tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22435968384824306612024-02-07T18:03:17.921-09:00Calling, "Shotgun!"We only have one life on this planet but whoever said we only have one chance? Christ is the God of the second chance and more if we need it. He said we can call things that are not as though they were. Let's start calling to all the goodness we can have in His name! Where ever He is leading I am calling, "SHOTGUN!"Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.comBlogger315125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-37273184803592528962015-09-20T10:52:00.000-08:002015-09-20T10:53:41.062-08:00Fall ApproachingApproaching the Fall of a very busy year, tired but loved. Looking over some past things and looking forward to others. Aware of the steadfast and unchangeable affection the Father has for His own.<br />
<br />
Praying for a rhythm that lets me paint more and post more. It has been a year of illness and moves and poetry and days that were too long or not long enough. "Life."<br />
<br />
In the mean while the best kind of left overs I revisited today:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://iamcallingshotgun.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-will-burst-his-heart-with-my-loving.html">http://iamcallingshotgun.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-will-burst-his-heart-with-my-loving.html</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-88432208621094984332015-01-22T13:59:00.003-09:002015-01-22T14:02:53.254-09:00A God-love repost that gets me every time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCr1-H0c14HlKIyFx91xdUS3ypdJkqsrVtEZBHsz-nSPxVeLtpVOHlwST-kP3uWqSaMg2zBFfK5QWmrQF5EqxA7Ydi5REV4pzDQ1UCiMl9MpqDK02AQoUna183gZBQ5U3pHSm_QlLDE44/s1600/shells.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCr1-H0c14HlKIyFx91xdUS3ypdJkqsrVtEZBHsz-nSPxVeLtpVOHlwST-kP3uWqSaMg2zBFfK5QWmrQF5EqxA7Ydi5REV4pzDQ1UCiMl9MpqDK02AQoUna183gZBQ5U3pHSm_QlLDE44/s1600/shells.png" height="350" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://iamcallingshotgun.blogspot.com/2011/11/his-sea-bed-is-love-without-end.html">http://iamcallingshotgun.blogspot.com/2011/11/his-sea-bed-is-love-without-end.html</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-9134390155399043352015-01-18T10:07:00.000-09:002015-01-18T10:28:49.765-09:00NOW<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
"God, why don't you do something <i>n-o-w</i>?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGG-o_LIAa31_3MpT9Meuxm3WfgCScqCdK56yCv84Qt4bScJf0z34Y5b5ENkGyLC6HfEcHMx_QVDusPYixPnZF06uEttQvRU-bHJvFh-tufg3hEnkP6N2hZ5uBZiz91moPhkaeDeRf889/s1600/women.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoGG-o_LIAa31_3MpT9Meuxm3WfgCScqCdK56yCv84Qt4bScJf0z34Y5b5ENkGyLC6HfEcHMx_QVDusPYixPnZF06uEttQvRU-bHJvFh-tufg3hEnkP6N2hZ5uBZiz91moPhkaeDeRf889/s1600/women.jpg" height="167" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Maybe because <i>we</i> are the Holy-<i>Now</i> the world is waiting for...<br />
<br />
Nourished
(by relationship to Christ)<br />
<br />
Obedient (by purposeful commitment to live
out God's preferences)<br />
<br />
Women (creative by design).<br />
<br />
-kl</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-31807385597198268072014-09-23T00:15:00.003-08:002014-09-23T00:15:20.121-08:00You Do ItSilver and gold have I none, but such as I have... Acts 3<br />
<br />
I
remember finding it odd when the Lord told the disciples to give the
multitude something to eat. They had not a sack lunch of their own yet
he said, "You do it. You give them something to eat."<br />
<br />
Now here
are Peter and John on the way to church and they plunge right in among
the beggars whose hands are out expecting something. Those beggars knew
exactly what they wanted. Peter and John knew their own pockets were
empt<span class="text_exposed_show">y. Did they choose a less conspicuous route? We know the answer. They plunged in.</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span>
<div class="text_exposed_show">
In speaking of this story, Will Willimon observes that, "The path
toward significant prayer is a way that goes straight through, not
around, human misery."<br />
<br />
I would be false to say that I do not walk
into the Mission sometimes and look at a situation that I feel is
beyond my personal resources. Experience has taught me not to take the
less demanding route. Christ has taught me what I have in His Name.<br />
<br />
Time and again I have seen Heaven fasten its eyes on someone broken and
stand them on their feet when I or one of our Chapel workers head right
into the middle of the problem. "You do it."<br />
<br />
Christ has given us
His mighty Name. Fold that into love and obedience and you have, "Such
as I have..." and the lame walk. It has to be God for we do not have it
in us otherwise. The lame man wanted a coin. He got his life back
instead.<br />
<br />
As you pray, remember us. We need obedience and vision so that the broken may rise and re-enter life on level ground.<br />
<br />
May the Holy Spirit reveal to all of us the wonderful possibilities of what we possess for the Kingdom.<br />
<br />
In His service,<br />
Rev. John T. LaMantia<br />
<br />
(September Director's Letter)</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-76969288004133489882014-08-15T23:48:00.000-08:002014-11-04T16:04:40.452-09:00Benefactor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8MgCBYIn9Dy0w19jLMX4XJPelkwE5pcnoYXalbC28Ba3IDBMxc7I7aUwLD1Ic8DtmeIiFzMy8zXELow8NhAmZYwbqBxIXi5ABRNfMRjtIEEoIufDeNsV6TMLX18jEnWHfvnDlYhtMv8O7/s1600/Kat+LaMantia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8MgCBYIn9Dy0w19jLMX4XJPelkwE5pcnoYXalbC28Ba3IDBMxc7I7aUwLD1Ic8DtmeIiFzMy8zXELow8NhAmZYwbqBxIXi5ABRNfMRjtIEEoIufDeNsV6TMLX18jEnWHfvnDlYhtMv8O7/s1600/Kat+LaMantia.JPG" height="320" width="310" /></a></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9315" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9315" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
Your words drop into my days</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9314" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
like coins in a purse.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9313" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
I am rich. I am full of</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9312" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
astonishing abundance.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9311" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9310" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
Let the mice come with</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9309" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
their nibbling teeth.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9320" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
I am tethered to the storehouse</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9308" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
of a thousand sunrises;</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9307" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9306" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
to the One who spoke</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9305" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
silver into seams, <br />
coaxed gold into mountain streams,</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9300" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
who bled into rubies and</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9321" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
set the sapphires with stars.</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9322" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9323" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
Benefactor</div>
<div id="yui_3_16_0_1_1411457378346_9324" style="font-family: garamond, "new york", times, serif; font-size: 18.66px; text-align: center;">
-by Kat</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-24753174078601609822014-07-05T16:32:00.001-08:002014-07-05T16:36:04.448-08:00Dragonfly Rain<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_53b895cc950138890619979">
I saw a dragonfly in the rain<br />
stinging and relentless it came down<br />
He was so still I thought he'd drowned<br />
<br />
But when the sun began to shine<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> I saw with joy that he was fine<br /> and had in no way come to harm<br /> <br /> I saw a dragonfly fly again<br /> A storm that might so easily oppress<br /> had but made him iridesce<br /> <br /> Lord, may the dragonfly's flight be mine!<br /> <br /> Dragonfly Rain</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">-by Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK91lZMChVpvamPSVgF_xW1IAQCHNL_4YoKNi7vABofXel59nVcefCZJUw_DulGLmQbmH7LCNvgL0C5b_V1XEnL2hF5Xct8AbgVTGfgZRdWdyShInVwfvrvp71ybOCmVVGeoeGnmpCQRd/s1600/sparkle-dragonfly-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK91lZMChVpvamPSVgF_xW1IAQCHNL_4YoKNi7vABofXel59nVcefCZJUw_DulGLmQbmH7LCNvgL0C5b_V1XEnL2hF5Xct8AbgVTGfgZRdWdyShInVwfvrvp71ybOCmVVGeoeGnmpCQRd/s1600/sparkle-dragonfly-.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
</div>
<span class="text Ps-3-2" id="en-GW-13957">Many are saying about me,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1">"<span class="text Ps-3-2">Even with God <span class="trans-change">on his side</span>,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-2"><span class="indent-2-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-3-2">he won’t be victorious.” </span></span> <br />
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-3-3" id="en-GW-13958">But you, O <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, are a shield that surrounds me.</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-3-3">You are my glory.</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-3-3">You hold my head high.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-3-4" id="en-GW-13959">I call aloud to the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-3-4">and he answers me from his holy mountain. <span class="selah">Selah</span></span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-3-5" id="en-GW-13960">I lie down and sleep.</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-3-5">I wake up again because the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> continues to support me.</span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-3-5">-Psalm 3 (The Voice) </span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-30774058594681622822014-06-30T00:47:00.000-08:002014-06-30T00:47:04.079-08:00In Community<span class="text 1Cor-13-13" id="en-KJV-28679">And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity. 1 Corinthians 13:13 KJV</span><br />
<span class="text 1Cor-13-13" id="en-KJV-28679"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKuycaaepWXQckbFx_4PxSDAydUuAo8kLiY2_h47Q3rpkKOuKx43VCvlK1veOHu2QzftysOkKUretxsGjgzkX4nI8epB98LtgHlWkBPAmC9CheBhq6SPKF1szzBb5EphUtCMVYZWZ6re4D/s1600/bread+heart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKuycaaepWXQckbFx_4PxSDAydUuAo8kLiY2_h47Q3rpkKOuKx43VCvlK1veOHu2QzftysOkKUretxsGjgzkX4nI8epB98LtgHlWkBPAmC9CheBhq6SPKF1szzBb5EphUtCMVYZWZ6re4D/s1600/bread+heart.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"></span></span><br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">I
find that whatever ministry I practice must be done in the larger
context of community if it is to have any authenticity at all; if it is
to have any lasting value to the person ministered to and also if it is
to be of benefit to me.<br /> <br /> I do not give a sandwich away without
giving my heart along with it. If all I give you is a pair of socks your
feet will be dry but your soul will remain a desert-<span class="text_exposed_show"> and so will mine. <br /> <br />
Jesus was more about connections than He was about fish and bread. We
belong to one another. That is the only real basis for charity if
charity is to become a bloom not a blight on the human landscape.<br /> <br /> May our hearts fill our hands.<br /> <br /> Bless you as you step into the week ahead.<br /> <br /> John LaMantia</span></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-23302482216842785162014-06-29T12:19:00.001-08:002014-06-29T12:36:32.638-08:00Imperfect PrayersWhen imperfect people pray God listens. We don't have to memorize
rituals and perform them flawlessly. We just open our heaped up,
conflicted, imperfect hearts and lean into Him the way my son used to
lean his weight against me when he was small and church had run long.<br />
<br />
Our praise of Him may be like those pictures that adorn the
refrigerator where Daddy is drawn with a big circle for a head, a
missing body and the wrong number of fingers but someone so loved them
as to put t<span class="text_exposed_show">hem on display.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
We are precious and loved and therefore welcomed by every gesture, by
every word in which our open-hearted God has revealed Himself.<br />
<br />
Approach Him today. You can't fail to get it right. Christ has already done that for you. Just lean in.<br />
<br />
-John LaMantia<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div>
<div class="text_exposed_show">
You hear our prayers whether<br />
they are full of thanksgiving<br />
or full of complaints.<br />
Your mercy is unending.<br />
Even in your discipline<br />
you restrain yourself<br />
in ways we cannot know.<br />
May our mumbled words of gratitude<br />
and our fleeting praises<br />
find crevices where they can grow<br />
within your presence,<br />
Lord of light and morning.<br />
Amen.<br />
<br />
Prayer from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals (Claiborne/Wilson-Hartgrove).</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-18589481800450190742014-06-15T12:50:00.000-08:002014-06-29T12:57:49.504-08:00The Father's DayQuite a few years ago I preached the Fathers' Day sermon up at First
Assembly in Anchorage. John David brought a handful of friends to the
service and Kathy and I took all of them to lunch after.<br />
<br />
One of
those guys who came that day died later in an accident. One went to jail
but from jail sent his brother, who was in the military and was being
stationed in Anchorage, to find us when he got here. That brother and
his wife took the walk to the altar to give their lives to Chris<span class="text_exposed_show">t when Rich Smith made the invitation at South Anchorage Assembly.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
The following year on Thanksgiving we got a call from the one who had
been jailed that he had given his heart to Christ in a jail service and
shortly after that the real culprit was found and JD's friend was
released. He thanked us for our prayers and asked for our blessing on
the new business he was starting and on his upcoming marriage. He said
he knew God had been calling him that Father's Day and continued to call
until he answered by putting him in a place where he could not refuse.<br />
<br />
We can not always see the outcome of our ministry or our generosity but
God inspires it and uses it in pursuit of His children. Many of the men
and women I deal with in my mission work and jail work have deep father
wounds that need to be healed. Many have never known the safe embrace
of a loving parent if they knew their parents at all. We have to tell of
the wonderful love of God and model that same love for them even as a
father would.<br />
<br />
To all my father friends and co-workers who stand
in the pulpits and go to the jails, who serve as His hands among the
wheat anywhere it is ready for harvest, Happy Blessed Fathers' Day, you
honor Our Father in the best kind of way by being just like Him.<br />
<br />
Today I will stand in the Father's place and love His sons and daughters
at the jail and at the Mission. I thank all of you whose prayers and
support allow me to do so.<br />
<br />
John LaMantia<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryGWzAysvl9iEGsWdGdWw6j2Dyn_Q1ojDx0j2FJJoiRlSNDlsDi5Je3LqENrYI4yYWS0lbYi5SSpIYvELlWCVIFvNThi7Lv8R6dwx9m3jsocf9uJzSicltuf5lOnKBhK0wZcLwxmpEc-S/s1600/the+kiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryGWzAysvl9iEGsWdGdWw6j2Dyn_Q1ojDx0j2FJJoiRlSNDlsDi5Je3LqENrYI4yYWS0lbYi5SSpIYvELlWCVIFvNThi7Lv8R6dwx9m3jsocf9uJzSicltuf5lOnKBhK0wZcLwxmpEc-S/s1600/the+kiss.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
The sound of a kiss<br />
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_53b07d12ecdcb1f63755795">
is not so loud<br />
as that of a cannon,<br />
but its echo<br />
lasts a great deal longer.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> <br /> Wisdom from Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /> <br />
Remembering this Fathers' Day that <i>"Every good gift and every perfect
gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom
is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." James 1:17</i></span></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-52982376749464544122014-06-07T13:04:00.000-08:002014-06-29T13:04:53.926-08:00Dreaming Pentecost<i>And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one
accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a
rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were
sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues as of fire, and it
sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost and
began to speak in other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. Acts
2:1 KJV</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP17VzLUzqLCL0sSnTPE82jTsXjB22639M-kGNK3bs8rWrWU21trDGLM8y_lZ9TbHi2dtO-tCNwjf1VRnWK1xtEL3J4XDdJgib-VE0SxEafR4urC63Zl1M-Ywh5ISmUpXWOFqQLnU_EUrp/s1600/Pentecost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP17VzLUzqLCL0sSnTPE82jTsXjB22639M-kGNK3bs8rWrWU21trDGLM8y_lZ9TbHi2dtO-tCNwjf1VRnWK1xtEL3J4XDdJgib-VE0SxEafR4urC63Zl1M-Ywh5ISmUpXWOFqQLnU_EUrp/s1600/Pentecost.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Thus began the amazing partnership between the G<span class="text_exposed_show">odhead
and the newly birthed Church under the direction and inspiration of the
Holy Spirit, through the grace and intercession of Christ and by the
will of the Father. A time of vision, a time of dreams, a time of adding to the Kingdom daily.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
Our lives and ministry are on that continuum and we have every right to
expect the Spirit of God to lead and inspire us even as He did in those
first natal hours of the church of Acts. He is still the vision caster,
the dream giver that the Kingdom may continue to come on our watch.<br />
<br />
Listen to what Matthew L. Skinner, a professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary has to say about the importance of this day:<br />
<br />
<i>"Sunday's Pentecost observances are more than a celebration of the
past. They are not merely an end to Easter or a chance to launch summer
programming. They are not opportunities for stoking nostalgia about the
church's supposed glory days. </i><br />
<br />
<i> Pentecost is an invitation to
dream. For when a community of faith quits dreaming dreams, it has
little to offer either its members or the wider world.</i><br />
<br />
<i> Like any
good dream, these dreams involve adopting a new perspective on what's
possible, rousing our creativity to free us from conventional
expectations. They help us see that maybe what we thought was outlandish
actually lies within reach. Maybe I can find freedom from what binds
me. Maybe there can be justice. Maybe I can make a difference..." </i><br />
<br />
I have just returned from spending a week in the presence of my fellow
Mission laborers from around the country and sharing their dreams and
visions for inspired ways to address the social ills that beset us. Many
have dreams it will take entire communities of faith in partnership
with a miracle working God to pull off. Many have small dreams but they
dream in technicolor and the fruit of those dreams realized will change
the emotional landscape of cities.<br />
<br />
We are a church birthed by
fire and the scripture assures us that the darker our surroundings the
brighter that light becomes- so I am dreaming and letting the Holy
Spirit be inspiration for me. Christ has all the answers and some of
them may be as unexpected in 2014 as they were in Acts.<br />
<br />
May His fire fall fresh upon us. May we welcome it.<br />
<br />
Blessing to you all,<br />
<br />
JohnLaMantia</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-66370026331065951922014-05-30T13:13:00.000-08:002014-08-03T20:22:05.406-08:00For the Looking<i>"We are surounded by everyday epiphanies. To get in the habit of encountering them, look each day for two things:</i><br />
<br />
<i> Something that surprises you<br /> Something that inspires you</i><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<i>
Many of us blunder through our lives as though we were asleep. Just
being deliberately focused on seeing makes you more alert, more excited,
more optimistic. You look, listen, and expect a life-giving surprise.
Daily lives are transformed into expectation of meaningful sights. You
may see things you have never noticed before."</i><br />
<br />
<i> - Judy Gattis Smith, Fear Not</i><br />
<br />
When Kathy and I go for a walk we are quite a pair. She looks down and I
look up. She loves all the tiny plants, the flowers the size of a drop of
water, the ground cover with its hairlike roots. I am searching the
clouds for elephants. Both of us are always surprised with our
discoveries.<br />
<br />
I think the point is to just be looking with a sense
of anticipation. To enter the walk or the day with hopeful curiosity
and to keep your eyes open.<br />
<br />
Grace and delight make many entrances
in our days and our nights. God is leaving signs of His Presence for us
to discover in nature and in one another. In light or darkness, in all
the time zones, in every language, high or low, in the clouds or at our
feet...GOD!<br />
<br />
May you find Him for the looking.<br />
<br />
Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;<br />
Naught be all else to me, save that thou art;<br />
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,<br />
Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.<br />
<br />
God Bless,<br />
John LaMantia</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-16649956122701218492014-05-19T00:00:00.000-08:002014-07-05T16:39:05.215-08:00But When The Right Time Came<span class="userContent">Lacy wings overcome by water<br /> Become heavy as stone<br /> An afternoon drink turns to death<br /> Four perfect wings struggle to rise<br /> Need has killed them<br /> Exhaustion slows their effort<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> Iridescent helpless beauty<br /> <br /> An insignificant breeze<br /> Just a puff really<br /> A nutsedge bows a tall green stem<br /> Across the birdbath<br /> Heaven has come to hell<br /> Grace has built a floor<br /> Over oblivion<br /> <br /> The Nutsedge<br /> <br /> -by Kat<br /> <br />
<i>But when the right time came, the time God decided on, he sent his Son,
born of a woman, born as a Jew, to buy freedom for us who were slaves
to the law so that he could adopt us as his very own children. And
because we are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our
hearts, so now we can rightly speak of God as our dear Father. Now we
are no longer slaves but God’s own sons and daughters. And since we are
his sons and daughters, everything he has belongs to us, for that is the
way God planned. Galatians 4:4-7 </i></span></span><br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVq5mfB-xcCLgPoylal8mi6Y2HYi-I-Im1p0Ix0IH8j-3pug_QcBciYNXhi3AWPq2ri_NMnOcfNis7GU5cIg3-bU6qQIF_SOlvCHXt2wUoZGrcbqwZC-7cu6gBNGcM09h2IqtIHJfV9tu/s1600/Underwater+Dragonfly+by+Kat+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVq5mfB-xcCLgPoylal8mi6Y2HYi-I-Im1p0Ix0IH8j-3pug_QcBciYNXhi3AWPq2ri_NMnOcfNis7GU5cIg3-bU6qQIF_SOlvCHXt2wUoZGrcbqwZC-7cu6gBNGcM09h2IqtIHJfV9tu/s1600/Underwater+Dragonfly+by+Kat+1.jpg" height="320" width="232" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">(I saw a lovely dragonfly
dying in the water of our birdbath and then a long stemmed weedy blade of grass
bent in a breeze and saved it before I could. -kl)</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Underwater Dragonfly, watercolor and ink </span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-74191801689632618842014-05-16T12:34:00.000-08:002014-06-29T12:44:55.184-08:00My Heart is a White Flag<i><span class="text Prov-23-26" id="en-GW-17068">My dear one,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-23-26">give me your heart.</span></span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-23-26">Let your eyes find happiness in my ways. Proverbs 23:26</span></span></i><br />
<br />
I work with a population that has many times given up. Giving up is
not in the plan of God. Surrender, however, now that brings us home.<br />
<br />
Few of us are willing participants. We seldom seem to have the
requisite white flag when one is called for. Surrender often feels like
dying and so we shun the experience.<br />
<br />
Surrender lets us change
sides, first as captives (but captives of love) and then as friends.
Surrender empties out the bowl and waits on the Lord of the Feast. Not
for w<span class="text_exposed_show">hat He brings but for Himself.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
Long ago Our Father's love made provision to "rest" in our lives, to be
pleased to be there. We are in the season of His pleasure if our days
are being emptied of own wisdom, our own efforts.<br />
<br />
It seems such a
contradiction that hungry men and women come to the Mission to be
filled and our ambition is to see them empty. It is not. The things of
God cannot fill what has not been offered, what is too full of things
not of God.<br />
<br />
It is important for us to be the example of
God-filled men and women to those we serve. To be transparent,
authentic, genuine. We have to be the change we want to see in others.
Surrender gets us there.<br />
We can't be gnat sifters or camel
swallowers either. It must be Christ radiantly loving the world from our
hearts enamored of Him. Surrender.<br />
<br />
God's economy is so perfect. The swap so momentous. The transformation breathtaking. The method so simple. Surrender.<br />
<br />
Surrendered or not we cannot make Him love us more but surrendered His
love is perfected through the life of Christ in us. That love is the
medicine the world needs. When we discover the <b><i>holy-empty</i></b> which leads to
the magnanimous God-life available to us it is life changing and not
just our life that changes.<br />
<br />
Oswald Chambers says it beautifully, "Genuine total surrender is a personal sovereign preference for Jesus Christ Himself."<br />
<br />
<b>My heart is a white flag.</b><br />
<br />
-John LaMantia</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-64861801530137954752014-04-18T04:00:00.000-08:002014-06-29T12:44:39.158-08:00The Kingdom Key<i>Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one
body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Colossians 3:15</i><br />
<br />
Love is humble, sacrificial and thankful.<br />
<br />
Love will take and hold
ground where brute force can only makes a pretense.<br />
<br />
Love will step aside
for God to promote a brother.<br />
<br />
It rejoices in the success of another.<br />
<br />
Love will admit wrong doing and bring forth repentant fruit.<br />
<br />
Love will
self examine and brick up the walls so evil shivers outside in the cold.<br />
<br />
Love protects the vine from fear of foxes.<br />
<br />
When love is perfected fear
is unknown.<br />
<br />
Love is a Kingdom Key.<br />
<br />
The hand that holds it<span class="text_exposed_show"> will see the rest opened.</span><br />
<i>
</i><br />
<br />
May the God of Love and Peace be with you, Shalom.<br />
<br />
-John LaMantia <div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-80372909942309682682014-04-13T13:18:00.000-08:002014-06-29T13:21:31.268-08:00Today is Palm SundayToday is Palm Sunday. Easter is a week away as Lent is concluding.
What a week that was in history. A week whose events are still
influencing history.<br />
<br />
Palm Sunday remembers the triumph of
Christ's entry into Jerusalem to cheers of, "Hosanna." This is often
interpreted to mean, "Save us!" but it had a forceful element of
worshipful praise accompanying it. The expectation of the Jewish people
was high for the overthrow of their immediate enemies and the
restoration of the forme<span class="text_exposed_show">r glory of Jerusalem.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
When we first encounter Christ we often have the same expectation. We,
like the Jews, have a different outcome in mind and are hoping for a
different deliverance. We are concerned about today but God has planned
for eternity.<br />
<br />
God's love is bigger than we know.<br />
<br />
Walk
with Him this week- into Jerusalem, to supper with friends, to the
Garden, to Calvary, to the tomb. Let us stand and peer into the
emptiness of our own understanding and praise the One whose humility
changed history. Let us trust the One who planned to bring us home.<br />
<br />
Kathy wrote a poem she shared with friends that highlights Christ's Palm Sunday ride with us in mind. I share it here.<br />
<br />
Blessings on this thoughtful day,<br />
<br />
John LaMantia<br />
<br />
He comes to shouts of Hosanna<br />
coats torn from backs<br />
thrown into the dirt<br />
palm branches<br />
stripped from trees<br />
faith's flags flying<br />
Hosanna, Hosanna<br />
His heart grasps<br />
the meaning<br />
that eludes us<br />
Obedience comes<br />
in the Name of the Lord<br />
A Lamb consumed comes<br />
in the Name of the Lord<br />
God rides to His death<br />
on a donkey for me<br />
<br />
Hosanna<br />
<br />
-by Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-15141024936657846612014-04-01T19:04:00.000-08:002014-06-29T19:07:35.095-08:00The God We Serve The God we serve is the same, yesterday, today and forever. That is a
powerful and comforting thought. Our individual, daily circumstances,
however, are all about change. Change can be a challenge even when it
seems good so it is helpful to partner with One who brings stability,
security and vision.<br />
<br />
I began my adult life in a tuxedo blowing a
clarinet in the orchestra. The idea that I would ever become an ordained
minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ was non existent except<span class="text_exposed_show"> in the mind of One who beholds the future as clearly as we see the words on this page.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
My personal journey took me to the Army Band in Germany where I made
the Savior my own, then on to the university for a teaching degree and
graduate school. I got married, had a son and taught while ministering
in my home church. The road to full time ministry, ordination, jail
ministry, chaplaincy and rescue mission work led me to this time in my
life.<br />
<br />
I am humbled and thrilled to have been selected to step
into the directorship of the Mission. I am honored to be one with a
towel and a basin. Service is such a privilege. It is a privilege that
weighs heavily upon my shoulders.<br />
<br />
I am grateful for God's
blessing and for the Board's vote of confidence. I appreciate Don and
Charlotte Bettis and the staff of the Mission for their support. A
special thank you to Bob Sloan and Bob Collins for introducing me to the
Mission and to my wife Kathy for her support and constant
encouragement. As for our supporting churches and donors- you must know
that your partnership means everything.<br />
<br />
May our journey together
be practical, graceful and obedient. I have treasured my time as your
Chaplain. I will do my very best to honor the Mission as its Director
and, for now, also its Chaplain.<br />
<br />
There have been so many hearts
that have broken in my hearing this past year that now I can hear that
breaking even when it is only a whisper. I can hear it even over the
angry raised voice of a man with no bed, no pride, no future.<br />
<br />
God
give us ears to listen even as you form within us a charitable
revolution that has at its core your will, your ways and your love. Let
us set aside all our own rules and make room for your reign. Your hand
will only bless what is truly yours.<br />
<br />
May God be glorified in the
work we do in the lovely Name of Jesus. May we listen and act as He
would act and love as He would love.<br />
<br />
In hope and humility,<br />
Rev. John T. LaMantia<br />
<br />
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<br />
Newsletter post from The Anchorage Gospel Rescue Mission April 2014</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-28712163241162409442014-03-05T14:17:00.000-09:002014-03-23T14:19:23.325-08:00Ash Wednesday<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">I
may practice devotions or I may cease simply reading and become a
devoted soul. I may consciously and practically choose a devoted life. I
may choose a life that shares the lesson; that says I am yours in all
the exhalations, all the resting beats, all the genuflections, all the
seconds between thoughts and actions. In the hazy line between moonset
and dawn, I am alert. Between the last squash and the first snowfall I
am a harvest of prose. I am set aside to notice the tiniest of changes,
the most imperceptible grace, the greening of new directions. I move in
the rhythm of your doings and speak but to answer your heart.<br /> <br /> Ash Wednesday<br /> <br /> -Kat</span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Morning Moon, watercolor and ink </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TMGpgaVPVzsOSx-HRS2o-BAYYY0VCq4ehCeIpqXD2phD4sF7U0u0-1e4bVHJ4XKV97Mrf0nnzD1LD9Jj0UxXTE2RLAotRkfu7bCY5DMDTPaXgBHYblmXjcYRcGXurSvEMq_67EvNVeaH/s1600/Morning+Moon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-TMGpgaVPVzsOSx-HRS2o-BAYYY0VCq4ehCeIpqXD2phD4sF7U0u0-1e4bVHJ4XKV97Mrf0nnzD1LD9Jj0UxXTE2RLAotRkfu7bCY5DMDTPaXgBHYblmXjcYRcGXurSvEMq_67EvNVeaH/s1600/Morning+Moon.JPG" height="320" width="220" /></a></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-43257840676557525932014-02-14T13:59:00.000-09:002014-03-23T14:02:42.519-08:00Hatching Glory<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">If
we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never
have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be
cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the
time and build your wings on the way down. -Ray Bradbury, Author <br /> <br /> To a special woman I know who is learning to build her wings.<br /> -kl</span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNahF3-DccWKsC7mBOM7xl-42HDPYNqcWoceBZMdjI2Q2UVbRA0E71Qj6zU0jFtPaD4Q9nGs0Wx6pf_LJGzWVfaxExXf9BgdUsSvO4f67Zi98O7Ubp5Qflo42qQtm_bjw3nSnvGyYpWu8/s1600/Hatching+Glory+by+Kat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyNahF3-DccWKsC7mBOM7xl-42HDPYNqcWoceBZMdjI2Q2UVbRA0E71Qj6zU0jFtPaD4Q9nGs0Wx6pf_LJGzWVfaxExXf9BgdUsSvO4f67Zi98O7Ubp5Qflo42qQtm_bjw3nSnvGyYpWu8/s1600/Hatching+Glory+by+Kat.JPG" height="261" width="400" /></a></div>
<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><br /> Hatching Glory, watercolor and ink</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-66692263591502378232014-01-25T20:48:00.003-09:002014-01-25T20:48:54.426-09:00A Debt Of Love<i><span class="text Rom-13-8">Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. Romans 13:8</span></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtGRwc-Q3SzAPHqjLazUV3gyo5US3PFlq1JXwin9idAQLm0Hrbb2HuUlDAVxxfV9KV1IRRetZZmGueJlzz6715LFhEuS6PYUj-dX6JhO5dI1Vmrm98rPe_0t11GCEn8UBUd6KhX0LuSX6L/s1600/tea+party+cups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtGRwc-Q3SzAPHqjLazUV3gyo5US3PFlq1JXwin9idAQLm0Hrbb2HuUlDAVxxfV9KV1IRRetZZmGueJlzz6715LFhEuS6PYUj-dX6JhO5dI1Vmrm98rPe_0t11GCEn8UBUd6KhX0LuSX6L/s1600/tea+party+cups.jpg" height="320" width="246" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">A few days ago another lady and I loved a group of homeless women at a special tea held just for them at a local Rescue Mission. Cloth table cloths, colorful plates and napkins, centerpieces with potted plants and ceramic birds, homemade cookies and red velvet cupcakes. There were hand painted ceramic cups to replace the usual Mission donations that had a Seattle Seahawk's logo or an encouragement to bank at the credit union.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">Some of the women were stunned. Some were suspicious. Some asked where the coffee was. All warmed to the idea as quickly as a tea cosy absorbs the heat from the pot. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">My husband always laughs at how two men can ride to the top floor and never break the silence in the elevator but two women can go a few floors and discover where shoes are on sale, how to potty train a toddler and when the next season of Downton Abbey will be out on DVD. The tea was a delightful demonstration of that very connectedness.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">We all guard our hearts and the homeless more so than most, but as women we always seem to leave a window unlocked. Christ slipped right in with the tea. It was a beautiful and rewarding moment when after a devotion about how God will never unlove us, the room relaxed and talk of plans and hopes and past loves filled our Valentine themed Tea.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">There was laughter and gratitude and refills. There was singing. Some of it was not ready for prime time though I tried my best, <i>I</i> am no singer. Lady after lady, young and mature offered up her favorite love song for our enjoyment. Each woman had a love song even though she may have been without a home.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">It was a transforming time. I know this because <i>Jean and I</i> went home transformed. It is always that way. We start out to give only to find we cannot empty the cup. Heaven's endless supply just keeps pouring until we are all awash in God's goodness. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">Romans speaks of the continuing debt of love we owe to one another, which is really a debt of gratitude to Jesus who loved us and gave Himself for us. Our lavishing that unselfish, generous affection on our neighbors is a way of honoring His sacrifice. In the distant past in some cultures one could pay a debt with tea. For me it was a custom worth reviving. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span class="text Rom-13-8"> </span><br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">One of these days Christ will return and we will all take a ride to the top floor. I want to be in the elevator where the love songs are sung by women who have found a home in Him. Until then I am making tea in the biggest pot I can find.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8">-kl </span><br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8"><br /></span>
<span class="text Rom-13-8"><br /></span>
<br />
<span class="text Rom-13-8"> </span> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-41310227454079921852014-01-14T19:24:00.001-09:002014-01-14T19:26:46.633-09:00Awakening, A Morning Psalm<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcaYUis5F5N_0I0Z7tN9xoF9CafpCqYt7qxVt28zeUBj0j8S8AGbIgoM3bndd25tezmvfriBN6Gd55SzdmNFzp0aJL0aFRAmKvLsCRtnWhMdnpyOW7fUkzzKcaZUAzoSAeelhwBD-Qlmi/s1600/fractal-art-silvia-cordedda1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcaYUis5F5N_0I0Z7tN9xoF9CafpCqYt7qxVt28zeUBj0j8S8AGbIgoM3bndd25tezmvfriBN6Gd55SzdmNFzp0aJL0aFRAmKvLsCRtnWhMdnpyOW7fUkzzKcaZUAzoSAeelhwBD-Qlmi/s400/fractal-art-silvia-cordedda1.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The dawn broke over <br />the mountain, your mountain,<br />blinding white and prismatic<br />The sun, your sun, discovered<br />an uncurtained sliver<br />of window, my window<br />and the room exploded<br />into brilliance</span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"> </span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Just a sliver of you <br />was all it took to find me, <br />to make me shield my eyes<br />from your furious sunrise</span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"> </span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">"Light, exist!" <br />Oh, God, how glorious<br />you must have been <br />when darkness dissolved<br />in the fire of your will<br />and a million mornings rushed <br />upon eternity, your eternity</span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"> </span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Uncurtain my heart, My Urgent Lover<br />I surrender to this new day, your day </span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Dazzle me! </span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Awakening, A Morning Psalm<br />-by Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia</span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">To the One who is the Word</span></em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: large;"></span></em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Fractal art by permission of Silvia Cordedda</span></em></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-35921559483638096112014-01-09T19:37:00.000-09:002014-01-09T19:37:04.942-09:00Table For Five<br />
I was brought up Roman Catholic and have said my share of Our Fathers, Hail Marys and Glory Bes prior to praying a personal prayer of reconciliation in Jesus name.<br />
<br />
I have prayed in Latin and in English.<br />
<br />
I have prayed out of fear; out of desperation; out of obligation.<br />
<br />
Somewhere along the line I just started to turn my thoughts towards God and found He was listening.<br />
<br />
I put down the prayer book and the Rosary and had a real conversation with the one Jesus said was <em>Ours.</em><br />
<br />
While recently reading Matthew in the Message I fell in love with the Our Father that I had banished for many years.<br />
<br />
After reading and meditating on it I have to say I give it five stars.<br />
<br />
I found myself guided by it to ask God: <br />
<br />
Show yourself<br />
Bring your world into my world<br />
Act on my best interest<br />
Keep me fed, forgiven and open hearted; from evil, from spite<br />
Be God<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9yInjm82QLaRlPNjh5QCn5ExuO8hGD2UY4cFCWYm3Heuho3260A90KzRBGGbntWgVqqeT4ER6f4NBehyphenhypheny1YPYrrdulf1NkTYljqSXuS_wjxFiiAS3LIXdexB897-LcreZDfT2Yz9YUCje/s1600/Table+for+Five+by+Kat+LaMantia+%25287%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9yInjm82QLaRlPNjh5QCn5ExuO8hGD2UY4cFCWYm3Heuho3260A90KzRBGGbntWgVqqeT4ER6f4NBehyphenhypheny1YPYrrdulf1NkTYljqSXuS_wjxFiiAS3LIXdexB897-LcreZDfT2Yz9YUCje/s1600/Table+for+Five+by+Kat+LaMantia+%25287%2529.png" height="218" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Read it for yourself in Matthew chapter 6:<br />
<br />
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Our Father in heaven,</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Reveal who you are.</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Set the world right;</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Do what’s best—</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">as above, so below.</span></span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Keep us alive with three square meals.</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Keep us forgiven with you and forgiving others.</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Keep us safe from ourselves and the Devil.</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">You’re in charge!</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">You can do anything you want!</span><br /><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">You’re ablaze in beauty!</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">Yes. Yes. Yes.</span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13"></span></span> </div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">With each different idea I let myself enjoy what it means to me to have a personal involvement with my Father. </span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13"></span></span> </div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">I shed the cares and emotional car crashes that hinder my freedom.</span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13"></span></span> </div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">I let people back into my world I was inclined to post a no vacancy sign on behalf of.</span></span></div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13"></span></span> </div>
<div class="line">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Matt-6-7-Matt-6-13">I just adored Him.</span></span></div>
</div>
<br />
Five treasures in one prayer.<br />
<br />
The Our Father is back on the menu.<br />
<br />
Sister Serafina would be proud.<br />
<br />
-kl<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-82839763873298664712014-01-02T20:29:00.002-09:002014-01-04T11:46:52.523-09:00Continuum<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQj_0TBOCL9rhBpuyGMPnfUvUwFOCGm9AXLNlv47G3EaF7PUnSafmQtiFHrDO-8hO8RTdaEYEpP9H-0VMxcnojYYfoxl4qXC6VbwttdvQg4K6EwT78Tw-_GZLlf2EnKz8_QE_OTl_08zAj/s1600/fractal-art-silvia-cordedda11.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQj_0TBOCL9rhBpuyGMPnfUvUwFOCGm9AXLNlv47G3EaF7PUnSafmQtiFHrDO-8hO8RTdaEYEpP9H-0VMxcnojYYfoxl4qXC6VbwttdvQg4K6EwT78Tw-_GZLlf2EnKz8_QE_OTl_08zAj/s320/fractal-art-silvia-cordedda11.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I loved you once and forever<br />
more than the forever of<br />
the dearest childhood memory<br />
or the taste of a first kiss<br />
<br />
I loved you <span style="font-style: italic;">now</span> in a way<br />
that went backwards<br />
and forwards in the
same instant<br />
and never disappeared<br />
<br />
I loved you with all the looking<br />
my eyes would ever do<br />
and all the touching that could<br />
live in tactile memories<br />
<br />
I loved you before there was
you<br />
when you were only a promise<br />
when you were a
prophecy<br />
passing over my lips<br />
<br />
I loved you in all the times<br />
that were not in-time<br />
but were instead in-God<br />
and came from His thoughts<br />
<br />
I loved you then and in all<br />
the days unborn <br />
in moments unbaptized<br />
unnamed and unknown<br />
<br />
I loved you once and forever<br />
without amendments or fine print<br />
without treaties or lawyers<br />
or the sound of snow breaking branches<br />
<br />
I<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>only<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span> loved you <br />
<br />
Continuum<br />
(A poem for my sweet husband John's birthday)<br />
-by Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia<br />
<br />
January 2, 2014</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-1"><i>God’s</i> blessings follow you <i>and await you at every turn:</i></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-1-1">when you don’t follow the advice of those who delight in wicked schemes,</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-1-1">When you avoid sin’s highway,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-1-1">when judgment and sarcasm beckon you, but you refuse.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-1-2" id="en-VOICE-13348"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>For you, the Eternal's Word is your happiness.</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-1-2">It is your focus—from dusk to dawn.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-1-3" id="en-VOICE-13349"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>You are like a tree,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-1-3">planted by <i>flowing, cool</i> streams of water <i>that never run dry</i>.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-1-3">Your fruit ripens in its time;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-1-3">your leaves never fade or curl <i>in the summer sun</i>.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-1-3">No matter what you do, you prosper.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-3">Psalm 1 </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-3">The Voice </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-3"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-3"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-3"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Ps-1-3">Fractal art by Silvia Cordedda</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-1-3">with permission </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-29633211474167260592014-01-01T13:14:00.000-09:002014-01-01T23:27:03.345-09:00The Silence Between The Waves<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">I remember standing on the wet, cold sand of Ocean City one early July morning of my thirteenth summer. The beach was empty except for the crabs hiding in their sandy holes, their locations revealed by a telltale bubble when the waves drew back from the beach.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"> </span> </span></span><br />
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_57" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_119" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><span id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_83">The
sea looked friendly enough. The sea was a liar. One moment I was
swimming on her foamy breast and the next I was upside down in her green sucking undertow. </span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_57" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_119" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_83"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_133" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkqiNBHejqlC_GNVesRonfJmmENa7NPw9HIDaCyas416hPYs3dWUX72FRNM4ht37A7uoKqwhFl6t7Csm93X59be4s60ETdVS8VDsINLy7Zlx1TG2P0-n1uEu_QC35E1N8tfyvHKZpCLtn/s1600/spiral-horizontal_1892927i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkqiNBHejqlC_GNVesRonfJmmENa7NPw9HIDaCyas416hPYs3dWUX72FRNM4ht37A7uoKqwhFl6t7Csm93X59be4s60ETdVS8VDsINLy7Zlx1TG2P0-n1uEu_QC35E1N8tfyvHKZpCLtn/s400/spiral-horizontal_1892927i.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_57" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_119" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><span id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_83"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_133" /></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_59" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_148" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><span id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_83">Those who live with the ocean hear the crashing of the waves </span>as
do those of us who only visit. What those intimate with her hear also is
the silence between the waves. In those moments of silence the ocean is
gathering strength to birth the
next onslaught. We hear the crash, we capture the curls on film or
canvas but the power of her silence is invisible to the uninitiated and can be mistaken for weakness, even safety, or be missed entirely.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_60" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_223" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_227" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_61" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_224" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">The
ocean drew back from the shore at high tide and it drew me deeper into
her great lungs. What was silent above was noisy and urgent below. I was
caught in the sea's powerful assembly line where every sound was
amplified and every movement insistent.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_62" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_240" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_245" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_63" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_242" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">I
very nearly drowned that morning before being slammed back onto the
beach with a nose full of salt water and a bathing suit full of sand and
rocks.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_64" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_255" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_260" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_65" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_257" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">There are moments in my life when my ocean is full of swells and curls
and flying foam. But my heart
lives between the waves in the silence that prays and listens then
bears down to push. When the ocean is "quiet" she recovers her strength
to go on. To move things from one shore to the next. To patiently
wear away great rocks. To be drawn up into the clouds and make rain. To
change her world. She is at her most robust when she seems to be only holding her breath. </span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_66" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_288" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_293" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_67" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_290" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">Let
it be so in the year that has arrived on our shore. May we welcome the
gathering strength of the silence between its waves. May we welcome the
One who whispers between the breakers, who set limits upon the great
bodies of
water but who promised us unlimited resources to accomplish the
loving ends of His precious Kingdom.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_69" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_154" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">May
that Kingdom come to us in the year ahead. May it inspire and anoint
our diverse beaches. May it reveal the <i>deep things </i>of God to us. May
it baptize anew our every hope. May its eloquent silences be sought after.<br /><br />May we welcome prayer with new hospitality.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_70" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_354" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_359" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_71" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_356" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">I wish you all a joyous and loving New Year.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_72" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_326" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_331" /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_73" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_328" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;">-kl</span></span></span></div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_73" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_328" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="poetry top-1">
<div class="first-line-none top-1" id="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_97">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e69138;"><span class="text 1Cor-2-6-1Cor-2-10">No one’s ever seen or heard anything like this,</span> <span class="text 1Cor-2-6-1Cor-2-10">Never so much as imagined anything quite like it—</span><span class="text 1Cor-2-6-1Cor-2-10" id="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_115">What God has arranged for those who love him.</span><span class="text 1Cor-2-6-1Cor-2-10" id="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_100"> But <i>you’ve</i> seen and heard it because God by his Spirit has brought it all out into the open before you.</span><span class="text 1Cor-2-10-1Cor-2-13" id="en-MSG-12146"><sup class="versenum" id="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_103"> </sup>The
Spirit, not content to flit around on the surface, dives into the
depths of God, and brings out what God planned all along. Who ever knows
what you’re thinking and planning except you yourself? The same with
God—except that he not only knows what he’s thinking, but he lets <i>us</i> in on it. God offers a full report on the gifts of life and salvation that he is giving us.</span> 1 Corinthians 2 (Message)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="yui_3_7_2_26_1388612024549_74" id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_332" style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal;">
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<br id="yiv4895467134yui_3_7_2_26_1388607367061_343" /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-60880871032481568562013-12-24T15:02:00.002-09:002013-12-24T18:55:08.881-09:00Midnight Mass, A Christmas Offering<div id="yui_3_7_2_40_1387924849567_56">
<span id="yui_3_7_2_40_1387924849567_86"><br /></span></div>
Give me a heart <br />
of incense<br />
smoke that rises<br />
in hazy spirals<br />
rippling like fragrant<br />
satin ribbons-<br />
My worshipful heart<br />
ascending <br />
carried in the smoky praise<br />
Breathe me in <br />
Let me fill whatever lungs <br />
inhale Heaven's air-<br />
I am only this <br />
<br />
Midnight Mass<br />
by Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia<br />
<br />
To Jesus who bent down that I may rise- <br />
Merry Christmas to my Savior!<br />
12/24/2013<br />
<br />
It is Christmas Eve and I will be attending Midnight Mass at St. Patrick's in Anchorage, AK.<br />
<br />
St. Pat's has Mass all evening but they only perfume the sanctuary with smoking censers of sacred incense at midnight.<br />
<br />
That is the one for me.<br />
<br />
It evokes childhood memories of counting the minutes until Jesus would be reborn for us all each Christmas. I always wanted to begin Christmas in church. I wanted Christ to find me there come early to the party. Waiting.<br />
<br />
When Mass was over the smell of worship and welcome lingered on my hair and clothing all the way home. In all the ways that matter the Holy, Holy, Holy of it lingers still. The difference is that I am discontent to simply stand in the incense offered by other hands. I want to <i>be</i> that fragrant offering Heaven saves in bottles<br />
to be released to the joy and excitation of praise from the Beasts around His throne.<br />
<br />
Unbelievable as it seems, Eternity wants this. Heaven breaths on the offerings I have made to charity but it inhales my unadorned worship spoken in secret- just my heart to the One upon the throne and those who attend Him. All any of us have to give is what is in our hearts. All we have to celebrate began with Christ and His obedient offering.<br />
<br />
Tonight as I stand in the smoky sanctuary I will be His gift rising from the ashes of His own sacrifice.*<br />
<br />
I invite you to join me from right where you are.<br />
<br />
-kl<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fPLGtmULQ51Gd28GgYbSMJwlK73dyNbWzm0HssV5mGlrTd9TchW2iVoS1nM_3D-tInqXcF5w9m8FpFOWj3Xf68Dv6Sc6cLnXtxdaGPWkeWd3xcWi8NiO10qXyYRGv6aXUJ1zM467PzZM/s1600/12_01_09_Thurible.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fPLGtmULQ51Gd28GgYbSMJwlK73dyNbWzm0HssV5mGlrTd9TchW2iVoS1nM_3D-tInqXcF5w9m8FpFOWj3Xf68Dv6Sc6cLnXtxdaGPWkeWd3xcWi8NiO10qXyYRGv6aXUJ1zM467PzZM/s1600/12_01_09_Thurible.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Blessings for a Holy-Merry-Fragrant-Christmas!<br />
<br />
<br />
* I will also have with me a special love offering in memory of and in celebration of the sons of three mothers who are my friends: Sally's son Justin, Melody's son Brent and Kelly's son Jason. Sons who are too loved to be forgotten.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2243596838482430661.post-19205074121800624752013-12-22T21:49:00.000-09:002013-12-22T21:55:51.365-09:00Songs Unknown To Cats<br />
<span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Broken Blessings</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">He uses the bare lilac as a ladder<br /> hopping furtively closer to the chipped<br /> iron railing and finally to the old ceramic<br /> bird feeder filled with salvation<br /> <br /> He is less afraid today or maybe<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> just more hungry than yesterday<br /> His flight feathers are injured and I would<br /> guess he was preoccupied when the tabby<br /> caught him just barely but not enough<br /> <br /> He will heal in time if he is careful to stay beyond<br /> her unforgiving claws and if he does not starve<br /> Thistle seeds will help- these prickly, purple holy things<br /> A curse on the earth but a blessing in afterthought<br /> <br /> Sometimes the very things that undo us<br /> prove our passage-paid-ahead to some blessed event<br /> The world is full of gratitude waiting to be revealed like<br /> nourishment hiding beneath stickers<br /> <br /> Tomorrow he will sit upon my hand and we will both feel less injured<br /> We are brothers, bird and I, and we will sing songs unknown to cats<br /> until the lilacs speak of spring<br /> <br /> -Kat Cavanaugh LaMantia</span></span><br />
<br />
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.<span class="p"> Psalm 23:5</span><br />
<br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nc-nd/3.0/88x31.png" /></a><br />This work is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/">Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License</a>.</div>Shotgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11690410498558558934noreply@blogger.com0