CowPi Journal

When you think of the first Christmas, do you think of Good Friday?

When you see the Cross, do you think of the first Christmas?

The life of Jesus is the bridge between the first Christmas and Good Friday, a bridge that leads to Easter Sunday, to redemption, reconciliation, liberation, to love, peace, and energy—a bridge to God. A bridge we are invited to cross.

“…and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means “God is with us.” (Matthew 1:23)

(And He is still with us…)

Here.
Here’s my heart
I know at times I can hold it back,
cautiously ensuring it will be handled with great compassion,
carefully making certain
my dreams will not be ridiculed
or the words of my soul trampled on.
But I’m so heavy right now
and maybe if I release my heart to you
some of the burden will be lifted.
And with the burden lifted maybe
my feeling of value and importance will be restored.
I’m not all that different from anyone else.
I just want to know that I am seen,
really seen.
I just want to be heard.
I want to open my mouth and let it spill out,
not just observations about the weather,
or cute stories about my son,
or needless gossip about an acquaintance.
No, I want to talk about the deeper things,
the things I’ve been holding in so long,
the things that really matter—
the dreams,
the fears,
the failures,
the doubts,
the passion,
the crushing weight of it all.
Then, after I’ve emptied every corner of my soul
I want only one thing in return—
my face cradled in your hands,
lifted to meet your gaze,
and then a holy kiss
placed gently on my forehead,
a kiss that says there’s no need for words because
you understand it all,
you understand every cry of my bruised heart.

— Michelle Ensminger [via]

Here is an interesting story about the origin of a semi-well known phrase:

Every sailing ship had to have cannon for protection. Cannon of the times required round iron cannonballs. The gunner wanted to store the cannonballs such that they could be of instant use when needed, yet not roll around the gun deck.

The solution was to stack the cannonballs up in a square-based pyramid next to the cannon. The top level of the stack had one ball, the second level down had four, the third had nine, and the base had sixteen. Four levels provided a stack of 30 cannonballs.

The only real problem was how to keep the bottom level from sliding out from under the weight of the higher levels. To do this, they devised a small brass plate known as a “brass monkey” with one round indentation for each cannonball in the bottom layer. Brass was used because the cannonballs would not rust to the brass monkey, but would rust to one made of iron.

When the temperature falls, brass contracts in size faster than iron. As it got cold on the gun decks, the indentations in the brass monkey would get smaller than the iron cannonballs they were holding. If the temperature got cold enough, the bottom layer of cannonballs would pop out of the indentations spilling the entire pyramid over the deck.

Thus it was, quite literally, “cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey.”

The second and last letter in the alphabet of Love:

Just then she looked up at the cliffs above her head and started with surprise and delight. In a tiny crevice of the rock, where a few drops from the trickling waterfall could occasionally sprinkle on it, was a single plant. It had just two or three leaves, and one fragile stem, almost hairlike in its slenderness, grew out at right angles to the wall. On the stem was one flower, blood red in color, which glowed like a lamp or flame of fire in the early rays of the sun.

Much-Afraid stared at it for some moments noticing the wall which completely imprisoned it, the minute aperture through which it had forced its way to the light, and the barren loneliness of its surroundings. Its roots were clamped around by sheer rock, its leaves scarcely able to press outside bursting into bloom, and was holding its little face open to the sun and burning like a flame of joy. As she looked up at it Much-Afraid asked, as she had in the desert, “What is your name, little flower, for indeed I never saw another like you.”

At that moment the sun touched the blood-red petals so that they shone more vividly than ever, and a little whisper rustled from the leaves.

“My name is ‘Bearing-the-Cost,’ but some call me ‘Forgiveness.’”

Then Much-Afraid recalled the words of the Shepherd, “On the way up the precipice you will discover the next letter in the alphabet of Love. Begin to practice it at once.”

She gazed at the little flower and said, “Why call you that?”

Once more, a little whispering laugh passed through the leaves, and she thought she heard them say, “I was separated from all my companions, exiled from home, carried here and imprisoned in this rock. It was not my choice, but the work of others who, when they had dropped me here, went away and left me to bear the results of what they had done.

“I have borne and not fainted; I have not ceased to love, and Love helped me push through this crack in the rock until I could look right out onto my Love the sun himself. See now! There is nothing whatever between my Love and my heart, nothing around to distract me from him. He shines upon me and makes me to rejoice, and has atoned to me for all that was taken from me and done against me. There is no flower in all the world more blessed or more satisfied than I, for I look up to him as a weaned child and say, ‘Whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire but thee.’”

Much-Afraid looked at the glowing flame above her head, and a longing which was almost envy leaped into her heart. She knew what she must do. Kneeling on the narrow path beneath the imprisoned flower, she said, “O my Lord, behold me—I am thy little handmaiden Bearing-the-Cost.”

— Hannah Hurnard, Hind’s Feet on High Places

Bearing-the-Cost — Carry-Your-Cross, do they sound alike? Also known as Forgiveness, hmm…humility?

“There is nothing whatever between my Love and my heart…” — “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)

“He shines upon me and makes me to rejoice, and has atoned to me for all that was taken from me and done against me.” — ” Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.” (Matthew 5:6 and the other Beatitudes)