Empty Your Hands

An inventory of bad choices should never be reframed or defended as rebellion. Many of us take ourselves far too seriously, seeing ourselves as heroes, legends, urban cowboys and street-walkers who have to face the weather of oppression by institutions/industries/the man, doing whatever is necessary just to be able to call our own shots and still make ends meet. Clinging to the notion that we need to portray ourselves as independent, leather-skinned, true romantics instead of just dropping our elitist costumes and admitting just how ridiculously helpless we really are on our own. Eventually we get so deep into the game that we can no longer tell the difference between love and everything less than love, because, we’ve wrapped ourselves so seemingly secure in our vices that we can no longer remember what it feels like to really be loved for who we are beneath it all.

Home is that sacred space — external or internal — where we don’t have to be afraid, where we are confident of hospitality and love. In our society we have not only many homeless people sleeping on the streets, in shelters, or in welfare hotels, but also vagabonds who are in flight, who never come home to themselves. They seek a safe place through alcohol or drugs, or security in success, competence, friends, pleasure, notoriety, knowledge, or even a little religion. They have become strangers to themselves, people who have an address, but, are never home, who never hear the voice of love or experience the freedom of God’s children. To those of us in flight, who are afraid to turn around lest we run into ourselves, Jesus says: “You have a home…I am your home…claim me as your home…you will find it to be the intimate place where I have found my home…it is right where you are…in your innermost being…in your heart.”

~Brennan Manning, Devotions For Ragamuffins, Pp.33

TODAY by Poor Old Lu

It is the sweetest thing to know that
To know it is right
And what a sight
To step ahead and see the Son, now…

Not a cloud in mind
Or waiting on time
I’ve emptied my hands
And now I can, I can receive

The most amazing things seem to follow
The darkest of nights
And what a sight
I am saved from the deepest of graves, now…

Not a cloud in mind
Or waiting on time
I’ve emptied my hands
And now I can, I can receive

Today
May be the most beautiful day
I don’t sing alone
And the angels say…

Today
May be the most wonderful day
I don’t sing alone
And the angels say…

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