Thursday, May 15, 2003

Finding comfort: Finding God.

Life continues. Whether I participate in it or not. It continues to roll right by. When I'm particularly reflective or a bit meloncholy I find myself searching for space. A space to be comforted. I pray, "O Lord, I call to you; come quickly to me. Hear my voice when I call to you. May my prayer be set before you like incense; may the lifting up of my hands be like the evening sacrifice" (Psalm 141:1-2). I do pray that He will come quickly. I pray that He'll give me peace, comfort and rest.

I've realized that I haven't made the time for quiet. Life continues to pass and I keep moving with it. When I was in seminary I took a class around spirituality. One of the requirements was that as a class we had to spend a day of silence at a monastary. There was about fifty of us that attended this day of silence. I found in myself the inability to silence my mind, my heart, my inner being. I prayed for this day of rest--this day of quiet and yet, I found that I could physically silence myself but I could not emotionally or spiritually sit in peace. This seems to be my perpetual existence. When will I rest? When will I find comfort or peace?

A portion of my unrest comes from a place where I am scratching to get God to see. I'm scratching to get him to find something in me-- something good, a redeemable quality. In my unrest, I fail to see that it is out of my hands. It is my faith that must sustain me-- my faith that God is God. God is good. God has provided redemption. It is in Him that I am saved. All my attempts to redeem myself are meaningless. Solomon says that everything is meaningless. All our toil is meaningless, because He is who He says He is. Psalm 46:10 says, "Be still, and know that I am God".

Wednesday, May 14, 2003

Could you love

a girl, a mound of broken skin?
Would you demand her to clean up?
Display her as a catalogue, a picture show
of grotesque
naiveté.
Chuckle at her innocence—
her collection of reality.
Is the burden too much to sustain?
protruding limbs
never to mend.

Tuesday, May 13, 2003

Finding contentment.

In this western society it seems people are less and less content in life. Our motivations are fueled by our need to consume. Thus, leaving us in a state of discontent and in a constant need to search. We can never consume enough. The consumption only statisfies for a time-- propelling us to consume more or to feel discouraged by the lack of satisfaction. How do Christians live by this standard? And what are the implications, when we have a God who should fill the void?

Is it God not filling the void? Or is it that he doesn't always fill 'it' (the void) like we think he should? Or is it a combination of both? Do we not allow God to fill the void?
Is the void a constant state of reality, because we are fallen, sinful, broken people? Or is it our inability to accept that Christ's sacrifice is sufficient enough for our sin?

I sat with a client this week and we talked about his housing options. He is a homeless man. He temporarily lives in transitional housing and his time is coming to an end. My job is to help him find a place so that he doesn't end up back on the streets. In reviewing his options the opportunities looked bleak. And as I felt myself beginning to feel hopeless he said, 'It's not in my hands. Something will come up. He brought me this far and I don't expect that he'll let me down now.' He shared that he had been living on the street for 2 years and finally he said, 'I've had it God. Something has to change... either you bring something to me or i'll end up in prison, killing myself, or shot by someone else'. Two days later he found a job placement program and through that program found housing. He has peace even though he has nothing -- materially. He has his faith. Listening, I felt humbled. I don't have peace and I fight to keep it all in my hands. My faith is weak and waivering. It is easily swayed by this and that. When will I be content in the goodness of God's gift?

Monday, May 12, 2003

Defending mine own when it is not mine to defend.

Everybody thinks that they know what is 'truth'. People define their truth based on their experience, creating a subjective reality and when another claims that there is another truth we feel the need to defend our previously defined 'truth'. C.S. Lewis calls this 'The Law of Decent Behaviour'. I believe that 'the law' is a subjective reality. For instance, how we define decent is different for every one. Frank (my husband) thinks that it is completely indecent to call people after 9 pm. I, on the other hand, have no problem with calling people at midnight. Our laws sometimes conflict when I feel the need to call someone late at night and Frank shares that I should wait til morning. Immediately I feel defensive because I interpret his caution as saying that I am insensitive, bad, etc. My 'truth' is put into question when Frank cautions me of the time. Why is that? Why do we feel the need to defend ourselves? It is a natural instinct to defend. Defense is not always wrong. But when it severs relationship-- it may need to be re-examined.

As Christ went to the cross, at no point did he feel that he needed to defend his position. He knew 'truth'. He was 'truth' and he did not try to convince others to believe him. He willingly went to the cross. I realize that I am never willing to go. I'm willing to go if the circumstances are right. I'm willing to go if I can be reassured that people will acknowledge me and I will be safe. I'm willing to go when I am in the right frame of mind. I am never willing to go in sacrifice of myself. I realize that my defense is the unwillingness to trust that God is God. That 'truth' is 'truth' without my defense. My arrogance keeps me from deeply experiencing the humble nature of Christ, because I am too fixed on my next defense. Thus, leaving me in suspicion of God and others. This 'truth' is not mine to defend. It doesn't need a defense, because grace never asks to be defended. Grace gives without protection and it is misunderstood daily. My 'truth' is an extention of the greater 'truth'. A bit skewed and sometimes misinterpreting the bigger meaning. And because of my human fallacies, my 'truth' is not mine to defend either. My 'truth' must always remember grace-- and be ready to give it without understanding, protection, or solitude.