The Ugly Tree

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Several years have passed, and I mark out each day with a silent wish. I look across the road and I see something that doesn’t belong. A tree that is hideous; a tree beyond any kind of symmetry, a tree that is very ugly. It’s beyond any kind of redemption. It is bad, and needs to be cut down. It is an eyesore.

When I see it, I’m aggravated. It never, ever really belongs. I dream of sneaking past the road and chopping it down. I want it to fall. Why should it blight my eyes? Why should I allow it to obstruct my view of the wonderful mountains? It is all wrong. (I rejoice at every wind-storm.)

But sometimes, God will speak to me through the “Ugly Tree.” There is a moment when we just might see something beyond the normal. It stands, because He made it so. Could not the Father have made it His “visual aid” just for me?

  • In my own personal sin and twistedness, could I be the spiritual version of “the ugly tree?”
  • Could the cross of Jesus be “the ugly tree?” The place where He absorbed all our sin?

Both seem to be relevant to me.

As I type this I’m looking across the road. Maybe it should stay as it reminds me of who I am and how much the cross means to me. Perhaps it should stay.

ybic, Bryan

 

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A Warm Christmas Fire

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Merry Christmas from Bryan at Brokenbelievers.com!

(Sit and enjoy the fire. Have some ‘egg nog.’)

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The people who walk in darkness
    will see a great light.
For those who live in a land of deep darkness,
    a light will shine
.”

Isaiah 9:2

“Who can add to Christmas? The perfect motive is that God so loved the world. The perfect gift is that He gave His only Son. The only requirement is to believe in Him. The reward of faith is that you shall have everlasting life”.  –Corrie Ten Boom

“The Almighty appeared on earth as a helpless human baby, needing to be fed and changed and taught to talk like any other child. The more you think about it, the more staggering it gets. Nothing in fiction is so fantastic as this truth of the Incarnation.”   — J.I. Packer

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Questions I Have for Joseph

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Sometimes when I read the Word I get a bit frustrated. I wonder why things are left out, The omissions seem to be a breach of clarity and a cavalcade of missed opportunities.

For instance– I want to know more about Joseph. This man stood by Mary when she was pregnant with Jesus, when he was not the father. Sure, an angel intervened, but that still must’ve been a hard thing. Some of my questions:

What were you feeling when Mary told you she was with child? What did your family think? Were you frustrated with the dirty stable? Did you ever doubt the angel’s word? Did the kings and shepherds intrude on the evening? What did you do with their lavish gifts of gold and incense?

Did you have to discipline Jesus? Was He picked on by other boys His age? Did Jesus have many friends? Did Jesus ever cry, and over what? What happen when He hit His thumb with a hammer? Did He “beat” you when you arm wrestled?

When you prayed did you look up to see Him listening? Did you feel comfortable around Him when you worshipped? What was Jesus’ prayer life like? Did He faithfully attend the synagogue with you? 

The scriptures share little background information. All we really have is speculation and conjecture on what could of happened. We may only sit and wonder about these things.

Our curiosity is good, but only heaven will answer our questions. Perhaps for now it’s best we not know? The Gospel accounts are abbreviated but sufficient for believers today.

“Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

John 21:25

ybic, Bryan

 

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No Monkey

“What are these scars from?” she asked.

“They’re battle wounds.” I replied.

She looked at me a long time.

“Who were you battling?”

“Myself.” I replied.

My thinking this morning is how long does the battle have to go on? It seems far too long (and lately tedious). If my life had a sound-track, it probably be a very bland and dull roar, punctuated periodically by maniacal laughter. I hope yours is better than mine.

My battle with mental illness has scarred me for life. I can’t seem to put enough varnish on it to be presentable. I’m aware of all these things. And saddened that it has to be this way. My favorite author is Anne Lamott. She once made this observation, “You can get the monkey off your back, but the circus never leaves town.” Monkeys are one thing, the circus is another.

“We walk by faith, not by sight,” my Bible tells me so. Each new day has faith embossed in it. Hebrews 11 tells me that many have gone before me, but they had to journey by faith through pain and suffering. Knowing this, I sometimes feel like “jumping ship.”

I hope you don’t regard me as unduly self-absorbed. Astonishingly, my meds aremonkey1 finally working. Life isn’t caustic any more, just mildly abrasive. But I am still a bit unhappy about my attitude. I thought that these meds would make me incredibly normal, but instead I feel blah.

But blah is good. The terror of running amok through another manic phase scares me thoroughly. Anything is better than that. No monkey, but still a circus. But I’m fully known by the One who loves me the most. Jude talks about being “safe.” This is our responsibility.

“But you, dear friends, must build each other up in your most holy faith, pray in the power of the Holy Spirit, 21 and await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will bring you eternal life. In this way, you will keep yourselves safe in God’s love.”

Jude 20-21

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