December 20 2010. That's when I published my first blog.
http://momstheword2.blogspot.in/2010/12/mils.html
Since then, several people have asked me what the name 'Dayenu' meant. I know it sounds strange. But I guess I was on this 'Hebrew' high. I had named my first born 'Isaac' which in Hebrew means 'laughter'.`
My first blog also shows where I was in life. Grieving possibly. And also trying to be happy since I had just found out that we had a second little one on the way. Its hard to be happy and sad at the same time. And it was during one of those up and down moments when I was asking God 'How do I praise you at this time', that I read a blog by one for the editors of the RZIM ministries
It was an email that I received called 'A Slice of Infinity' from the RZIM website
http://rzim.org/a-slice-of-infinity/
This particular article was written by Jill Carattini and the title was 'Like a Letter from Christ'. (See the entire article at the end)
An excerpt from the article
A tradition in the Jewish Passover celebration called Dayyenu marks in the Passover ritual the rising crescendo of thanksgiving. "Dayyenu," which essentially means, "It would have been enough for us," is sung as a response after merciful acts of God in history are remembered one by one—the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Sabbath, the completion of the temple. Each act alone would have been enough to sustain our praise and faith, but God moves well beyond our imaginings.
We lived in 1409 Pangbourne way at this time and had lovely Jewish neighbors who invited us every Sabbath (i.e. every Friday night) for their special dinner. We had once gone over when they were lighting the candles and the two little girls they had, Yuvali and Rony, wanted Isaac to light the candles with them. Their mother had to plead that only girls lit the candles and Isaac was a boy. She never once said he is not Jewish and therefore cannot light the candles.
In a strange country, on a quiet street, in a room full of lovely food, stood two families from two different countries and yet united by one Good God. Sometimes you meet fantastic people and they change your perspective of life!
I looked up the song Dayenu after one such Sabbath meal with this family and fell in love with the word.
I realized that this blog would be both good memories and sad memories. But in all of it 'Dayenu' - It was enough! Each act whether Good or Sad was enough for me to praise and keep my faith in God.
I recently read a meditation about 'Happiness'. Happiness was part of a 3 fold program. Joy, Gratitude, Prayer.
Dayenu is a reminder of all that I have to be grateful for, all I pray for and all I am joyful for!
Like a Letter from Christ
The question is asked with both biting sarcasm and pained lament: Why isn't God clearer? Why the complicated hunt for answers? Why not a God with far more interest in direct communication? Such questions are perhaps further disquieted by those who seem to claim precisely that experience—hearing God as surely as in a letter, as directly as any other conversation.
It used to bother me that I couldn't give an exact date for my conversion. I can't describe the moment when I finally bowed and admitted God was God. This troubled me particularly when it was my turn to speak after going around a room of believers with specific dates and encounters to tell—and the expectation that I could tell likewise. I've since learned that conversion is more than one moment of waking—even for those who indeed have one moment that stands out among all others. But I've also come to love the diversity of means and ways God appears before a life—gently beckoning one to follow, pursuing over a lifetime the one lost or running, dramatically opening the eyes of another in an instant.
Could this broadened picture itself not be something like direct communication from God? The apostle Paul describes the converted one "like a letter from Christ... written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts" (2 Corinthians 3:2). In this description, we discover conversion is inherently personal—a letter from creator to creature, written not in ink but in God, not on paper or tablet, but on living flesh. Accordingly, there are as many stories of God drawing near a life as there are words one could put in a personal letter. Like Paul, I have come to expect and to admire the compilation. Some will speak of waking to God's truth gradually; others will describe being moved nearly to blindness as they encounter Christ more fully than they have eyes yet to see.
But like the God we discover, conversion stories can still surprise us. I met someone recently who told me that pivotal to his waking to faith was a profound desire to give. He said he simply found himself thankful and wanted to know the somewhere and someone before he could act out his appreciation. There was something in this confession that made me marvel at the God we both profess, as if I was shown another facet to appreciate, another layer I hadn't fully considered. Not only is there someone to thank, but there is one who moves within our desire to give and our deep realization that much has been given.
Moreover, when we learn to see conversions as reflections of God, letters that come to us personally and communicate something of Christ, we also learn there is something of God to behold in our neighbor. Standing within a community of believers, it is hard not to marvel at the unsearchable riches of Christ, the depths of the person of God written on hearts all around us. What other god comes so personally, meeting the world as individuals, moving followers into a community that reflects more and more of him? Gratitude is a natural response.
A tradition in the Jewish Passover celebration called Dayyenu marks in the Passover ritual the rising crescendo of thanksgiving. "Dayyenu," which essentially means, "It would have been enough for us," is sung as a response after merciful acts of God in history are remembered one by one—the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Sabbath, the completion of the temple. Each act alone would have been enough to sustain our praise and faith, but God moves well beyond our imaginings.
God is indeed gracious in ways we never anticipate, meeting one profoundly in his desire to give, another in her profound suffering, coming to all in the sending of the Son and the manifestations of his life, death, and resurrection. It would have been enough to sustain our praise in the Incarnation of the Christ child or in the ministry and miracles of Jesus—"The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor" (Luke 7:22). But God wanted to bring more. "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17). And that Son was sent to the Cross, where he was crucified, died, and buried. This too would have been enough to elicit our gratitude—an innocent sufferer, God hanging with us on the gallows. But then Christ rose from the grave, defeating death, and inviting us to follow and do the same.
God is always moving beyond our imaginings. As we live further into our conversions, as we tell the stories of God's acts in our lives and in history, as we remember again the unfathomable mercies of Christ, might our gratitude be heard across the land, a rising crescendo of thanksgiving for the one who is worthy of our praise.
Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
http://momstheword2.blogspot.in/2010/12/mils.html
Since then, several people have asked me what the name 'Dayenu' meant. I know it sounds strange. But I guess I was on this 'Hebrew' high. I had named my first born 'Isaac' which in Hebrew means 'laughter'.`
My first blog also shows where I was in life. Grieving possibly. And also trying to be happy since I had just found out that we had a second little one on the way. Its hard to be happy and sad at the same time. And it was during one of those up and down moments when I was asking God 'How do I praise you at this time', that I read a blog by one for the editors of the RZIM ministries
It was an email that I received called 'A Slice of Infinity' from the RZIM website
http://rzim.org/a-slice-of-infinity/
This particular article was written by Jill Carattini and the title was 'Like a Letter from Christ'. (See the entire article at the end)
An excerpt from the article
A tradition in the Jewish Passover celebration called Dayyenu marks in the Passover ritual the rising crescendo of thanksgiving. "Dayyenu," which essentially means, "It would have been enough for us," is sung as a response after merciful acts of God in history are remembered one by one—the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Sabbath, the completion of the temple. Each act alone would have been enough to sustain our praise and faith, but God moves well beyond our imaginings.
 |
| Pagbourne way with Ziva, Roni and Yuvali |
In a strange country, on a quiet street, in a room full of lovely food, stood two families from two different countries and yet united by one Good God. Sometimes you meet fantastic people and they change your perspective of life!
 |
| Pangbourne way with Bhageera, Isaac, Roni and Yuvali |
I realized that this blog would be both good memories and sad memories. But in all of it 'Dayenu' - It was enough! Each act whether Good or Sad was enough for me to praise and keep my faith in God.
I recently read a meditation about 'Happiness'. Happiness was part of a 3 fold program. Joy, Gratitude, Prayer.
Dayenu is a reminder of all that I have to be grateful for, all I pray for and all I am joyful for!
Like a Letter from Christ
The question is asked with both biting sarcasm and pained lament: Why isn't God clearer? Why the complicated hunt for answers? Why not a God with far more interest in direct communication? Such questions are perhaps further disquieted by those who seem to claim precisely that experience—hearing God as surely as in a letter, as directly as any other conversation.
It used to bother me that I couldn't give an exact date for my conversion. I can't describe the moment when I finally bowed and admitted God was God. This troubled me particularly when it was my turn to speak after going around a room of believers with specific dates and encounters to tell—and the expectation that I could tell likewise. I've since learned that conversion is more than one moment of waking—even for those who indeed have one moment that stands out among all others. But I've also come to love the diversity of means and ways God appears before a life—gently beckoning one to follow, pursuing over a lifetime the one lost or running, dramatically opening the eyes of another in an instant.
Could this broadened picture itself not be something like direct communication from God? The apostle Paul describes the converted one "like a letter from Christ... written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts" (2 Corinthians 3:2). In this description, we discover conversion is inherently personal—a letter from creator to creature, written not in ink but in God, not on paper or tablet, but on living flesh. Accordingly, there are as many stories of God drawing near a life as there are words one could put in a personal letter. Like Paul, I have come to expect and to admire the compilation. Some will speak of waking to God's truth gradually; others will describe being moved nearly to blindness as they encounter Christ more fully than they have eyes yet to see.
But like the God we discover, conversion stories can still surprise us. I met someone recently who told me that pivotal to his waking to faith was a profound desire to give. He said he simply found himself thankful and wanted to know the somewhere and someone before he could act out his appreciation. There was something in this confession that made me marvel at the God we both profess, as if I was shown another facet to appreciate, another layer I hadn't fully considered. Not only is there someone to thank, but there is one who moves within our desire to give and our deep realization that much has been given.
Moreover, when we learn to see conversions as reflections of God, letters that come to us personally and communicate something of Christ, we also learn there is something of God to behold in our neighbor. Standing within a community of believers, it is hard not to marvel at the unsearchable riches of Christ, the depths of the person of God written on hearts all around us. What other god comes so personally, meeting the world as individuals, moving followers into a community that reflects more and more of him? Gratitude is a natural response.
A tradition in the Jewish Passover celebration called Dayyenu marks in the Passover ritual the rising crescendo of thanksgiving. "Dayyenu," which essentially means, "It would have been enough for us," is sung as a response after merciful acts of God in history are remembered one by one—the parting of the Red Sea, the giving of the Sabbath, the completion of the temple. Each act alone would have been enough to sustain our praise and faith, but God moves well beyond our imaginings.
God is indeed gracious in ways we never anticipate, meeting one profoundly in his desire to give, another in her profound suffering, coming to all in the sending of the Son and the manifestations of his life, death, and resurrection. It would have been enough to sustain our praise in the Incarnation of the Christ child or in the ministry and miracles of Jesus—"The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor" (Luke 7:22). But God wanted to bring more. "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17). And that Son was sent to the Cross, where he was crucified, died, and buried. This too would have been enough to elicit our gratitude—an innocent sufferer, God hanging with us on the gallows. But then Christ rose from the grave, defeating death, and inviting us to follow and do the same.
God is always moving beyond our imaginings. As we live further into our conversions, as we tell the stories of God's acts in our lives and in history, as we remember again the unfathomable mercies of Christ, might our gratitude be heard across the land, a rising crescendo of thanksgiving for the one who is worthy of our praise.
Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
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