The Ugly Man

He opened the door and saw her before him, a pretty young blonde woman with a bright, perky smile, holding a wad of attractive leaflets. Her smile wavered slightly when she saw him, and he knew why - it was a familiar experience for him - he was ugly.

He was so ugly in fact that his father used to joke to his friends that the doctor slapped the mother at birth, causing everyone to laugh, thinking that the boy was asleep, rather than cowered at the top of the stairs, tears flowing down his disfigured cheeks.

The woman on his doorstep recovered her composure, held out a leaflet and said, “Did you know that Jesus loves you?”

He looked at her kindly, conscious of his coarse, gnarled hands, his broken smile and twisted countenance, and recalling the years of lonely pain and sorrow replied, “Does he?”

She stood silent for a while, gazing at this broken creature before her, then reached forward, took hold of his hands in hers, and wept.

Gift

My youngest went away for a youth weekend - her first time away from us for more than a sleepover. She brought me the coolest present for my guitar.



I don't normally go for Christian tat but what a pun! :)

Pastures Green

Henry loved his daily walks with Jess his Border Collie along the Kentish countryside, the veritable Garden of England. He breathed in the Spring air deeply, savouring the scent of young, vibrant wild flowers, while across ancient hedgerows flocks of sheep chewed grass and stared stupidly at one man and his dog. The path left the fields for a time, crossing a deserted railway, the old line between Leigh and Penshurst that once carried commuters up to London, rushing past the beauty that Henry absorbed at his leisure.

He followed the line dreamily for half a mile, collecting mushrooms while Jess bounded ahead searching for rabbits. She suddenly disappeared around a bend and Henry called for her but she did not respond, at least not initially, until frantic barks preceded the new tourist train that flattened the hapless wanderer and his leisurely day dreams.

On board ignorant travellers scarcely noticed the bump or the anguished dog as they gorged on over-priced snacks and rushed by pastures green, hurrying to see all there was to see.

Easter

God said "be"
man said "me"
life was lost

sad darkness reigned
Christ said "Me"
instead of him.

Enigma of the Cross

There are some things about substitutionary atonement that I don't get.

If I do something wrong and someone offers to take the punishment for me, then it is a very noble thing to be sure, but is it “right”? I deserve to be punished, not the other person, so to say that justice has been fulfilled feels a bit more like fancy accounting to balance the books than real justice.

I also don't get punishment. If my children do wrong they need to be taught not to do it again, and punishment is part of that, but its more to do with teaching than with settling a debt in justice terms. It is up to me, the law giver to decide whether the misdeed needs repayment, and usually I choose to write off the debt.

So why is God not like that? These are His laws, and he says what is just or not, so why can't he just write off the debt? Unless there is a higher law which says its unjust for him to do this, then there is no reason why Jesus had to die.

Please don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I'm not grateful for His death, I just don't understand the logic.

Normal

When I woke up this morning I noticed that I had ten toes. This caused me great consternation because up until now I have only had eight, because that's normal, and I could not abide being different.

So I dressed carefully, choosing my daintiest outfit, matching shoes and bag, and ventured out, a little self-conscious but confident that I would be able to pull it off. However soon I noticed them looking, those eight toers, the smirks, the raised eye brows, the whispers, and in my distress ran home crying.

My husband was watching the footie but noticed my tears and since he asked me what was wrong I told him. The concern on his face was apparent, and I could hear him thinking in his head about the crisis he had ended up in, and whether this marriage was worth it, but all he said was, "I don't understand, I can see your toes, despite your cunning efforts, and you have eight toes!"

I looked at him, amazed at his lack of sensitivity, the gall that he had to taunt me so, but then looked down at my feet, and yes, silly me, I had miscounted, and was normal after all - eight cute little toes.