I am in Bangor now.
We spent a weekend with the Gillinghams teaching on Mercy and Justice.
In order to be activated towards Justice, we must first allow our hearts to be moved towards mercy.
"Except I am moved with Compassion" was a phrase echoed over and over this weekend, along with Ezekiel 36:26 "I will give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh"

On Sunday Elaine preached on being a Covenant Community, and broke out the Soldier's Covenant...when was the last time you looked at yours? (Mine's tucked into a suitcase in London, so I'm not really one to speak, but seriously, there's some GOOD GOOD stuff in there...maybe I tucked it away because I was worried about not living up to the challenge, but what's that all about, anyway? I signed it at one time, fully committed to living it out, so where did this fear creep in? Fear should have NO PLACE in the heart of one bought by the blood of the Lamb. Time for God's soldiers to fight back and get mobilized once again.) Time to renew covenant. Let's tear Hell's throne to pieces and win the world for Jesus! Storm Heaven with continuous prayers!

"Restore unto me the joy of my salvation and renew a RIGHT spirit within me."

I cry sometimes.

I got a phone call from my dad yesterday. He was concerned because of the three days I spent with him, about 6hours were spent weeping somewhat uncontrollably. You see, I tend to cry a lot. Today, I cried while worshipping in my livingroom. I don't usually cry when people expect me to cry. For some reason I can take the death of a loved one or dear friend and not a tear comes....until later on, when I am alone, or a certain lyric of a certain song brings the memory of that person vividly to my being. Then I cry.
Other times, it would seem that tears come pretty randomly. My friends and comrades in the War College will remember many times where I burst into tears in the middle of recreate, or knee drill, or simply walking down the street. My mom could tell you of times when I would shut myself up in my room and cry for an hour or so. I can remember many times in Army meetings, when I would be weeping through the entire service, but would be glued to my seat, smearing the tears and the snot into my sleeve, or letting them drop to the floor so that no one would know I was crying. Then I would get up, rush to the bathroom, splash water on my face, and come out telling everyone how fine I was, and go home for lunch.
I don't know where the idea came into my head that it was unacceptable to cry in church, or with friends. When did we decide it was better to keep our hurt feelings knotted up inside of us, only to let them loose on some punching bag, or by driving fast, or drowning them in alchohol or drugs than to cry with someone and talk it out. Have we become such an untrustworthy people that we cannot trust our friends with our tears?
Maybe there is something to be learned from the Jews with their wailing wall, or from children who can show their emotions so easily and unashamedly. As soon as they start crying for whatever reason are swept into the arms of someone who loves them and are comforted. Why are we so slow to comfort those who are weeping and crying out as adults? Is it that their pain might possibly dredge up some painful memories in ourselves that we might have to share with them? Or when we are the ones crying, why do we skulk off into the shadows as if feeling real emotion were s

So, friends and avid readers, I have left you high and dry once again. My apologies. I'm still home, but will be moving to Bangor on the 29th, just in time for some fall fooseball and 'Merican turkeys. This week I was able to spend nearly four full days with my niece and nephew, which was awesome. They're great.
I'm learning the differences (finally) between different ages/stages of development in young people. My nephew, Owen, is a homebody. He likes his routine, and he likes his home, and he doesn't like to change things around very much.
My niece, Taylor, is a bit more easy going and flexible when it comes to changing things up a bit, especially if it involves something with Gramma, or food, or fun. THen I remember my days at the Youth Hostel, and think about how it was a sort of parentless zone, but safe still.
They way I figure it (or at least the way I figured it while watching the kids playing in the playground while hoards of parents watched on like guardians) is that kids like to stay in a safe place, while teens are usually looking for a cool place to hang out and be seen as an individual. It all comes back to love, though. If a person is loved in a pure way, they always feel secure no matter what they're facing. Like the song, "Leaning, Leaning, safe and secure from all alarms....Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" Good thing when you've got Jesus you know you can't go very far, because He's always with you, loving you and holding you! Grace.