Saturday, August 24, 2024

Pandemic Pantoum| How Did We Survive?



Pandemic Pantoum| How Did We Survive?

by Chanda Singleton Griesë

The way forward is the way back
Car lines snaking around the park
To bring life and light to death and black
Waiting for their turn to toe the mark 

Car lines snaking around the park
Searching for ways to stop the spread
Waiting for their turn to toe the mark 
To not be counted among the dead 

Searching for ways to stop the spread
We all took sides, our family and friends
To not be counted among the dead 
Whatever precautions, it all depends

We all took sides, our family and friends
On differing points, we didn’t meet
Whatever precautions, it all depends
To reconcile was no small feat

On differing points, we didn’t meet
Some of our dearest friends were lost
To reconcile was no small feat
And we are still counting the cost

Some of our dearest friends were lost
After restrictions were lifted
And we’re still counting the cost
Our community had shifted...
read more here

Tuesday, August 20, 2024

Who is God?| How His Identity Shapes Mine

My heart goes out to teens who feel lonely and overwhelmingly confused, not knowing how to find their place in this world. At age 13, I only cared about school—making good grades, trying to make cool friends, and avoiding being bullied. Apparently, teens nowadays struggle with the same things but have exponentially more mental health issues. I wonder if it has something to do with our culture’s complete removal of the guardrails for identity (Sy Rogers speaks to this here and here). When I was in middle school, everyone was trying to figure out their identity by finding a sport, or a club, or a friend group they wanted to join. I wasn’t sporty, didn’t have transportation for afterschool clubs, and had trouble making friends. I felt pretty lost and alone.

In middle school, in my utter loneliness, one of my few friends shared with me something I’d never heard before—the gospel. She said that I needed to believe in Jesus to be saved. Her statement left me bewildered and confused. I did not have even the faintest clue what she was talking about.

I owned a Bible, but didn’t know how to read it. My grandmother at times, brought me to church with her, but I didn’t understand why Jesus was so special. I viewed the picture on the church wall of Jesus with a shepherd’s staff in one hand and a lamb on his shoulders. Why did people worship this Shepherd God? Why did they pray to Him?

On the night that my friend shared the gospel with me, the fear of God hit me. I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid of God’s immensity, his power, his holiness. Somehow I knew that if we missed up even once, we sinned and deserved to be punished for our sins. I didn’t want to be punished by a holy and powerful God. But at the same time, Jesus was the Shepherd God. He was gentle and welcomed children. How could Jesus, who is God, love me if I had sinned?

Jesus was gentle and welcoming but also holy and powerful. He never sinned. He calmed a storm with just his command. He healed people. He brought the dead to life. I didn’t know if Jesus would accept me, but if he did, I wanted to identify myself as a Christian. I found Bethany Baptist Church in the yellow pages who sent someone to pick up unchurched kids and teens in a little bus and brought them to Sunday School.

Every Sunday, I attended church, but the fear of God kept me from ever praying. I thought he would strike me dead for my sins if I tried to enter his presence in prayer. I was granted a scholarship to go to the church summer camp and the gospel was explained more clearly to me during the time of teaching. Jesus was the Lamb of God. He was the perfect sacrifice for the world’s sins. When he died on the cross, he died to pay for our sins. His resurrection proves that he was God and he was victorious. All I needed to do was trust in him.

My fears were alleviated. There was a way for me to be saved. Trust in Jesus. The last day of camp, I decided to pray for the first time in my life. I pictured the Shepherd God, Jesus, when he died on the cross for all the bad things that I had ever done or ever will do. He was my sacrifice and He lives forevermore. I identified with His death and resurrection for the payment of my sins and my new life in Him (2 Corinthians 5:21).

I identified as a Christian.

My loneliness was replaced with the felt presence of the ever-watchful Shepherd God who promises that He will never leave me nor forsake me (Hebrews 13:5).

My journey of knowing God and following Him has consisted of learning to study the Bible with with older, wiser brothers and sisters in Christ who have discipled me. Attending church in a large assembly has also been important. It is a picture of how life will be in eternity with the unity in diversity of worshipping Jesus.

Over the years, I’ve learned that Jesus is indeed the Shepherd God, but He has so many more names. He is God the Son. For our God is a triune God—God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Jesus brings us to the Father and we have received adoption through Him. The Holy Spirit awakened us to faith in God, dwells in our heart, and helps us to live as Christians (Ephesians 1:3-14).

Knowing the names of God helps me to know and understand who He is. Knowing His names helps me to envision His invisible attributes, to know what I can ask for in prayer, and to conceive how deserving Christ Jesus is of all my worship and devotion. He is God.

Last week, I shared 31 names that we’ve been given as followers of Christ. Today, I will share with you, dear readers, 31 Names of God in the Old Testament Hebrew and the New Testament Greek that I also meditate on and pray through each day of each month. I know that I am never alone and that a holy and powerful God has had mercy on me and called me His own.

Feel free to copy and print your own and meditate and contemplate the wonderful names of God.



Friday, August 9, 2024

A Fine Magpie| Who Names What She Sees #naturepoetry

 


A Fine Magpie
by Chanda Singleton Griesë Some things are gray, others are pied How comforting to know there is such a thing as black-and-white—an objective "notion" that doesn’t change like shifting shadows in culture wars Art is good if it is beautiful, ordered, sublime Good is true if it does what is right all the time Truth is beautiful, for on its bars hangs the universe not like the random throw of Yahtzee dice nor the mimicry of the shiny magpie whose pert words, cocks her head side-wise while she parrots all she hears without the knowledge that holds water Now, there’s a fine kind of magpie who knows enough to name exactly what she sees