Hope of Heaven...

Today was another of the 'between two worlds' days that has become so common. The worship at Lagniappe was incredible- we had a mandolin, guitar and a jimbay drum. John Henry has really come in to his own as a worship leader. I preached on the 'Just and Justifying' God. It was one of those moments where God spoke very clearly. Oddly enough, even on the heels of that, in this Sabbath afternoon I find myself longing for heaven- for all things to be made right. I guess that actually makes sense- there is only one place where the upside down things will be made right side up. Oh, the glorious thought- one day, some day- all things made right. I am becoming keenly aware of how little I actually believe the Gospel that I have been called to preach. I find it 'easy' to preach the truth, yet believing it is harder and harder. My heart longs for temporal reminders of Gospel truth- shadowy pictures here, but the true longings are for the shadows to disappear and the reality to come. Keep Lagniappe and me in your prayers, y'all are in mine.

The Closed Fist (a bit of Larroux poetry)

Firmly grasping nothing.
Holding hopes and dreams.
Like a python wrapped around a desire, the closed fist constricts a dream.
Demanding.
Deserving.
Determined.
And deceived.
It SHOULD be!
It MUST be!
It WILL be!
Firmly grasping nothing.
Like a gavel of judgment the closed fist pounds.
It echoes a heart's verdict.
I know best!
I know when!
I know how!
Firmly grasping nothing.
White knuckles.
Flushed skin.
Straining to hold.
This is something I SHOULD have, right?
This is something I MUST have, right?
This is something I WILL have, won't I?
Bruised and bloodied a lone finger surrenders.
Exhausted.
Panting.
Weary.
It surrenders.
The metamorphosis begins.
The closed fist becoming.
The closed fist opening.
A lone soldier followed by his men.
The closed fist transforming.
The open hand dawning!
Submitting.
Surrendering.
Becoming.
Like a flower opening it's eyes to the sunlight, the fingers open!
The hand blooms!
Unwilling, NOW willing.
Unwaivering, NOW free.
Unmoved, NOW inviting.
Oh, the cavernous space of the open hand!
There is room for so much more-
Blessings and yes's and dreams too big, now rest in an upturned palm!
Alive and free.
Alive and free!!
Alive and free!!!
Firmly grasping nothing.

-Jean F. Larroux, III