What does it mean to be salt of the earth and light of the world? 13 “You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. 14 You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. 15 Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. 16 Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.
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And that God — who uses all things — will make use EVEN of my sins. Thus the reference to composting.
Truly...how can we love others as they are....until we love ourself as we are? And for me that has meant the slow slow work of seeing myself as the younger child, the older child....and - now and then - the parent.
God loves me in a prodigal way - giving love and grace on a lavish scale to me
There is an old song by Benny Hester “When God Ran” that helped me to embrace and celebrate God’s prodigal love for me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asU6FXnHWus
Knowing my own sin and God’s prodigal love for me I am growing slowly in tender compassion and mercy.
My growth in tender compassion and mercy feels embarrassing slow as I look back.
My sinner self is becoming ever slower to judge and faster to mercy.
In 2018, I served as the primary caregiver for my dad during the last four months of his life.
Caring for my dad was probably one of the most challenging experiences of my life.
We did not have a close relationship.
I was always hoping for a time when our relationship might become closer.
However, we ran out of time.
My inspiration was the song Reckless Love
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sc6SSHuZvQE
I knew God’s love for me as the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.
This song inspired to love my father with my best but limited imitation of God’s reckless love for me.
I am thankful to read your reflections and comments
I am a quite shy writer so I may feel too shy to comment
This blog is my first blog ever.
I have the same feeling as you - that I am growing in compassion and mercy and feeling resistant to judging. And I, too, frequently think, regretfully, that I am late to the game: how I wish I had started down this road earlier.
At the same time, often as soon as I think that, God says, "You're not late. You're not slow. There is no right time except now."
I am suddenly led to think about the parable of the laborers and how those who started late in the day got paid the same wage as those who started early in the day. It doesn't matter when we start. It only matters how it ends. Our payment? Knowing God and wanting to be in his presence in intimate father-child relationship with Him.
There I've gone again. Forgive me for my ramblings. I just started seeing and hearing things. Thank you for that gift to me.
Pam
Composting - Hah!
Latin: com- "with, together" + ponere "to place" (position). Placed together
Decaying - We are
Organic - real, living, unadulterated, worms and bugs and diseases and all
Matter - Stuff. Matters. We matter. It all matters
Used - nothing wasted, also not left on the shelf unused
Plant - What is being grown? Manufactured?
Fertilizer - to make fertile (to bear)
So all the decaying leaves (once useful for giving life and energy, now fallen and falling apart) and manure (what we don't need, the waste, excess, unnecessary, the junk) being mixed and left to break down. Remade into fertilizer. To bear...
God uses all things, even sins. Especially sins?
Interesting sandwich - "When God Ran", "we ran out of time", never-ending reckless love of God, chases us down, fights til we're found...not out of time
Me too. Thankful. Slowly growing, learning to love, being able to love more easily, as I'm being composted, letting the leaves and manure mix and ferment and break down. Getting used to/accepting the smell and the mixing.
There is no right time except now.
Continuation of the parable?
After going back in to the party for a while, the father goes back outside to the older brother as he clanks and bumps things around and puts things away. Works alongside, silently.
Slowly, less clanking and bumping. Anger leaking away. Against younger brother, father, self, God.
"Dad, you're missing the party."
"I know."
Less clanking and bumping.
Sigh. "Dad you'll miss the whole thing."
"It's okay. I'd rather be with you."
Nothing left to put away.
"I'm hungry. Let's go in."
"Okay."
Both go in.
Younger brother, "I'm sorry."
Older, "I know."
"Me too."
"I know."
Composting.