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| I moved my blog.
You can find me here from now on.
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| I don't have a title for this; I just wrote it.
When I said "I believe in God"
I didn't mean it as a joke
I meant he's watching, acting
working miracles and mysteries
which we will only understand
in the future, in his time.
It doesn't help me sleep at night
I lie awake pondering him
delving into his heart
When I became a Christian
it wasn't for high school fashion
I didn't find health, wealth, and t-shirts
but grace, a death instrument, and new life
I discovered that forgiveness comes by hard means
and does not understand flippant afterthoughts
no, it comes at such a high price
Man had no word to describe it
so he invented "excruciating"
When I talk about freedom
I don't mean an orgy of irresponsibility
where we throw our chains on others
assuming they will clean up our mess
If picket lines and network TV smut
are our best expressions of liberty,
we are a sad people
When I think about peace
I know we can't just give it a chance
I think a few thousand years
of theft, murder, rape, and war
have proven that peace is a blue collar job
it's more than a vote or a song
or talk in a dorm room or coffee shop
it's the reminder that life is a vapor
and that a broken heart beats
inside every man and woman
These are thoughts running through my head and heart today as I think of the things I believe.
I know it's not my best work ever. It doesn't really conclude, it just ends. I couldn't come up with a fitting conclusion, so I decided to just leave it as it stands.
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| I haven't written in a while. I just finished a strong cup of coffee, so I'll give this a shot.
It's not that I don't have anything to say; I haven't been good at putting things into words lately. That happens when my heart is heavy.
I bought a laptop (no, it's not a Mac), and I've been playing with it up here at work.
Last night I went on iTunes and downloaded a live recording of "Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble?" by Hillsong United. I really love that song. I think it captures the idea of complete freedom.
I think we have a skewed view of freedom in 21st century America. I went most of my life thinking that freedom meant I could do things that other people don't like. Maybe I'm the only one who defined freedom in such a way. As I've grown a little older, I think I've gotten a better idea of what freedom is.
Have you ever just let something go? Maybe it was a sin that you finally confessed, or maybe it was some baggage that you finally put down. Remember how you felt lighter? There is your freedom.
In the song "Every New Day," Reese Roper says that freedom is love without condition, without a beginning or an end. He's talking about Christ's never-ending love. The first time I heard that lyric, I thought it was odd. It was only red. No white or blue.
The idea that Christ came to take away all the wrong, pain, and death is freedom. Truly it was love without condition because it cost Him his life. It didn't mean that He looked the other way, and said "Let's call it square." He had to march up a mountain, beaten beyond recognition, and let people nail Him to a rough hunk of wood. The blood that flowed out of His veins onto that mountain washed away sin, and all the pain and death that comes with it.
So what does it have to do with freedom? We've all experienced heartbreak in one form or another. The thing is, we've caused our fair share as well. I think we have to keep that in perspective.
Because of the cross, Jesus Christ says, "Let go of what you've done. I took care of that."
It also means we can quit holding onto our hurts, and we can quit emotionally cutting ourselves with it. It means we can look at Christ and be like Him. We can be gracious. We can be free.
I'm fascinated by grace. I know it means "God's unmerited favor," and I think that's a good definition. But the true meaning of grace almost floats above the definition, if that makes sense. I guess you could almost says it's like a perfect Platonic form, but I think it goes beyond that too. Departing from my Southern Baptist roots, I've come to think that there's almost a mystical nature to grace. It's absolutely unfathomable.
A few Sundays ago, I was an absolute wreck at church. I pulled Joe (he's the praise band leader) aside and told him that I didn't think I should play that morning. I didn't feel like telling folks to rejoice in the Lord always. I didn't feel like rejoicing at all; I felt like crawling into bed and trying again on Monday.
Joe had the audacity to challenge me to play anyway. He thought it would be good for me, and God bless him, he was right.
I had forgotten about grace, about freedom. I'm remembering now. I can't say that this isn't hard. The war is won, but our salvation is already and not yet. There's still a life to live as a disciple of Christ. That means remembering whose I am on sunny days and in Valley Forge winters. We don't get to do this life in Christ thing in 12 easy steps.
I feel a really self-conscious writing all of this. I guess I'm in awe of the grace of God and the freedom it brings. I'm free from myself, from my own sin and hurt.
I want to learn what it means to be gracious like God is gracious. I have a feeling it will turn everything I think I know on its head. That just means I'll be seeing everything right-side up like God intended it to be.
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| I learned a new lesson on Saturday night. When there's a shortage of single women at a wedding reception, dance with the bride. That's what I did. | | |
| My dad is hanging in there. He's recovering well from the surgery. I talked to him on the phone for about an hour last night, and though he's making progress, I could still hear a lot of strain in his voice. The problem is that he's experiencing a lot of discomfort and pain due to his surgery, so please pray that the discomfort and pain would be alieviated. If I can, (and I can) I'd like to ask you to pray for Marilyn Flottman as well. She was recently diagnosed with cancer as well. The tumor is of an unknown origin, and therefore the doctors don't know exactly how to treat it. Marilyn is Cora's mom, and therefore both friend and family. The whole Flottman family is dear to my heart, so I'd ask you to please pray that the doctors could make the right assessment on a treatment, and that God would grant peace to the Flottmans. Cancer is a scary word, and an even scarier reality. I've got some musings on grace I'd like to share soon, but for now, I'll just ask you to pray for these people I love. Thank you. | | |
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