SAMAEL KREUTZ & Herzwerk Blog (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I heard it again the other day. It was said in an effort to encourage someone suffering from clinical depression.
“God won’t give you more than you can handle.”
It’s not scriptural; it’s not biblical; it’s not even true. Yet I’ve heard it said to parents mourning the loss of a baby; to a mother whose child has turned from following the Lord; to children who found their parent had a terminal illness; to a husband whose wife had been unfaithful.
In each instance, the person saying it was trying to be helpful.
In each instance, it fell far short.
It’s Intermission! The lights come up, you can get up and stretch, maybe get a snack or a drink … In other words, welcome to this edition of Thursday Intermission, your weekly break.
First up, Mr. Bean’s having a little trouble coming up with a way to tip a busker.
And, let we be accused of being non-educational, a science class is in order. Science: adorable.
Finally, for no reason, really: The screaming sheep.
Uh … Make a joyful noise?
A shepherd and his sheep on the way to Hampta Pass in the Indian Himalayas of Himachal Pradesh. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Sunday School was a routine of life when I was growing up. And somewhere along the way, just like many children in Sunday Schools everywhere, we memorized Psalm 23.
After we had memorized it, the teacher gave us each a wooden plaque to celebrate the achievement. On it was painted a picture of a shepherd and a lamb, along with the first verse of the Psalm:
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
I put the plaque in a place where I saw it often. I liked the sheep, although the shepherd seemed awfully small in comparison. As for the Psalm itself? It didn’t make sense to me.
After all, if the Lord were my Shepherd, why wouldn’t I want Him?
Matt Redman’s “The Father’s Song” is a beautiful love song. If you don’t know it–and even if you do–you might enjoy hearing it.
“The Father’s song,
The Father’s love,
You sung it over me and for eternity
It’s written on my heart.”
Think about the words, about how the Father surrounds you with His love, His care.
And then, after you’ve soaked it in, go outside. Go where there are people. And let this song run through your mind, through your spirit.
See that guy who cut you off in traffic? The Father sings over him, too.
That teacher who seems to dislike your child? The Father’s song is for her, too.
That neighbor with whom you just can’t seem to get along, that co-worker who rubs you the wrong way, that person who seems so different from you…
The Father sings over each one of them. It’s time to join in the song.
These weeks seem to be flying by! See? It’s already time for another Intermission.
Since it’s spring, a lot of people are in workout mode. If you’re looking for a new workout, here’s some inspiration. You might want to start out slowly, maybe just play some ball …
I love the title to that one: “Someone should tell this girl that this can’t be done.” But why spoil it for her?
If ball-playing isn’t your style, you could jump rope to get your heart rate up, like this girl in Belgium.
Okay, maybe not exactly like her. Adrienn Banhegyi, the woman doing all the tricks with a jump rope, is a performer with the Cirque de Soleil and actually holds two world records for jump roping. How about doing a few flips like this guy?
Oh, wait. I think that was some kind of gravity test. (Gravity apparently failed.)
Well, I suppose we could just hang out and watch this expert on the rings.
Whatever you decide to do, have fun!
Welcome to Thursday Intermission–your break from a busy week.
I couldn’t decide between drama and relaxation this week … so we’ll do both. First up is “Pigeon: Impossible.” What happens to a secret agent when he’s faced with a problem not covered in basic training?
And, on a more relaxing note, we have “Omelette,” a story of cooking and love.
Whether your week is full of drama, relaxation or pigeons … I hope it’s a good one.
On Sunday, we sang Rend Collective Experiment’s “Build Your Kingdom Here” at church. It’s a fun song to sing, with some really good lyrics. Here it is, in case you’re not familiar with it. (And no, our worship team didn’t perform it precisely the same way as RCE did. Apparently nitpicky things like “fire codes” and “potential for bodily injury” take precedence over artistic expression and creativity at my church. It’s sad, really.)
While there are a lot of good lines in the song, what’s been resonating with me are the last lines of the final verse:
“We are Your Church,
We are the hope on earth.”
The church … is God’s representation of hope on this earth?