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Yahweh
Raffa To Yahweh Raffa, the God who heals, I (the old biddy seeing stars from my big fall) offer my 2—that is, the 2+cm gap between the two now-disconnected parts of my broken clavicle, a gap that must heal or I face surgery. |
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I offer my worthless cup. That cup by my chart—it represents my “specimen.” In the ER when I went to “give my offering” for the nurse, I was so out of it that I was nearly finished emptying my bladder before I remember what I was in that room to do. I had a task, an assignment, and the cup was sitting up on the sink—not where it was supposed to be. The whole void thing was pretty much voided out. I couldn’t even offer something worthless the right way. Paul said his own righteousness was worth what goes in that cup in comparison to the surpassing greatness of knowing Him and sharing in His suffering. The corner of the card is broken, as is my body right now. I offer it to Him anyway. And I offer my blog (the computer) through which to tell about His goodness during this trial. |
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While I’ve been sleeping, He has launched our infertility book in Spanish, and Wal-Mart has decided to carry a floor display with our last two books on it. The pens here have the lids on them to demonstrate that I have not even been writing these books as I’ve been laid up, but He has been using me anyway—while I’ve slept. |
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| One
translation of a verse in Psalm 127 says, “He gives His beloved
sleep,” but another way to translate it is “He gives to His
beloved even as [the beloved] sleeps.” The latter has been true
for me this week. I am His beloved, and He has blessed me as I’ve
accomplished nothing. - Sandra Glahn |
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