I'm sitting here trying to get a hold on how I nearly burned down the covered patio by barbecuing bone-in chicken breasts while I planned and prepped other things in the kitchen. I know time can get away from me sometimes, but I tell ya I was in here for 30 minutes and I set the burners on low!
I probably shouldn't post today's attempt at making something real on my new recipe blog. Or maybe I should. Keeping it real. Real, even if it is burned, leads to trust.
Like standing in front of a congregation of missed-the-mark makers like me (many of whom I don't know), telling my charred story, knowing it'll be recorded, knowing my family will be listening. It's a burnt offering, my homologeo. A sum of all that I can put in appropriate words at this time offered up to the Refiner's fire who's been keeping me real through it all.
A very dear person to me asked why Jews and Christians don't agree about Jesus recently. The analytical soul wants to know who's right. How's one supposed to make a decision when millions of people hold to one opinion and millions of others hold to another. My answer comes with too much history... not easy to receive. I pointed the questioner to some "experts" and another homologeoer.
I'm no expert. I'm a blind woman who finally sees she's blind. All I know is I once thought I saw but was really blind, until the Light of the World revealed my blindness and restored my sight.
Sheila is Gaelic for: blind. Once I read it comes from a word referring to a blind woman who loves music. My mother's honoring of her twin friends in naming me was unknowingly meaningful.
I was a blind woman, I am still blind in many ways. I see in part, but I hear the music. The heavenly music of a Redeemer. Soul ears full of the chorus of many waters. The Voice of truth sings in me.
Israel heard His voice too:
Today if you will hear his voice, 'Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion. As in the day of trial in the wilderness. -Psalm 95:7-8
Israel, the chosen people. The people through whom came the Savior of the world. Israel the cut off branch. Me the grafted in wild blind woman. Warned through her (Israel) not to become haughty.
I'm not an expert at cooking or explaining why I believing the Jesus of history is the Messiah who came through the Jews. I'm just a blind woman who loves the redeeming music I've heard from the Word.
I used to think I was an expert. I thought I could see too. The blind leading the blind. Now I just know Christ is saving me from my blindness.
This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.- 1 Timothy 1:15
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind but now I see. -John Newton
Quieted,
Sheila
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