broken hearted good
a broken heart hurts
yet it
forces frailty
demands dependence
heightens humility
subdues stubbornness
produces patience
welcomes wisdom
trains tenderness
good
Two Ones
John Mark is at it again. Reinventing the English language.
Markese, we call it.
His latest Markese phrases: happy noodle; two ones.
Happy noodle is a whole other post. Two ones today.
Two ones uses include...
John Mark, would you like a piece of candy?
Two ones, Daddy! Reaching open handed.
Let's go get Seth & tickle him, John Mark.
Yeah, tickle him two ones. Trotting toward Big Brother.
But the best is...
I love you, John Mark.
I love you two ones, Daddy. Hugging humbled Daddy.
Two ones.
Live Markese. Loving your Ones.
Again
Mary Elizabeth is a kindergartner now. It's still hard to believe as I watch her little pigtails bob while walking into school holding hands with a friend each morning. She loves it. She's thriving.
John Mark, however, has a new experience too: Lots of time alone with Mama & Daddy. As the third of three children, that time may have been limited before, but he's embraced it in his linebacker way. He loves it. He's thriving.
He came up—unsolicited—and put his arms around his Mama this week & said, "Ah luh yew vey-ree much, Mama."
"Thank you. I love you too," Melanie replied while giving him a hug.
He pulled away a bit, then pulled in tight patting her on the back & said, "Ah luh yew 'gehn."
I love you... again.
John Mark never stopped loving his Mama. He simply said it again.
How often do I need a love that never stopped?
How refreshing is it when that love is spoken... again?
How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!—1 John 3:1
Again. And again. And again.
Light a Fire
Poems. Lyrics. Books. They have origin stories.
I just learned the origin of my favorite hymn...
On the evening before Easter in 433AD on the Hill of Slane in County Meath, Ireland a former slave lit a fire. He lit a fire and sang a hymn. He defied a royal decree.
Lighting a fire any other day was, well, normal. Expected. Necessary. But this evening before Easter and the Spring Equinox was exceptional. High King Logaire of Tara had ordered that he alone was to light the first fire that night beginning the Druid spring festival. Lighting that fire before the King was equivalent to declaring war on the Druids & the rulers of Ireland.
The former slave was born Scottish. Captured by pirates at 14. Enslaved in Ireland. Escaped years later. Committed his life to Christ's service. Returned at 30 to lead the Irish people to the One who had captured his heart. Lit a fire and sang a hymn.
High King Logaire is said to have been so impressed with the former slave's arrogance that he let him continue his missionary work. By the end of his life, the former slave saw over 2000 churches started and more than 100,000 Irish people come to faith in Christ. The former slave changed Ireland forever.
The hymn he'd composed and sung, translated into English verse in 1905 by Eleanor H. Hull: Be Thou My Vision.
“Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light
Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one
Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art
High King of Heaven, my victory won
May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heav’n’s Sun
Heart of my own heart, whate’er befall
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all”
Saint Patrick, the former slave of an Irish person, became a slave to Christ for the Irish people. With a great vision set and a small fire lit, Saint Patrick changed history.
“Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible... I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share its blessings.”
How am I enslaved?
What is my vision?
What fire should I light?
Of the many versions of this classic hymn available, I love this one by Scottish artist, Steph MacLeod, and friends.
Please share a comment or keep the fire lit by choosing your favorite method to share this post.
Dat Be Cool
Our John Mark is talking. Like a crazy man. All the time. In his own language.
His current fav phrase is, "Dat be Cool."
We don't much say "That'll be cool." We don't often utter a plain ol' "cool." Don't know where the boy got it from, but got it he has.
"Dat be cool, Mama," as he joins his Mama at work in the kitchen even though she didn't ask & really would do better without his help.
"Dat be cool, Seffee," as he invades his brother's room becoming the ultimate destructive force in Seth's Star Wars universe.
"Dat be cool, Mehnee," as he removes a baby doll from his sister's arms to cuddle her more than Mary Elizabeth.
"Dat be cool, Dahdee," as he plunks himself into my lap to read a book even though I was already reading the paper.
A self-affirming mantra. Not mean or ugly, "you do it my way because I'm a stubborn toddler or else." But kind & enthusiastic, "even though I didn't ask to join you, watch out here I come because I want to & l love you."
It's more than assumption. It's as if he is certain of the outcome.
It's more than expectancy. It's as if he knows it will happen.
It's more than hope. It's as if he is confident it will be.
Not yet three year old or three foot tall John Mark has got the sort of faith the Lord Jesus welcomes.
Jesus said in John 14:13, "I will do whatever you ask in my name."
Paul writes in Ephesians 3:20 that Jesus, "is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine."
What do you need, friends?
Then pray. Jesus' will. And pray BIG.
Dat be cool.