Pre-Easter Story

The Parable of the Tenants

³³ “Hear another parable. There was a master of a house who planted a vineyard and put a fence around it and dug a winepress in it and built a tower and leased it to tenants, and went into another country. ³⁴ When the season for fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the tenants to get his fruit.³⁵ And the tenants took his servants and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. ³⁶ Again he sent other servants, more than the first. And they did the same to them. ³⁷ Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ ³⁸ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and have his inheritance.’ ³⁹ And they took him and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. ⁴⁰ When therefore the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” ⁴¹ They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death and let out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the fruits in their seasons.”

⁴² Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the Scriptures:

“‘The stone that the builders rejected
    has become the cornerstone;
this was the Lord's doing,
    and it is marvelous in our eyes’?

⁴³ Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people producing its fruits. ⁴⁴ And the one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and when it falls on anyone, it will crush him.”

⁴⁵ When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they perceived that he was speaking about them. ⁴⁶ And although they were seeking to arrest him, they feared the crowds, because they held him to be a prophet.

Matthew 21

What's Done is Done

Great news! My friend Kevin Toqe is releasing a new album, "What's Done is Done" in the coming months. Even better news--profits will be shared with Emmy's House, a nonprofit that helps survivors of human trafficking. Kevin composed one of my favorite songs, "Grace." 

Grace Romans 8:1, 38–39
It’s the first thing I think about, love to talk about 
when I think of you. 
And this thing will never shy away or run away 
no matter what I do. 
On the days when my life is more bloodied than clean, 
from the wreckage where I cannot deny 
the blame is on me

But when the world must turn its head away 
because it cannot bear my black and blues. 
You turn your head to me and say 
“You know I love you.”

It’s the last thing expected by one who’s done a crime 
and caused so much pain. 
It’s the sentence You’ve rearranged with a sudden change 
and an unexpected rhyme. 
On the days when I was weeping all the way through the night 
from the fears that stole my sleeping, that told me 
“Your wrongs will never be made right…” 
that’s not true, that’s not right.

Want to be a part of all this goodness? Support Kevin on Indiegogo. You see, he still needs people to pledge $5,000 worth of product purchases before he can release the album. There's no catch; if the money is not raised, you are refunded. As my father says, "The proof is in the pudding", so check out his first two albums on his website: http://www.kevintoqe.com. He's on iTunes too!

Marching On

Back from Europe and on with the show! Spurred by recent travels, I have been thinking quite often the past three weeks about my self-knowledge versus God's knowledge of what is best for me. Although I could describe the sorts of people and circumstances that make me happy and productive, only God truly knows what sort of environments and companions are best for me. Thankfully, I can trust Him to shape my life for His glory. As I continue to watch His wisdom unfold, here are some glimpses of His best.

First Weekend in March: Mom's 60th Birthday

  

Second Weekend in March: Napping with a mini-human*

Third Weekend in March: Cavorting with mini-humans

*Disclaimer: I am in possession of an alternate picture that is much less "Please leave affirming comments about my adorable maternal potential" and much more "Hah, look--I'm keeping up with a premium napper!" My defense is that Blogger and Microsoft Picture Viewer are currently in dispute about right-angled rotation and yours truly is not capable of coaxing them out of it.

On His Blindness

On His Blindness

by John Milton

written mid-1600's

When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,

And that one talent which is death to hide

Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, lest he returning chide,

"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts: who best

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed

And post o'er land and ocean without rest:

They also serve who only stand and wait."

(The last line makes this one of my favorite poems for conviction, reassurances, and contemplation. Perhaps this is one of the first poems on disability.)

Steal Like an Artist

This afternoon immediately after finishing a second read of Steal Like an Artist, I revisited an unobtrusive Dover edition of 100 Best-Loved Poems in a vain attempt to shake the first two lines of "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" from my overwrought head. What did I discover? A poem entitled "Richard Cory" written in 1897 by American Edward Robinson.

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich -- yes, richer than a king --
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread; 
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.


I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that my man Paul Simon "steals like an artist." There is nothing new under the sun.



(Email subscribers click here for the video embedded above.)