I know it makes me sound old, but I'm a child of the 70's -- the decade of (among other things) long hair, overalls, POW bracelets, and Maranatha Music concerts.  During morning office prayers last week, I was embarrassed when I came across some of the lyrics from an old Chuck Girard song.  They have wonderfully haunted me this past week, and so I thought I'd share them with you here:

Don't shoot the wounded, they need us more than ever
They need our love no matter what it is they've done
Sometimes we just condemn them,
And don't take time to hear their story
Don't shoot the wounded, someday you might be one
 
It's easy to love the people who are standing hard and fast
Pressing on to meet that higher calling
But the ones who might be struggling, we tend to judge too harshly
And refuse to try and catch them when they're falling
We put people into boxes and we draw our hard conclusions
And when they do the things we know they should not do
We sometimes write them off as hopeless
And we throw them to the dogs          
Our compassion and forgiveness sometimes seem in short supply...
 
 
We can love them and forgive them
When their sin does not exceed our own
For we too have been down bumpy roads before
But when they commit offenses outside the boundaries we have set
We judge them in a word and we turn them out,
And we close the door
Myself I've been forgiven for so many awful things
I've been cleansed and washed and bathed so many times
That when I see a brother who has fallen from the way
I just can't find the license to convict him of his crimes.

(from the song, Don't Shoot the Wounded, by Chuck Girard)

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I'd enjoy hearing your thoughts.
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Photo credit: © Diane Diederich, iStockphoto.com

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Here are some of the things I keep thinking about of late:

• My mother-in-law's cancer (it took a turn for the worse over Christmas).
• The candidates that I've begun interviewing for the associate pastor opening here.
• The "Minstral" harp my wife and I are learning how to play.
• Tomorrow night, we'll be observing the Epiphany at a special worship gathering.
• My upcoming trip to Acapulco, Mexico (a little R&R).
• That perhaps as many as 33% of my generation (Busters) may be postmodern in the way they view the world, etc.
• That I'd better get on the stick and post some follow up pieces on the Ancient Evangelical Future conference I attended last month.

Blessings,
Chris

I had some fun writing this and put it into our Sunday bulletin last week.  I guess I was waxing creative in a bit of a different way.

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‘Twas the Week After Christmas

‘Twas the week after Christmas, and across all the land,

Folks were still pretty busy: ev’ry woman, child, and man.

With bargains-a-plenty to be had and enjoyed,

There was money to spend, of course, work to avoid.

In the days after Christmas people often get dizzy,

With thank-you’s and cleaning, and acting oh so busy.

It seems that there’s no one who still wants to ponder

The angels, the wise men, the manger, the wonder;

Such things seem mere shadows of Christmas now past,

Its message, its meaning – weren’t they supposed to last?

With New Year now waiting with bowl games, parades

Will memories of Christmas completely now fade?

Yet faithfully, soulfully, some stop and soak

In the mystery of Christmas, unlike many folk.

For to them comes the power, the wisdom, the way;

to live "in" the meaning of Christmas each day.

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Photo credit: © Jay Mast, iStockphoto.com

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