(an old favorite poem by Amy Carmichael, missionary to India ... enjoy.) The Shell Upon the sandy shore an empty shell, Beyond the shell infinity of sea; O Savior, I am like that empty shell, Thou art the Sea to me. A sweeping wave rides up the shore, and lo, Each dim recess the coiled shell within, Is searched, is filled, is filled to overflow, By water crystalline. Not to the shell is any glory then: All glory give we to the glorious sea. And not to me is any glory when Thou overflowest me. Sweep over me Thy shell, as low I lie; I yield me to the purpose of Thy will, Sweep up, O conquering waves, and purify, And with Thy fullness fill.
Showing posts from March, 2007
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Some time ago I ran across a rash of “how to manage your time” articles that set me to thinking furiously—not for the first time in recent years—about my own life and what I can and cannot do to make better use of my own time. For starters, I can’t seem to keep a schedule to save my life. Talk of MOTH (Managers of Their Homes) or other scheduling programs sends my blood pressure straight up. But, neither do I get much done without some sort of plan with which to approach the day. The best thing I’ve found is to make a rough sketch of our daily, weekly, monthly routine—preferably on paper—but then be flexible enough for the inevitable interruptions that, despite all my denials, are a part of my life. Last Wednesday, for instance. It was the first day of the week that I could stay home until at least midafternoon. I had lots of plans for cleaning, decluttering, etc.—only a portion of which gets done in the short segments that I get at home these days between piano lessons (4 children
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Randy Ingermanson . What else can I add to the list of this man’s incredible impact and accomplishments in the lives of other writers? I feel that anything I write would merely be on the level of, “Oh yeah! Me too!” First, Double Vision . I loved this book—the smooth progression in the action and twists, the subtle tie-in with Randy’s City of God series, the very different hero. I learned that although I wouldn’t test out as a full-blown Aspie (shorthand for someone with Asperger’s syndrome, a form of high-functioning autism), I’m not really a normal either … and in the process, I’ve learned how to recognize some of the markers in others, and to make mental adjustments accordingly, and not judge people so quickly without knowing all the facts. I’ve also come to resent how our culture so quickly slaps labels on people who are “different,” without stopping to consider how their internal wiring might seem a handicap on one hand, but enables some amazing giftings on the other. (Think,