Dropping in uninvited into people's homes and giving rise to his demigod progeny. Or maybe like Athena: someone's after you, you get shamed and hurt, and you run into the temple asking for help. Next thing you know, you have snakes hissing where your hair used to be, and you're dragging your scaly belly and twenty-foot reticulated tail around.
For the price of movie tickets (and with my husband right next beside me, to boot), I got fresh insight into just a few of the things that make God, well...God.
For instance, this uninvited thing.
Jesus talked about knocking. Calling out. And being given the chance to decide, upon hearing His voice, whether we want to let Him in or not.
And in His perfect Holiness, God would never, ever want -- or could -- defile you with the slightest blemish. In fact, this is what He specializes in...
Dealing with our sinning, shameful selves. And making sure we end up spotless in the end.
The woman who was caught in adultery caused the Holy Hand of God's own Son to write on the sand. Perhaps, conjectures one Bible scholar: a list of sins of each member of the angry mob? But most telling äre His own words:
"...neither do I condemn you..go now and leave your life of sin."
Instead of turning her into a scaly horror, He lets her undergo a spiritual molting like no other. She starts out as a serpent-like creature, the object of scorn, wrath and a death sentence. With His declaration, she sheds the life of sin, and becomes a new creation alive in the Son.
And let us not forget the sacrifice thing.
While most other beliefs, such as those of the ancient Greeks and Romans, usually involve the concept of deities demanding human sacrifice, true Christianity is founded upon the concept of God sacrificing His own Son to redeem us.
When I first learned that Ralph Fiennes and Liam Neeson would be in Clash of the Titans, I knew then that I wanted to watch. The effects, the story, the action, the actors, the acting!
Instead I came home extremely, indescribably grateful that it's just another Hollywood moneymaker. And that the Real God isn't hungry for our worship (deserving, yes; lusting after, no), or up to some mischief, or capable of being baffled, beaten or deceived.
So go ahead, release the Kraken.
But remember to grab hold of the Truth.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Some ten-foot poles just aren't long enough...
...Especially when it comes to sleeping dogs such as relationships laid to rest, sins you've turned your back on already, and things you promised yourself (or, more crucially, God and another person) you'd never think, say or do.
Learned this lesson the hard way just a while ago.
An erstwhile suitor who quietly faded into the background over two decades ago somehow faded into my Facebook list of Friend Requests. Quickly assessing the former situation (brief, seemingly harmless, nipped-in-the-bud attempt at teenage courtship), I reckoned it would be fine to click Confirm. This isn't so-and-so with whom I got really serious; nor such-and-such whom I considered my first real love; thus went my internal ethics committee and auditors.
However, once I actually responded to the perfunctory hellos on FB chat...the thread took on an increasingly tangled direction. As in, tangled around his thinly-veiled attempts to awaken the sleeping dog, and resurrect a relationship that never was.
I cut the connection right there and rued the day I dared use the ten-foot pole.
Just last week the same thing happened: a phrase I vowed never to use with someone very close to me, just seemed to slip over my tongue and slide right out of my mouth. I hurt someone terribly, and though things between us have taken a turn for the better, still......That weight, that sigh keeps cropping up every now and then.
For some things, even 20-foot poles aren't up to the job. When you touch something with a pole, there's just no way of telling beforehand if the thing cannot manage to grab hold of the pole, shake it loose from your grasp, and eradicate the safe distance between you.
If you're even thinking of touching that sleeping dog...DON'T. It doesn't respect poles, no matter what their length. Sleeping dogs are meant to lie.
Drop the pole, turn your back, and keep walking towards the future God has for you. That's the safest way to go.
So what am I thankful for?
Uhm, this time, I guess, it would have to be that lovely little link called Log Out.
Learned this lesson the hard way just a while ago.
An erstwhile suitor who quietly faded into the background over two decades ago somehow faded into my Facebook list of Friend Requests. Quickly assessing the former situation (brief, seemingly harmless, nipped-in-the-bud attempt at teenage courtship), I reckoned it would be fine to click Confirm. This isn't so-and-so with whom I got really serious; nor such-and-such whom I considered my first real love; thus went my internal ethics committee and auditors.
However, once I actually responded to the perfunctory hellos on FB chat...the thread took on an increasingly tangled direction. As in, tangled around his thinly-veiled attempts to awaken the sleeping dog, and resurrect a relationship that never was.
I cut the connection right there and rued the day I dared use the ten-foot pole.
Just last week the same thing happened: a phrase I vowed never to use with someone very close to me, just seemed to slip over my tongue and slide right out of my mouth. I hurt someone terribly, and though things between us have taken a turn for the better, still......That weight, that sigh keeps cropping up every now and then.
For some things, even 20-foot poles aren't up to the job. When you touch something with a pole, there's just no way of telling beforehand if the thing cannot manage to grab hold of the pole, shake it loose from your grasp, and eradicate the safe distance between you.
If you're even thinking of touching that sleeping dog...DON'T. It doesn't respect poles, no matter what their length. Sleeping dogs are meant to lie.
Drop the pole, turn your back, and keep walking towards the future God has for you. That's the safest way to go.
So what am I thankful for?
Uhm, this time, I guess, it would have to be that lovely little link called Log Out.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
What, me pursue God?
In the hairsprayed mists of New Wave's Golden Era, I pursued radio stations where I could listen nonstop to Siouxsie & the Banshees, the Lotus Eaters, The Clash, The Cure, The Ramones, the-what-have-yous.
In college I pursued flat ones (in my Literature subjects, at least) and the poetic muse. Soon thereafter, in the labor force, I pursued good pay, fun officemates, creative environments, dollar-compensated consultancies, good books, sidelines.
Once married, I pursued the obstetrician, the pediatrician, the toddler ambling towards the gate, the same toddler about to pop a toy into his mouth, and another squishy, squirming infant trying to wriggle from his bath.
So why not pursue God this time, indeed?
It took a 62-year-old book to nudge me onto this track.
Aiden W. Tozer's "The Pursuit of God: The Human Thirst for the Divine" has been my midnight companion for three nights now (though unfortunately, not three consecutive nights). Still, each time I finished a chapter--vaguely anticipatory, barely conscious of a rising hope and excitement within me--I had the strangest, most delightful sensation that God was just getting started with me.
So here I am, getting ready for the fourth chapter tomorrow.
And all this running after has driven me to thirst for more. But this thirst, while enlivening me and egging me on, does not carry with it the sour edge of envy, nor the bitter aftertaste of regret, and not even the utter blandness of self-pity, nor any of the negative emotions that accompany unhealthy thirsts.
The spirit within me knows--this thirst is good. The pursuit of its quenching, better. The One who alone can quench: the best.
Let's drink up this Holy Week, shall we?
In college I pursued flat ones (in my Literature subjects, at least) and the poetic muse. Soon thereafter, in the labor force, I pursued good pay, fun officemates, creative environments, dollar-compensated consultancies, good books, sidelines.
Once married, I pursued the obstetrician, the pediatrician, the toddler ambling towards the gate, the same toddler about to pop a toy into his mouth, and another squishy, squirming infant trying to wriggle from his bath.
So why not pursue God this time, indeed?
It took a 62-year-old book to nudge me onto this track.
Aiden W. Tozer's "The Pursuit of God: The Human Thirst for the Divine" has been my midnight companion for three nights now (though unfortunately, not three consecutive nights). Still, each time I finished a chapter--vaguely anticipatory, barely conscious of a rising hope and excitement within me--I had the strangest, most delightful sensation that God was just getting started with me.
So here I am, getting ready for the fourth chapter tomorrow.
And all this running after has driven me to thirst for more. But this thirst, while enlivening me and egging me on, does not carry with it the sour edge of envy, nor the bitter aftertaste of regret, and not even the utter blandness of self-pity, nor any of the negative emotions that accompany unhealthy thirsts.
The spirit within me knows--this thirst is good. The pursuit of its quenching, better. The One who alone can quench: the best.
Let's drink up this Holy Week, shall we?
Friday, March 19, 2010
Good thing God let David rant almost as much as he raved...
...because otherwise, we might end up being scared of basic, heart-deep honesty before the God of truth, who doesn't change His mind and can never lie.
Times when we're flat-out scared. Or trying to hide our flaming hot red faces after realizing we have done something that a kind or wise person would not do. Or simply feeling low and needing a Father to say, Come here, child, sit beside me and rest your head on My shoulder. I have all the time that Eternity can hold.
Then, too, honesty is just as important when we're in foot-stomping, fist-clenching mode.
"This is just so unfair!"
"You did what???"
"I was first in line. Three hours ago. And this guy's trying to butt in."
And then there are times when our most eloquent speech is distilled into a sigh and a defeated shoulder shrug. Or into a worldess cry that echoes painfully from the depths of our souls.
He would understand. Because He sighed when He saw His Son tired. Divine eyes wept holy tears as His Son drew final breaths.
Then again, because David did rave, too, we can confidently eschew false dignity and bloated self-importance and simply jump and dance when heaven has given us reason to do so.
Such as when, after a with-bated-breath look, a pregnancy test stick finally shows the shy pink second line. Or a relative stranger looks you straight in the eye and shakes your clammy hand as she says, "Congratulations, you're hired!". Or with sheer abandon you give a totally unselfconscious hug to someone you've hurt before, and with whom you have now made peace.
Look for those moments this week.
Whether you feel like sighing, stamping or singing, know that your most intimate audience of One is never shocked or surprised, just all eyes and ears. Always.
Times when we're flat-out scared. Or trying to hide our flaming hot red faces after realizing we have done something that a kind or wise person would not do. Or simply feeling low and needing a Father to say, Come here, child, sit beside me and rest your head on My shoulder. I have all the time that Eternity can hold.
Then, too, honesty is just as important when we're in foot-stomping, fist-clenching mode.
"This is just so unfair!"
"You did what???"
"I was first in line. Three hours ago. And this guy's trying to butt in."
And then there are times when our most eloquent speech is distilled into a sigh and a defeated shoulder shrug. Or into a worldess cry that echoes painfully from the depths of our souls.
He would understand. Because He sighed when He saw His Son tired. Divine eyes wept holy tears as His Son drew final breaths.
Then again, because David did rave, too, we can confidently eschew false dignity and bloated self-importance and simply jump and dance when heaven has given us reason to do so.
Such as when, after a with-bated-breath look, a pregnancy test stick finally shows the shy pink second line. Or a relative stranger looks you straight in the eye and shakes your clammy hand as she says, "Congratulations, you're hired!". Or with sheer abandon you give a totally unselfconscious hug to someone you've hurt before, and with whom you have now made peace.
Look for those moments this week.
Whether you feel like sighing, stamping or singing, know that your most intimate audience of One is never shocked or surprised, just all eyes and ears. Always.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
"Behold...I make all things new."
...And because God proves it daily (have you ever seen completely identical cloud formations, for one?), then I can have hope that today is a fresh start for me.
Like, having all but abandoned this blog for over a year, I now find myself with a new child, a new job, a new nanny, even a newfound excitement about blogging.
Why not take this simple exercise when you're feeling depressed
and desperate about something...
1. What's the worst thing that can happen if this doesn't change, say, in a week's time? After a month?
2. If I could actually change one thing about this situation, what would I want to change? Why?
3. If No. 1 isn't doable at this point, what could I actually change for now?
4. Setting aside 1, 2, and 3...What can I change about the way I see this situation, or the way I feel about it?
To guide you through number 4, take note of this piece of wisdom:
"...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."*
Maybe the situation isn't all bad; perhaps you are seeing only part of the truth about it. Perhaps it is serving a purpose you will begin to see more clearly with the passing of time. Maybe the other person (there's usually bound to be someone involved) is changing in some way, presently imperceptible to you, but in the fullness of reality, definitely occurring. Or it may simply be a case of focusing too much on one the thing that is not right, and ignoring everything else that is actually working and running.
When all is said and done, the best place to start the change is in our own minds and hearts.
*Philippians 4:8 (NIV)
Like, having all but abandoned this blog for over a year, I now find myself with a new child, a new job, a new nanny, even a newfound excitement about blogging.
Why not take this simple exercise when you're feeling depressed
and desperate about something...
1. What's the worst thing that can happen if this doesn't change, say, in a week's time? After a month?
2. If I could actually change one thing about this situation, what would I want to change? Why?
3. If No. 1 isn't doable at this point, what could I actually change for now?
4. Setting aside 1, 2, and 3...What can I change about the way I see this situation, or the way I feel about it?
To guide you through number 4, take note of this piece of wisdom:
"...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."*
Maybe the situation isn't all bad; perhaps you are seeing only part of the truth about it. Perhaps it is serving a purpose you will begin to see more clearly with the passing of time. Maybe the other person (there's usually bound to be someone involved) is changing in some way, presently imperceptible to you, but in the fullness of reality, definitely occurring. Or it may simply be a case of focusing too much on one the thing that is not right, and ignoring everything else that is actually working and running.
When all is said and done, the best place to start the change is in our own minds and hearts.
*Philippians 4:8 (NIV)
Monday, January 19, 2009
"The Moment I Wake Up..."
There is a strong temptation to say "oh no," pushed by thoughts of new things to be done, things left undone the day before, people to talk with, chores to do/delegate/dodge…all in rapid-fire succession, faster than still-sleepy fingers can write them down in a PDA using a stylus, and much more than a 2-square-inch space in a pocket planner can accommodate.
Yet it’s precisely the best moment to pause and ponder.
Trade the rapid-fire succession for a lovely procession. Set down the stylus or plop the planner somewhere (for the moment). Breathe. (Or pray if that’s already a habit for you.)
And then think: GOD, among those of us who tucked in at approximately the same time last night, how many others didn’t wake up at this time—and will not wake up at any other time on earth?
Thanking God for the fresh chance, move on to the next level: Okay, Lord, of all the things screaming, threatening, pleading for my attention, all the big and small tasks that seem likely to either drown or drain me today, which of these are really (really now):
... simultaneously so urgent and important, that it can’t possibly be done at a later date, without posing life-and-death risk, or representing a broken commitment to, or laying an unfair burden on someone?
...absolutely dependent on me because I’m the one most rightfully positioned or best equipped or most clearly accountable to do it?
Consider these two questions as small, simple candles that throw light into a dark room, revealing monsters for the imaginary creatures they are, and cutting seemingly infinite black holes to size till they resemble, more clearly, nondescript shadows in a very real world limited to 24 hours per day.
In the light of these candles, list only the things you MUST and CAN handle. With only one body (yours). With the time you have at hand—computed at the rate of "24 hours less sleeping time, meals, and other requisites for physical sustenance and sanity preservation".
Done? Good.
The day awaits.
"The Lord's love never ends; his mercies never stop. They are new every morning..." Lamentations 3:22, 23 (NCV)
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The First Step In Anything
...Is to decide to take the step itself. That is the actual thing, preceded by so many other little things--the preparatory stage vital to any endeavor.
It is in the preparatory stage that questions are first raised, and, hopefully, answered: why must I do this? If it's not something I actually have to do, why would I want to do it anyway? How does this fall into the general scheme of things that I call my life? What do I hope to achieve with this? How will this make me thankful--moments, days, a decade from now--that I actually went into this in the first place?
How will this help bring me one step closer to the person God meant me to become? (Or, conversely, how might this step actually take me farther away from that, and closer instead to becoming someone I may eventually regret turning into?)
Thus, for me, I have begun blogging, officially, today. Because I've looked at my life--as wife, mom to a nine-year-old, and soon to become mom to an infant; as a writer, gifted with, burdened by, enamored with words--and decided: the Internet can stand the addition of another voice. But not just more noise added to an oftentimes-chaotic digital Babel. But, God willing, a soft soothing whisper of wisdom on the worldwide web.
It is in the preparatory stage that questions are first raised, and, hopefully, answered: why must I do this? If it's not something I actually have to do, why would I want to do it anyway? How does this fall into the general scheme of things that I call my life? What do I hope to achieve with this? How will this make me thankful--moments, days, a decade from now--that I actually went into this in the first place?
How will this help bring me one step closer to the person God meant me to become? (Or, conversely, how might this step actually take me farther away from that, and closer instead to becoming someone I may eventually regret turning into?)
Thus, for me, I have begun blogging, officially, today. Because I've looked at my life--as wife, mom to a nine-year-old, and soon to become mom to an infant; as a writer, gifted with, burdened by, enamored with words--and decided: the Internet can stand the addition of another voice. But not just more noise added to an oftentimes-chaotic digital Babel. But, God willing, a soft soothing whisper of wisdom on the worldwide web.
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