344---Blessing the space

"The older I get, the smarter my father was". The longer I live, the more I realize what challenges he faced, what sacrifices he made to give me the best shot he could afford. 

My friend David just lost his dad. David's blog post is a powerful testimony, full of gratitude. 

This morning I chatted with a father about his efforts to teach discipline to his son. "Was I too hard on him? Was I too soft?" The middle is a moving target. Is there a middle? Where is the balance point?  

I don't know what that father's heart is going through today.  I feel entirely unqualified to critique his approach. Great line from Bourne Supremacy, "don't second-guess an operation from an armchair."

I know he wanted more than anything to do what's right for his son, and I hope one day his son will know that. And I hope one day his son will tell him that he understands. 

I wonder if I'll have any children. If I'm not granted biologicals, there are still so many who need love and discipline and fatherly perspective. There is great need. Maybe I can be of service in some way. 

Visited a friend I'm re-connecting with after 15 years. She recently bought a home and asked me to come and bless it.  A first for me. I don't have the authority to bless homes. Do I? 

I have stood or sat in many spaces, guitar in hand, praying for the presence of the Holy Spirit. If I stand in this place today and simply invite the Holy Spirit there, is that the same as blessing the space?

Before entering the house, I sat on the porch and read 2nd Chronicles, chapters 6 and 7. Solomon prays a beautiful, humble prayer dedicating a space and inviting the Lord's presence. Chapter 7, second verse, the presence fills the space so full, there's no room even for priests. The power is so strong, they gotta clear out. 

I have this curiosity; it's burned a few years now--what would it take for us to be so full of the presence, that nothing else could come in?

I submit that it has something to do with 2nd Chronicles 7:14--If my people, who are called by my name...

I have more thoughts about this. And about fathers, by whose names we are called.

Goodnight, Beautiful...

Goodnight, Strender.