And He who was seated on the throne said, "Behold...

I am making all things new."


The Story of Christmas - An Animation from Grace in Cranberry on Vimeo.


Merry Christmas all. Remember the lost, poor, and broken this joyous day. Remember that your beating heart means that you are presently functioning as a working member of God's plan of redemption. Remember that Christ was born, grew into a man, and then soaked up what was meant for us, because He loved us. May the joy of our God overtake you, bewitch you, and overflow from you this Christmas season.

Cheers!

Sometimes I wonder if we're so numb as a society that when we do have those precious few moments of clarity and sobriety it's so uncomfortably jarring that the resulting shock sends us back into numbness.

Boy, I feel funny tonight. Someday I hope that I will actually have some idea of what I wish to do with my life. Of course, my ultimate goal is to glorify God. Of course, the how is by worshiping Him by abiding in Him. Of course I abide in Him through daily supplication and application of His Word (and by His grace above all). Of course this is the greatest joy in my life. But I still suffer from anxiety, anxiety I think for what I will actually do after I graduate. Another picture of how I still am weak and need His strength to carry on.

Spoiled

Nor, I think, would many of us ever naturally say that in the light of the knowledge of God which we have come to enjoy, past disappointments and present heartbreaks, as the world counts heartbreaks, don't matter. For the plain fact of the matter is that to. Ost of us they do matter. We live with them as our "crosses" (so we call them). Constantly we find ourselves slipping into bitterness and apathy and gloom as we reflect on them, which we frequently do. The attitude we show to the world is a sort of dried-up stoicism, miles removed from the "joy unspeakable and full of glory" which Peter took for granted that his readers were displaying (1 Peter 1:8 KJV). "Poor souls," our friends say of us," how they've suffered." And that is just what we feel about ourselves!

--J. I. Packer, Knowing God

I've been convicted of this in the past few months. How easily my spoiled windy little mind seeks for sympathy when there is really no need for it, except that my selfish little self wants to feel loved (and by loved I really mean known). It's not wrong to want to feel loved; we were made to be loved. But this feeling of, "Oh let me show you a heavy cross," that is sin. For one, I've never starved, I've never been unwanted, I've never been enslaved, I've never found myself bereft of my "inalienable rights" (the question of their inalienableness is a question matter for another time). In relation to the world, I have no room to complain. But even beyond that the sufferings of this present time are not even worth comparing to the future glory that is to come. And yet, my ego still has an itch to grow beyond its recommended size. My dad used to warn me about becoming a PLOM when I was younger, a poor little ol' me. And boy was (is) he right. Really, what do I have to complain about? In reality, absolutely nothing.

Breathe

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