Hey you, I'm so glad you stopped by. I’m Chris, mama to three pixies and wife to one Norse-man. Welcome to my blog. I write about living the lyrics of the cross. Lyrics of life, love, faith, and the pursuit of beauty. I hope we become dear friends. 

Stand Full Face

Stand Full Face

I sit overlooking scenic Asheville, with the Blue Ridge Mountains before me and Pisgah National Forest hemming me in behind. All of nature sings...testifies to the Creator of one whose artistry formed it all. He spoke, and it came into being. The glory of the sun peeks out behind the clouds while the mountains disappear into hues of grey, dark upon light. The oaks below are reflections of autumn colors, burgundy, gold, crimson. The golf course, flourescent green manicured perfection, boasts its own wonder. All of these aspects shout together, “This is My Father’s World.”

In the midst of this grandeur of nature, I see three small shadows moving about in the distance. I look closer and it is three men walking upon the golf course. They look so small trekking about the surrounding magnificence.

And I am lost in the wonder of why He chose to put His image in man. The mountains do not contain the imago dei, as grand as they are. The trees succulent in wonder still lack His spirit. Yet, what is man that you are mindful of Him, the son of man that you care for Him? You have set him a little lower than the angels, and set your own likeness inside Him.

We bear the image of the Almighty God. The one who created out of nihil, nothing. The heavens declare the glory of God and we who bear His likeness scoff at the resemblance.

How have we defamed this image of the Godhead inside us? Perhaps by our words, the way we degrade one another online or through gossip over the phone line. Or maybe it’s the humanization of our animals, we pay more for their doctor visits than our own. Even more, euthanasia, abortion, and murder all testify to our failure to grasp the imago dei. One only needs to look at the tragedy occurring this week in Sutherland Springs, Texas to see the defamation of the imago dei. Oh, Lord, have mercy.

In one of my favorite works by C.S. Lewis he remarks,

"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors."

There are no mere mortals. What would happen if we viewed man in light of the imago dei? How would our lives be different if we chose to become everlasting splendors, reflecting His light?

Lilias Trotter talked about man being a vessel of His light: “ ... no matter if we are only crooked little chinks, the heavenly Sun can send through us not only light, but the revelation of His Image: ‘the light of the knowledge of the Glory of God in the Face of Jesus Christ!”

We have this vessel in jars of clay, however cracked and broken we may be, light peeks forth. We are to live as children of light, reflections of His splendor. The brilliance of One Whose glory fills the whole earth.

Each morning when we wake, our lives can peek glimpses of His glory. When we make breakfast for our husband, dress our little ones before they head out the door, or invite our elderly neighbor over for a cup of coffee, we get to be little wonders. A reflection pointing upwards towards Him. 

Stretches of light stream out from behind the clouds. The heat of the sun enraptures my body with warmth. The trees make music as they gently sway in the breeze, and all of creation cries out His glory. What is man that you take notice of him? That you dwell in Him?

Let us make the most of these lives we are living. Reflections of the Sun of Righteousness who has risen in our hearts.

“ ... there is an ocean of grace and love and power lying all around us, an ocean to which all earthly light is but a drop, and it is ready to transfigure us...on the...condition---that we stand full face to God.”

May we stand full face to God and let the light of His glory transfix these jars of clay.











Where Does Your Glory Lie?

Where Does Your Glory Lie?

Untold Glories

Untold Glories