Here's some more:
Tara walked into the kitchen and picked up the battered coffee pot. It was half-full of lukewarm liquid, so she poured herself a cup. Adding half an inch of cream, she stepped into the living room. Her grandmother sat in an old rocking chair pulled close to the fire. The chair squeaked every time she moved, but that didn't seem to bother her. Tara came and stood next to her, sipping the tepid brew.
"Well, honey, did you find what you're looking for?" Grandma Thoreau asked quietly.
"What do you mean?" Tara asked.
"You're looking for something, dear, or else you wouldn'a come."
"No, I'm not looking for something. I'm trying to escape it."
"What? Heartbreak?" Grandma Thoreau laughed softly. "Honey, you can't escape heartbreak. No matter how far you run, you'll always carry it with you. You know why? Because it's somethin' inside you. It's not something you can take off like a shirt. Before you can escape it, you've gotta change inside."
"How does that work?"
"I don't know how to explain it, because it's a subtle change. It's not something you just go out and do. It takes time and maybe a little more heartbreak before the pain goes away."
Grandma Thoreau closed her eyes and sat back. The rocking chair creaked on, leaving Tara wrapped in her own thoughts.
That's all for now.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Here is some more nonsense:
Tara climbed down the creaking, worm-eaten stairs. These stairs had been here for as long as she could remember. She used to run up and down them as a little girl, heedless of the warnings her mother would give about rotting wood and nasty falls. As a child, she felt invincible. Nothing could touch her; nothing ever would. Then she grew up and found out that fairy tales were merely glorified day-dreams, real life was hard, and people hurt each other without a second thought. Cheating, lying, back-stabbing; these were the things people did best. If someone asked her what the best part about being human was, she would say, "I don't know. I've been looking for 22 years and all I've seen is pain." Was that all that humans were capable of? Was that the reason for which they were created, to crush and destroy all that was good in the world?
Tara knew that that could not be the only reason, but she could not think of anything else. Sure, you had your food pantries and Salvation Armies. Some people tried to do good towards others, but in the end it was themselves they worshiped. People could be nice for a time, that is, until they stopped gaining from it. When the good things ran dry, they would ultimately turn their backs on you and look for someone else.
Shaking the bitter thoughts out of her head, Tara crossed the living room with its centuries-old fireplace, and stepped outside onto the rickety porch. No one really kept this place up anymore. The wind and the rain had done their damage, she could tell. What was once gleaming white paint was now battered and smudged with dirt. Just like our lives, she thought bitterly. We try so hard to be gleaming white, but in the end we find ourselves covered in dirt.
So, I wrote it and I'll probably regret posting it after the fact. It is very short and rather rambly, probably due to the fact that I wrote it in fifteen minutes. Please let me know what you think of it. As always, I am more than happy for any and all critiques and insights you may have on this piece.
Tara climbed down the creaking, worm-eaten stairs. These stairs had been here for as long as she could remember. She used to run up and down them as a little girl, heedless of the warnings her mother would give about rotting wood and nasty falls. As a child, she felt invincible. Nothing could touch her; nothing ever would. Then she grew up and found out that fairy tales were merely glorified day-dreams, real life was hard, and people hurt each other without a second thought. Cheating, lying, back-stabbing; these were the things people did best. If someone asked her what the best part about being human was, she would say, "I don't know. I've been looking for 22 years and all I've seen is pain." Was that all that humans were capable of? Was that the reason for which they were created, to crush and destroy all that was good in the world?
Tara knew that that could not be the only reason, but she could not think of anything else. Sure, you had your food pantries and Salvation Armies. Some people tried to do good towards others, but in the end it was themselves they worshiped. People could be nice for a time, that is, until they stopped gaining from it. When the good things ran dry, they would ultimately turn their backs on you and look for someone else.
Shaking the bitter thoughts out of her head, Tara crossed the living room with its centuries-old fireplace, and stepped outside onto the rickety porch. No one really kept this place up anymore. The wind and the rain had done their damage, she could tell. What was once gleaming white paint was now battered and smudged with dirt. Just like our lives, she thought bitterly. We try so hard to be gleaming white, but in the end we find ourselves covered in dirt.
So, I wrote it and I'll probably regret posting it after the fact. It is very short and rather rambly, probably due to the fact that I wrote it in fifteen minutes. Please let me know what you think of it. As always, I am more than happy for any and all critiques and insights you may have on this piece.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Last night I drove home in the midst of a lightning storm. No rain, and very little thunder, but the sky was a heavy mantel of black. White lightning streaked across the sky, renting the fabric in a thousand places.
It is hard to watch in awe while trying to keep one's car out of the ditch, but it inspired a bit of rather rubbish fiction:
Tara sat on the trundle bed. The copper frame groaned under her weight. She looked around at layers of dust that hid ancient treasures. The trundle bed belonged to her great-grandmother, as did the house whose attic she was sitting in. Tucked into the corners of this room were bits and pieces of her life. Like the attic, her past was hidden in dust; she liked it that way and had every intention of keeping it so.
Her curiosity got the better of her, and she stood up and crossed over to the opposite side of the room. Kneeling, she ran her hand over a small, wooden cradle. She had slept in this when she was a baby, as did her mother, and her grandmother, and her great-grandmother before her. It had watched her family grow old, and the next generation rise up and take their place. This cradle was the greatest link she had to her past. Funny how she had no memory of lying in it.
A mannequin stood in the corner by the door, like a silent watchman over her memories. A faded, yellowed dress hung limply from its stuffed body, and a tattered veil draped over the faceless head. Faceless, like so many of her family. They were a bunch of names without faces - dead. Nothing could make them live again, not even her memories.
Her mother had walked down the aisle in that dress, her face beaming with joy as she dreamed of the wonderful future in store for her. But life wasn't made out of roses; it came with thorns that tore at your fingertips and made you bleed. Tara had watched her mother bleed to death as life heaped sorrow upon sorrow and turned her dreams to dust.
Tara turned away from that painful memory. She hadn't traveled 800 miles to feel the pain she felt every day. She'd come to lose herself. Perhaps then she would find herself.
So, that is it for now. I will add more as I feel inspired. I'm already toying with ideas, so we'll have to see where this goes.
I'd appreciate your input also, so if you want to ask questions, make a point, or tell me everything that is wrong with this story, feel free to comment.
It is hard to watch in awe while trying to keep one's car out of the ditch, but it inspired a bit of rather rubbish fiction:
Tara sat on the trundle bed. The copper frame groaned under her weight. She looked around at layers of dust that hid ancient treasures. The trundle bed belonged to her great-grandmother, as did the house whose attic she was sitting in. Tucked into the corners of this room were bits and pieces of her life. Like the attic, her past was hidden in dust; she liked it that way and had every intention of keeping it so.
Her curiosity got the better of her, and she stood up and crossed over to the opposite side of the room. Kneeling, she ran her hand over a small, wooden cradle. She had slept in this when she was a baby, as did her mother, and her grandmother, and her great-grandmother before her. It had watched her family grow old, and the next generation rise up and take their place. This cradle was the greatest link she had to her past. Funny how she had no memory of lying in it.
A mannequin stood in the corner by the door, like a silent watchman over her memories. A faded, yellowed dress hung limply from its stuffed body, and a tattered veil draped over the faceless head. Faceless, like so many of her family. They were a bunch of names without faces - dead. Nothing could make them live again, not even her memories.
Her mother had walked down the aisle in that dress, her face beaming with joy as she dreamed of the wonderful future in store for her. But life wasn't made out of roses; it came with thorns that tore at your fingertips and made you bleed. Tara had watched her mother bleed to death as life heaped sorrow upon sorrow and turned her dreams to dust.
Tara turned away from that painful memory. She hadn't traveled 800 miles to feel the pain she felt every day. She'd come to lose herself. Perhaps then she would find herself.
So, that is it for now. I will add more as I feel inspired. I'm already toying with ideas, so we'll have to see where this goes.
I'd appreciate your input also, so if you want to ask questions, make a point, or tell me everything that is wrong with this story, feel free to comment.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Sunshine and Shadow
Wherever one sees the sunshine he is bound to see shadows. Unless one is staring directly at the sun, which is all but impossible to do, he cannot see the sunshine without shadows. It might be his shadow, or the shadow of something else, but wherever the light shines the shadows appear. In Romans 7 Paul talks about the Law. He says, "What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. For I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, "You shall not covet." But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. For apart from the law, sin lies dead. I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good."
The Law is like sunshine; it is something wonderful, beautiful, and perfect. Yet this same thing reveals sin. Like the shadow, sin only becomes apparent when the Law shines upon it. No one sees a shadow when it is dark. They see the shadow when the light reveals it.
Does this make the Law wrong? Does this mean that we avoid the law because it reveals our sin? No, it does not, and for this reason: Without sin, there would be no need for Christ. Without knowledge of sin, man does not see his need of Christ. The Law is key in that it reveals to man his sin and thereby drives him to Christ. We need the Law, for without the Law we would be ignorant of our sinfulness.
The Law is a picture of Christ. Think about it: Christ is the Author of the Law. He kept it perfectly during His time on earth. The Law serves to show His perfect holiness in comparison to our stark depravity. This may seem distasteful to some, because such a Law makes us look bad. But that's the whole point! If we could look half so good as Christ perhaps we would have a chance of saving ourselves. It is because we are so horrible that we are in need of His grace.
The Law is like sunshine; it is something wonderful, beautiful, and perfect. Yet this same thing reveals sin. Like the shadow, sin only becomes apparent when the Law shines upon it. No one sees a shadow when it is dark. They see the shadow when the light reveals it.
Does this make the Law wrong? Does this mean that we avoid the law because it reveals our sin? No, it does not, and for this reason: Without sin, there would be no need for Christ. Without knowledge of sin, man does not see his need of Christ. The Law is key in that it reveals to man his sin and thereby drives him to Christ. We need the Law, for without the Law we would be ignorant of our sinfulness.
The Law is a picture of Christ. Think about it: Christ is the Author of the Law. He kept it perfectly during His time on earth. The Law serves to show His perfect holiness in comparison to our stark depravity. This may seem distasteful to some, because such a Law makes us look bad. But that's the whole point! If we could look half so good as Christ perhaps we would have a chance of saving ourselves. It is because we are so horrible that we are in need of His grace.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
A random bit of nothing:
We've got some remarkable flowers around where we live. One of them has a dark center, with deep crimson petals dyed gold at the tips. It is such a good flower to sit and contemplate. It reminds one of memories. When one first experiences something, it is rich and dark. As time passes, he begins to forget the specific details, but remembers much of the general ones. The memories soon become nothing more than a shining bit of gold that gives light to the rest of the mind.
Thus ends my random bit of nothing.
Thus ends my random bit of nothing.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
As I am in a contemplative mood:
First, I did not begin this post with an idea of what I'm going to write. I think that the most profound things come from random scribbles. Since I love profundity (and I love that word) I will endeavor to scribble something out.
Of course, I can't promise anything good will come of this post, except maybe an excuse for you to waste thirty seconds of your life. But then, I can't promise I won't die within the next ten minutes either. One really can't go through life completely sure of himself or he will be woefully disappointed. Nothing ever goes exactly as we wish, and there's really nothing we can do about that except sit back, enjoy the ride, and keep what things we can under control.
That last sentence might cause some confusion so let me explain:
There are some things I can control - whether I eat breakfast or don't eat breakfast, whether I wear a green shirt or an orange one. There are other things I cannot control - whether the car in the other lane will or won't hit me, whether or not a bus runs over me, whether or not my house gets struck by lightning. I control my personal choices, but I don't control the choice another person has of stabbing me or not. He controls that choice, and I really can't stop him from wielding the knife if he wants to. There are some precautions I can take, such as make sure I wear my seat belt, when involving myself in these "risky" endeavors over which I have no control.
In the end it all boils down to God's choices. If he wishes to end my life within the next ten minutes or in the next ten years, it is up to Him. My choice is whether or not I'll be prepared for it. That doesn't mean I walk around in constant terror and depression because I might die. It means I live day to day as if it were the last day of my life. I strengthen my relationship with God and with my family, because I might not have the chance to tomorrow.
And I wonder how many of us really think about that. Are we constantly aware of how short our lives are, or do we live in constant denial of the fact that one day our lives on this earth will end?
We shouldn't mourn the fact that we die, because death isn't the end. We shouldn't cling on to worldly things either - family, possessions - because these will pass away too. It doesn't mean we don't cherish our family and friends, but it means we cherish God more.
That is my rambling bit for the day. It is probably devoid of all profundity, but that doesn't really matter. Profundity is pretty subjective anyways.
First, I did not begin this post with an idea of what I'm going to write. I think that the most profound things come from random scribbles. Since I love profundity (and I love that word) I will endeavor to scribble something out.
Of course, I can't promise anything good will come of this post, except maybe an excuse for you to waste thirty seconds of your life. But then, I can't promise I won't die within the next ten minutes either. One really can't go through life completely sure of himself or he will be woefully disappointed. Nothing ever goes exactly as we wish, and there's really nothing we can do about that except sit back, enjoy the ride, and keep what things we can under control.
That last sentence might cause some confusion so let me explain:
There are some things I can control - whether I eat breakfast or don't eat breakfast, whether I wear a green shirt or an orange one. There are other things I cannot control - whether the car in the other lane will or won't hit me, whether or not a bus runs over me, whether or not my house gets struck by lightning. I control my personal choices, but I don't control the choice another person has of stabbing me or not. He controls that choice, and I really can't stop him from wielding the knife if he wants to. There are some precautions I can take, such as make sure I wear my seat belt, when involving myself in these "risky" endeavors over which I have no control.
In the end it all boils down to God's choices. If he wishes to end my life within the next ten minutes or in the next ten years, it is up to Him. My choice is whether or not I'll be prepared for it. That doesn't mean I walk around in constant terror and depression because I might die. It means I live day to day as if it were the last day of my life. I strengthen my relationship with God and with my family, because I might not have the chance to tomorrow.
And I wonder how many of us really think about that. Are we constantly aware of how short our lives are, or do we live in constant denial of the fact that one day our lives on this earth will end?
We shouldn't mourn the fact that we die, because death isn't the end. We shouldn't cling on to worldly things either - family, possessions - because these will pass away too. It doesn't mean we don't cherish our family and friends, but it means we cherish God more.
That is my rambling bit for the day. It is probably devoid of all profundity, but that doesn't really matter. Profundity is pretty subjective anyways.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
I have wasted too much energy apologizing, and I refuse to do so again today. Instead I will sit and expound on the great relief finishing several intense classes has given me. They are over and done with, and although I miss the people I have met while taking them, I do not miss the assignments. Classes have a bittersweet taste when they end. You are glad to have no more work, but you are not glad to say good-bye to the people you met there. Although they do not disappear from your life - you still keep in touch - there no longer is that camaraderie you shared in meeting the challenges of the class. It was a common ground both of you shared, and it is no more.
I do not know if I am disappointed or relieved. It might be that I feel a confusing mixture of both. Either way, I have finished, and I ended very satisfactorily.
I do not know if I am disappointed or relieved. It might be that I feel a confusing mixture of both. Either way, I have finished, and I ended very satisfactorily.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
No, I Have Not Died
I am just very inconsistent with my posts. I do not follow any sort of pattern or schedule. I write what I want when I want to. That's the freedom of this blog. I can write what I think I'd enjoy reading again and what I think you'll enjoy reading (though I'm worse at predicting that). I don't want this blog to be all doom and gloom and destruction. I'm not doom, gloom, or destruction, so it'd be a bit off character for me to write something like that. So, here I am, rambling on as I always do, and not making a lick of sense. Ah well, it really doesn't matter two cents what I say. What really matters is what God thinks. I see no place in the Bible where it says you must post certain things on a blog. Blogs, in the modern sense, were not invented yet. While there are certain things I believe the Bible does address, I know it does not tell me I cannot have a random blog post every once in a while. This is a random blog post. It has no purpose, no point - nothing that it is trying to achieve, save giving you a very good look at my strange and slightly hilarious side.
That being said, I will proceed to write a ten-page post on transcendentalism.
Kidding. I will do nothing of the kind. I do not care for transcendentalists (not to mention the word is a mouthful to say), and I do not care to talk about their doctrines. There is one thing I've learned about addressing different religions: One must be very careful not to buy into whatever they're selling. Usually all it leads to is discontentment and frustration, because it requires you to reach a certain height of perfection. When it's not leading you to be discontent and frustrated, it's telling you that you can be lawless. Transcendentalism is one of those that tell you it's ok to be lawless. I won't go into why or how, for it would take ten pages and would amount to nothing more than a tirade. If you want to know what transcendentalists are (I agree, the word is nice and big), look it up in a dictionary.
It is time for me to end this perfect example of complete randomness. I hoped you enjoyed this journey into the labyrinths of my mind.
That being said, I will proceed to write a ten-page post on transcendentalism.
Kidding. I will do nothing of the kind. I do not care for transcendentalists (not to mention the word is a mouthful to say), and I do not care to talk about their doctrines. There is one thing I've learned about addressing different religions: One must be very careful not to buy into whatever they're selling. Usually all it leads to is discontentment and frustration, because it requires you to reach a certain height of perfection. When it's not leading you to be discontent and frustrated, it's telling you that you can be lawless. Transcendentalism is one of those that tell you it's ok to be lawless. I won't go into why or how, for it would take ten pages and would amount to nothing more than a tirade. If you want to know what transcendentalists are (I agree, the word is nice and big), look it up in a dictionary.
It is time for me to end this perfect example of complete randomness. I hoped you enjoyed this journey into the labyrinths of my mind.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
"It is by beholding the glory of Christ by faith that we are spiritually edified and built up in this world, for as we behold His glory, the life and power of faith grow strong and stronger. It is by faith that we grow to love Christ. So if we desire strong faith and powerful love, which give us rest, peace and satisfaction, we must seek them by diligently beholding the glory of Christ by faith. In this duty I desire to live and die. On Christ's glory I would forever fix all my thoughts and desires, and the more I see of the glory of Christ, the more the painted beauties of the world will wither in my eyes and I will be more and more crucified to this world. It will become to me like something dead and putrid, impossible for me to enjoy."
-John Owen
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Running With the World
It's so easy for me to get caught up in the immediate present. When there is a demand, I must do it then and there, and I do not think about what is really important. The result is that I find myself going at top speed through life when all I really want to do is sit back and enjoy what God has given me.
I mean, think about it: Who today has the time to sit and watch the sun set? Who goes for walks in search of wild flowers? Who gets down on their hands and knees to examine a frog? I mean, besides me? People today just "don't have the time." Should we, as Christians, have the same outlook on life? The straight answer: No.
There are several reasons why I think people today take life at so fast a pace. First, they're afraid of death. Death is fearful to them, because after they die everything stops. They won't exist anymore. So they have to pack everything into their lives right now so that when they die they can look back and say that they lived a good, full life. Second, they don't want to think about the big questions, like where they're going after they die. Or how futile their life is. How empty they feel. It's a lot easier filling one's mind with the daily routine, what one must do next. No one wants to sit and think because they're afraid of where their thoughts will lead. It's understandable when you remember how empty their lives really are. They have no hope as we do. Their lives consist only of despair.
Why are Christians tempted to live the same way? This is a bit harder to answer. Why do we live like this? I am guilty of this, probably more so than a lot of people. Sometimes even I do not understand why I live this way. There really is no reason to fill myself up on empty promises and success, but that does not keep me from doing it. In the end I just find myself missing the things that matter, and feeling discontent with the empty, fast-paced life I've set up for myself. I do not think we need to spend too much time wondering why we do it. The world sells it's products well. What we need to spend time doing is fixing it - fixing our minds to remember that our time on this earth should be spent in such a way that glorifies God and not ourselves; in such a way that puts what is important - the study of His Word, our relationship with others, etc. - first, and let everything else follow. Our work should not be the highest priority for us. His work must. We must live everyday with the question, "Does this glorify God?" forever in our minds.
I mean, think about it: Who today has the time to sit and watch the sun set? Who goes for walks in search of wild flowers? Who gets down on their hands and knees to examine a frog? I mean, besides me? People today just "don't have the time." Should we, as Christians, have the same outlook on life? The straight answer: No.
There are several reasons why I think people today take life at so fast a pace. First, they're afraid of death. Death is fearful to them, because after they die everything stops. They won't exist anymore. So they have to pack everything into their lives right now so that when they die they can look back and say that they lived a good, full life. Second, they don't want to think about the big questions, like where they're going after they die. Or how futile their life is. How empty they feel. It's a lot easier filling one's mind with the daily routine, what one must do next. No one wants to sit and think because they're afraid of where their thoughts will lead. It's understandable when you remember how empty their lives really are. They have no hope as we do. Their lives consist only of despair.
Why are Christians tempted to live the same way? This is a bit harder to answer. Why do we live like this? I am guilty of this, probably more so than a lot of people. Sometimes even I do not understand why I live this way. There really is no reason to fill myself up on empty promises and success, but that does not keep me from doing it. In the end I just find myself missing the things that matter, and feeling discontent with the empty, fast-paced life I've set up for myself. I do not think we need to spend too much time wondering why we do it. The world sells it's products well. What we need to spend time doing is fixing it - fixing our minds to remember that our time on this earth should be spent in such a way that glorifies God and not ourselves; in such a way that puts what is important - the study of His Word, our relationship with others, etc. - first, and let everything else follow. Our work should not be the highest priority for us. His work must. We must live everyday with the question, "Does this glorify God?" forever in our minds.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Passage of the Day, Month, Year, Lifetime
I wanted to put a verse up that has touched my heart and continues to do so. It has been about two years since I first stumbled upon it, but I keep coming back to it. It continues to speak to me even after all this time. It will probably continue to do so for the rest of my life (hence the title).
"Come, and let us return to the LORD; For He has torn, but He will heal us; He has stricken, but He will bind us up. After two days He will revive us; On the third day He will raise us up, that we may live in HIs sight." - Hosea 6:1-2
"Come, and let us return to the LORD; For He has torn, but He will heal us; He has stricken, but He will bind us up. After two days He will revive us; On the third day He will raise us up, that we may live in HIs sight." - Hosea 6:1-2
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Christ, the Sustainer
"Let me do it." "I can do it myself!" Little children say phrases like these very often. We chuckle at their want of independence at a very dependent age. Christians are often like that. Especially "old" Christians - the ones who have believed the scriptures all their life, gone to church, and read the Bible over and over again. You get caught up in what you are doing and so lose sight of what Christ is doing. We want to fling our actions back in God's face and say, "See? I'm righteous! I did it, and I did it without your help. I've become independent!" In reality we're quite the opposite. As sinners we cannot hope to ever become independent. To say we are is to contradict all that the Bible says about us and our nature. If we could somehow make ourselves look good in the eyes of God, if we could fix all of our sins and brokenness, why do we need Christ? If we can somehow make it right, why did He die? It twists the gospel to say that we can somehow save ourselves through our works.
All we need to do is look at the world to see that this is not the case. We see our failures played out in our lives so vividly it hurts. Our sin pushes itself to the forefront of our minds as we watch ourselves hurt our siblings and friends, dishonor our parents, shirk our duties. People are not perfect. They can never attain perfection by themselves. If they could they would not need Christ. Adam would not have succumbed to temptation. Jesus Christ would not have to have died.
He did die. He needed to die, because we are wretchedly sinful beings. We fail every day. We look at our lives and are filled with despair because we cannot do it alone. We feel inadequate, full of despair, because we cannot fix it. We feel useless. That is right where we need to be in order to receive the gospel. The Bible isn't about us - if anything it shows us our failings - it is about Christ. It is through His work and sacrifice that we do anything right.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Ye Ould Wilde Garlick
I went for a walk today in search of some indian paintbrush. This flower is a quite beautiful red color, and I fancied a little to brighten my desk. Unfortunately, they have all gone into hiding and I could find none. As I was walking I came upon several small patches of small, white, star-shaped flowers. They're commonly known as wild garlic, but unless you crush the stems they smell nothing like garlic. They were everywhere, even where the road-construction crew had torn up the side of the road. I wondered at how fast these little flowers sprang up. They provided simple beauty to the landscape, and they smelled heavenly (when the stems aren't crushed). These sturdy flowers weren't there the year before, but over the course of the past twelve months they've taken over the neighborhood. It reminded me of the gospel. When we're first open to it, it doesn't seem very big. It wriggles into our hearts and minds in a very small way. We begin to change the way we live and act, but nothing drastic. As the years go by, however, it continues to multiply and grow inside us. Our beings are filled with the wonder of it, and before long it has taken over our minds and souls, our lifestyles and tastes.
I am speaking primarily of those who grow up with the gospel. They hear it every day, and it is always there in the backs of their minds growing steadily larger, until one day they see for the first time just how big it is - how much it has really taken over them. I am quite aware that there are those who do not grow up in the church and whose confrontation with the gospel is big and dramatic - Luther, for instance.
My life, however, very much reflects the flower illustration. It has taken me seventeen years to finally look around and see just how much of an impact the gospel really has on my life - how much it has really changed how I think, what I like, what I wear. They are all very tiny things - mere drops of water in a bucket - but I have learned, as Zechariah did, not to despise the day of small things. It is through small things that God does His most glorious work. It is through the fools, the weak, the poor, the inadequate, that His power shines through. For, as Paul says, "when I am weak, then I am strong."
I am speaking primarily of those who grow up with the gospel. They hear it every day, and it is always there in the backs of their minds growing steadily larger, until one day they see for the first time just how big it is - how much it has really taken over them. I am quite aware that there are those who do not grow up in the church and whose confrontation with the gospel is big and dramatic - Luther, for instance.
My life, however, very much reflects the flower illustration. It has taken me seventeen years to finally look around and see just how much of an impact the gospel really has on my life - how much it has really changed how I think, what I like, what I wear. They are all very tiny things - mere drops of water in a bucket - but I have learned, as Zechariah did, not to despise the day of small things. It is through small things that God does His most glorious work. It is through the fools, the weak, the poor, the inadequate, that His power shines through. For, as Paul says, "when I am weak, then I am strong."
Thursday, April 8, 2010
New Year, New Post
I know - before you begin scolding me- I'm terrible at maintaining this blog. My apologizing, though, must be even more irritating than my blog, so I will refrain from apologizing again should I wait a good six months before updating it again.
Since I am already four months into the new year, my title seems a bit obsolete. Titles seldom tell what actually happens in a story, though, and mine is no exception. I have learned quite a bit over these four months. It often happens that, when one learns new things, he must continue relearning them for a good while afterwards in order to keep them in mind. So, although I say I have learned a lot, I am still in the process of learning them still.
I have learned to say good-bye. No, not in the way most people think of it. It includes actual farewells to people, but that is not the only thing. I am learning to say good-bye to old habits and ancient sins. I have learned to part with people. It is painful; it hurts. Sometimes you feel like your heart is about to rip out by the seams, but you can do it. Your heart doesn't break and you're still standing on your feet in the end, even with all the pain that's rushing around inside you. I am not saying that I relish the idea of saying farewell again, but I am saying that I have, and I have learned the pain that comes of doing it.
As to saying farewell to old habits and sins - well, I'm still in the process of figuring that one out. God promises, though, that He will cleanse His people, and He will. That's what sanctification is all about. He never promised it would be easy. More times than not, I find myself failing. Those are the times when I must remind myself that it is the Holy Spirit that sanctifies. I do not. I cannot. God can, and He will.
This leads to another lesson I have learned: Never to trust in my own strength. This one is tough. A lot of times we pretend that we don't when really we do. We'd like to think we're trusting God. Phrases such as "God-willing," "If God wants to," and the like pass our lips when in our hearts we don't really mean it. In reality we mean, "God better want it because I want it." Then we accuse Him of being unfair when He changes our plans, when all along it was we who had strayed from His will.
Another lesson I have learned is to never doubt God's work in my life. My life is so easy and cushioned that He doesn't work in obvious ways, but He works in little ways, and those ways are just as awe-inspiring as the obvious ones. What do I mean by little ways? I mean having my sister say something to me and then reading it in my devotions the very next day. I mean being tired and worn out when taking a test and still passing it in the end. I mean the energy He gives so that I can complete just one more labor of love for my family. I mean the strength He gives me to press on even when I feel angry, worthless, and inadequate. There is nothing little about grace. There is only the way we see it. Do we see God's grace as something small and insignificant? Or is it something great and glorious that we cannot get enough of?
That is what I've learned over the past month, year, lifetime. I'm a rather poor student, but God is a most patient and longsuffering teacher.
Since I am already four months into the new year, my title seems a bit obsolete. Titles seldom tell what actually happens in a story, though, and mine is no exception. I have learned quite a bit over these four months. It often happens that, when one learns new things, he must continue relearning them for a good while afterwards in order to keep them in mind. So, although I say I have learned a lot, I am still in the process of learning them still.
I have learned to say good-bye. No, not in the way most people think of it. It includes actual farewells to people, but that is not the only thing. I am learning to say good-bye to old habits and ancient sins. I have learned to part with people. It is painful; it hurts. Sometimes you feel like your heart is about to rip out by the seams, but you can do it. Your heart doesn't break and you're still standing on your feet in the end, even with all the pain that's rushing around inside you. I am not saying that I relish the idea of saying farewell again, but I am saying that I have, and I have learned the pain that comes of doing it.
As to saying farewell to old habits and sins - well, I'm still in the process of figuring that one out. God promises, though, that He will cleanse His people, and He will. That's what sanctification is all about. He never promised it would be easy. More times than not, I find myself failing. Those are the times when I must remind myself that it is the Holy Spirit that sanctifies. I do not. I cannot. God can, and He will.
This leads to another lesson I have learned: Never to trust in my own strength. This one is tough. A lot of times we pretend that we don't when really we do. We'd like to think we're trusting God. Phrases such as "God-willing," "If God wants to," and the like pass our lips when in our hearts we don't really mean it. In reality we mean, "God better want it because I want it." Then we accuse Him of being unfair when He changes our plans, when all along it was we who had strayed from His will.
Another lesson I have learned is to never doubt God's work in my life. My life is so easy and cushioned that He doesn't work in obvious ways, but He works in little ways, and those ways are just as awe-inspiring as the obvious ones. What do I mean by little ways? I mean having my sister say something to me and then reading it in my devotions the very next day. I mean being tired and worn out when taking a test and still passing it in the end. I mean the energy He gives so that I can complete just one more labor of love for my family. I mean the strength He gives me to press on even when I feel angry, worthless, and inadequate. There is nothing little about grace. There is only the way we see it. Do we see God's grace as something small and insignificant? Or is it something great and glorious that we cannot get enough of?
That is what I've learned over the past month, year, lifetime. I'm a rather poor student, but God is a most patient and longsuffering teacher.
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