J. Tuttle Blog

My Beloved

Adam — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 01:53:58 +0000

“Who am I” you ask yourself

You are my beloved

As I formed you in the womb I knew you

As your lungs stretched for the first time i rejoiced

You are my beloved

When you took your first steps I cried with joy

When you commited your first sin I cried in agony

You are my beloved

I have plans for you that you cannot even fathom

My goodness will never leave your life

The gifts I long to shower you with you could not think to ask for

You are my beloved

As a lover longs for his bride even more so I desire you

As the eagle seeks its prey so I seek you

As a mother holds her child I also will hold you

You are my beloved

You cannot comprehend my love but I give anyway

You will not know the depths of my adoration but this does not discourage me

You are flawlessly, perfectly, and truly magnificently made

You are my masterpiece

You are my beloved

My Fathers Joy…

Adam — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 18:32:03 +0000

Two weeks before I married my wife the snow covered land of Northern Michigan was yet again enjoying another Christmas. It was the first Christmas that I was to spend with my new family to be. As we opened the many brightly colored gifts under the tree, new treasures were obtained with each tear of the paper. There were so many presents to open and each person in the family received more than they could have hoped for. As things started slow down, and the last of the gift’s were being distributed to members in our family, my soon to be father-in-law reached behind the tree for one last gift. It was a very large and very oddly shaped gift with bright red wrapping to encase the gift inside. Dad said “Adam, there’s one more here for you” with a smile that truly stretched ear to year. As soon as the wrapping touched my hungry little fingers I knew what it was. It was the hunting camo that I had been eye balling at the store the week before with Dad. I was trying so hard not to give away that I knew what it was before I opened it. There was so much joy on dads face when he gave it to me. In that moment we shared something beautiful. He had joy for giving me something that I could not get on my own (being that I was very poor at the time), and I had joy in receiving that gift. The joy was the common denominator for both of us.

Why do I share this experience? I’m not sure my soon to be Father-in-Law had ever gotten to give a gift like that before. Although generosity is something that runs easily though his veins, this gift was different. He has raised a family of all girls none of whom share his passion for hunting. This mutual love and passion for hunting is something that helped me and him become friends, and helped me break through the stereo typical title of son-in-law. For the first time he was able to give a gift to his child that was birthed from a real passion of his. He is by far the greatest outdoorsman I have ever met in my life, and I consider him my greatest mentor for this passion. In that moment of giving that gift we drew closer and shared in a common joy that nobody else in that room will ever quite understand. I call him Dad because that’s what he is to me, and when he gave me that gift we became a father and son who truly shared joy together.

I think this story has helped to understand a little better how God feels when he gets to give me a gift. All through scriptures there are details at how excited God his to know us, and how much joy he gets from communion with his creations. I think I have a better understanding of what God feels, looks likes, and expresses when we get a gift that we can’t get on our own. As we begin to better understand the passions that God’s heart beats for, we begin to understand the joy it brings him when we partake in this with him. When I receive a gift from heaven God is SO excited for me to open it, to receive the good things he has for me. His grin goes from ear to ear in excitement for the new gift I am about to discover.

Why do I make this so hard?

Adam — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 18:16:05 +0000

I was standing in my sister-in-laws church singing a song of worship, and as I started to raise my hands in worship I had a thought. “This is so simple”, scrolled across my brain like a banner behind an airplane. Worshiping God is meant to be simple. The act of lifting my hands brought a true sense of being close to God in that place. The muscles required, my brain sending signals via nerve endings to my muscles, and bones lifting the weight of flesh was actually very easy. Yet even in the simplicity of those few moments I was worshiping my God. Not only was I worshiping him, but he new it.

Why do we make worship so hard? Why do we so often feel that unless we are making a big deal of things God will not notice what is going on. Some of my most powerful encounters with God have been in the quiet places of my heart. Jesus would often seclude himself to those places to where it was only him and the father. In our search for truth, and our desperate longing to have the attention of God, we have to understand that we already have it.

Instead of trying to “make” God notice me through the acts of worship I do, there must me an understanding in my heart that everything I do can be worship to God. Raising my hands, dancing, singing, smiling at the cashier in the grocery store, are all acts of worship. These are my songs of worship that I create every day.

Though these thoughts are tangled and still in the process of formation, I have come up with new definition of worship for myself.

Worship: the act of giving to my savior in all that I do and say in life.

Maybe doing everything as an act of worship is NOT easy, but worship at its core is. It is simple, beautiful, and very much noticed by my Father in heaven. My life is a melody to my daddy’s ears and the question is “how does it sound?”