Put to death therefore what is earthly in you. (Colossians 3:5)
Do you mortify? Do you make it your daily work? Do not take a day off from this work; always be killing sin or it will be killing you. We must strike it as an enemy until it ceases living. Sin is labouring to bring forth the deeds of the flesh. When sin lets us alone, we may let sin alone. Sin is active when it seems to be the most quiet, and its waters are often deep when they are calm. Sin is always acting, conceiving, seducing, and tempting. There is not a day but sin foils or is foiled. There is no safety but in a constant warfare from sin’s perplexing rebellion. Sin will not only be striving, acting, rebelling, troubling, and disquieting if not continually mortified, it will also bring forth great, cursed, scandalous, and soul-destroying sins (Gal. 5:19-20). When sin rises to tempt, it always seeks to express itself in the extreme. Every unclean thought would be adultery if it could; every covetous desire would be oppression; and every thought of unbelief would be atheism. It is like the grave that is never satisfied. Sin’s advance blinds the soul from seeing its drift from God. The soul becomes indifferent to sin as it continues to grow. The growth of sin has no boundaries but the utter denial of God and opposition to Him. Sin proceeds higher by degrees; it hardens the heart as it advances. Mortification withers the root and strikes at the head of sin every hour. The best saints in the world are in danger of a fall if found negligent in this important duty. Negligence of this duty decays the inner man instead of renewing him. It is our duty to be ‘bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God’ (2 Cor. 7:1), and every day to be growing in grace (I Pet. 2:2), and seeking to be renewed in the inner nature day by day (2 Cor. 4:16).
--- John Owen, Works, VI:9-14
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A good reminder…
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
This and That, Hither and Yon
How long does a blog retirement last, exactly? Is a week or two sufficient to call it a break? We’ll say yes for now, and if I retire it again, I’ll be sure to legitimize it by waiting at least a month before posting. I had sincerely hoped that I would have the remnants of a past blog to help me get going, but the words “No drafts” quashed that dream quickly. Recently all my creativity (and believe me, the stores are easily depleted) has been channeled into either my book or journal. That’s right—my book. I write, all the time. It’s not good, or even interesting, and is relegated to the dusty shelf where I keep my poetry notebook. My plan is to burn all those things (or delete them from the computer, in some cases) within the next few years, lest I die suddenly and the embarrassing results of my fanciful (and moderately dramatic) mind are open to the world. I would hate to “sport with your intelligence” (to quote Ms. Austen) by sharing them. To clarify, though, my book flows much more smoothly than any blog post ever did. If one cannot be random and choppy in a blog, then where on earth can they? (besides in everyday conversation, in which I manage randomness quite well.) After all, the internet is the breeding ground for the decimation of grammatical rules and spelling, not to mention literary correctness.
Owning the entire encyclopaedia brittannica (macropaedia AND micropaedia) has come in handy for once. (not that they don’t often come in handy, but this time it was more practical). If I can’t sleep, I find something rather mundane to read. Of course, reaching for the encyclopaedia turned out to be not boring at all. Next time I’ll use a phonebook. The result of Monday night’s caffeine-induced insomnia is a remarkable amount of information about Finnish architecture. That’s right, Alvar Aalto was a scandinavian architect who apparently “made the leap from rational-functional to irrational-organic.” His work was world-renowned, and characterized by flat roofs, ribbon windows, and plenty of balconies and terraces. You see how much you can learn about architecture from one article? Poor man’s wife died in ‘49, but he remarried in ‘52… I’ll bet his two daughters were just thrilled with that move. Yes, I realize how ridiculous it is that I am reciting facts from an encyclopaedia, of all things. I’ll stop now.
Often I claim that my brain is either fried, or not fully functioning, generally because I’m overly tired. As it turns out, though, all those times (mostly in the last two months) have absolutely nothing on the last two days. Being sick brings me to a lack of clarity that I never experienced before, which makes me afraid that my brain not working quite right is the rule, not the exception. Yesterday (the first day I woke up feeling Not Quite The Thing) I decided to either do nothing that I had planned, or go ahead and plow through all of it. Besides, if I must do the unpleasant things, despite how I feel, then I am going to do the fun things as well. It was a looong day, and I feel quite bad for anyone who I held conversations with… I was much less coherent than normal, and possibly even rude. I’m too tired to really remember. Today I am paying the price for not submitting to sicknesses demands of yesterday. I’ve alternated between unrestful (yes, i’m making that word up) sleep which provides dreams so vivid that when I wake up, I can’t tell if they were real or not, and a state of half-wakefulness emphasized by a pounding headache, a horribly stuffy nose, an unspeakably painful throat, achiness, and slightly blurred and unfocused eyesight. Needless to say, I’m exhausted. And I think I know who I have to blame. He is about three feet tall, and I distinctly remember letting him drink out of my Starbucks cold cup this weekend. Silly me, I couldn’t say no, when he was so fascinated by the red and white striped straw. Either that, or a sweet little moppet who blew her nose on me. Three times. She thought it was cute…
Nonetheless, I forced myself to muster up the energy in between naps to tidy my room up. If I am going to be miserable and feel that I am at death’s door, then I am at least going to do it in an immaculate room. The reward of the temporary effort is huge. Lovely instrumental music, (alternating between Swing’s Greatest Hits, Directors Cut movie themes, and random symphonies) two or three candles, and a pot of very hot white vanilla grapefruit tea are the only things motivating me to write. I should be practicing the piano, but that takes too much effort. Every time I begin to think that I have energy, simply standing up reminds me that it’s futile. At least I can be tired in a nice atmosphere.
I love my quiet little domain, but even the satisfaction of a clean, candlelit room cannot keep the desire to travel at bay.The longing for a road trip has come over me again. It usually does this time of year, when it’s been too long since our last vacation. I want to walk the rolling hills of scotland again, but there doesn’t seem to be a high probability of that happening, so I’d be perfectly happy to settle for driving the “going to the sun” highway. Isn’t that the Glacier National Park one? Well, either that or Highway 1 in California. Technically Hannah and I have a cross country road trip planned, but that won’t happen until 2013, and I simply cannot last that long. What I’ve been doing is looking at pictures, hoping that would temporarily satisfy any desire to go, but all that’s doing is making me want to go out RIGHT NOW and buy the Nikon D90 that has been calling my name for a year now. As fun as being (mostly) unemployed is, it has a few practical disadvantages. Currently, the camera and the kindle are the two biggest getting to me. Good thing I have a couple hundred hard copies of books to keep me busy until I buy the kindle. Oh… and the two thousand plus books in papa’s office. Perhaps I shouldn’t be complaining, after all.
And specifically for Aunt Sandie—Over the last year, every time I complained on facebook about any sort of physical ailment or something that sounds thyroid related, you told me to get it checked out…. Well, I did. I temporarily overcame my IMMENSE dislike of doctors, hospitals, and all things medical just long enough to try out Rachel’s naturopath. Amazing woman. Overlooking the fact that my arm is still bruised from blood drawn a week ago, I’m quite happy with what she told me. Something about deficiencies in the vitamins D and B, cortisol and iron levels. Is it strange that I’m thrilled to find out that something is wrong with me? It’s quite cheering to find out that things will be going up from here. Oh, and here’s a technical detail for you—apparently the thyroid was 1.25, which is normal and okay. Now I can pull the whole “My doctor recommends…” in a sniffly, reedy, british accent. (I’ve been watching too much Jeeves and Wooster lately.)
Well, that’s really all I’ve got for now. I promise that my next post will have something more spiritually-oriented in it. I’ll look for a good excerpt to put up. Have a phenomenal day.
Owning the entire encyclopaedia brittannica (macropaedia AND micropaedia) has come in handy for once. (not that they don’t often come in handy, but this time it was more practical). If I can’t sleep, I find something rather mundane to read. Of course, reaching for the encyclopaedia turned out to be not boring at all. Next time I’ll use a phonebook. The result of Monday night’s caffeine-induced insomnia is a remarkable amount of information about Finnish architecture. That’s right, Alvar Aalto was a scandinavian architect who apparently “made the leap from rational-functional to irrational-organic.” His work was world-renowned, and characterized by flat roofs, ribbon windows, and plenty of balconies and terraces. You see how much you can learn about architecture from one article? Poor man’s wife died in ‘49, but he remarried in ‘52… I’ll bet his two daughters were just thrilled with that move. Yes, I realize how ridiculous it is that I am reciting facts from an encyclopaedia, of all things. I’ll stop now.
Often I claim that my brain is either fried, or not fully functioning, generally because I’m overly tired. As it turns out, though, all those times (mostly in the last two months) have absolutely nothing on the last two days. Being sick brings me to a lack of clarity that I never experienced before, which makes me afraid that my brain not working quite right is the rule, not the exception. Yesterday (the first day I woke up feeling Not Quite The Thing) I decided to either do nothing that I had planned, or go ahead and plow through all of it. Besides, if I must do the unpleasant things, despite how I feel, then I am going to do the fun things as well. It was a looong day, and I feel quite bad for anyone who I held conversations with… I was much less coherent than normal, and possibly even rude. I’m too tired to really remember. Today I am paying the price for not submitting to sicknesses demands of yesterday. I’ve alternated between unrestful (yes, i’m making that word up) sleep which provides dreams so vivid that when I wake up, I can’t tell if they were real or not, and a state of half-wakefulness emphasized by a pounding headache, a horribly stuffy nose, an unspeakably painful throat, achiness, and slightly blurred and unfocused eyesight. Needless to say, I’m exhausted. And I think I know who I have to blame. He is about three feet tall, and I distinctly remember letting him drink out of my Starbucks cold cup this weekend. Silly me, I couldn’t say no, when he was so fascinated by the red and white striped straw. Either that, or a sweet little moppet who blew her nose on me. Three times. She thought it was cute…
Nonetheless, I forced myself to muster up the energy in between naps to tidy my room up. If I am going to be miserable and feel that I am at death’s door, then I am at least going to do it in an immaculate room. The reward of the temporary effort is huge. Lovely instrumental music, (alternating between Swing’s Greatest Hits, Directors Cut movie themes, and random symphonies) two or three candles, and a pot of very hot white vanilla grapefruit tea are the only things motivating me to write. I should be practicing the piano, but that takes too much effort. Every time I begin to think that I have energy, simply standing up reminds me that it’s futile. At least I can be tired in a nice atmosphere.
I love my quiet little domain, but even the satisfaction of a clean, candlelit room cannot keep the desire to travel at bay.The longing for a road trip has come over me again. It usually does this time of year, when it’s been too long since our last vacation. I want to walk the rolling hills of scotland again, but there doesn’t seem to be a high probability of that happening, so I’d be perfectly happy to settle for driving the “going to the sun” highway. Isn’t that the Glacier National Park one? Well, either that or Highway 1 in California. Technically Hannah and I have a cross country road trip planned, but that won’t happen until 2013, and I simply cannot last that long. What I’ve been doing is looking at pictures, hoping that would temporarily satisfy any desire to go, but all that’s doing is making me want to go out RIGHT NOW and buy the Nikon D90 that has been calling my name for a year now. As fun as being (mostly) unemployed is, it has a few practical disadvantages. Currently, the camera and the kindle are the two biggest getting to me. Good thing I have a couple hundred hard copies of books to keep me busy until I buy the kindle. Oh… and the two thousand plus books in papa’s office. Perhaps I shouldn’t be complaining, after all.
And specifically for Aunt Sandie—Over the last year, every time I complained on facebook about any sort of physical ailment or something that sounds thyroid related, you told me to get it checked out…. Well, I did. I temporarily overcame my IMMENSE dislike of doctors, hospitals, and all things medical just long enough to try out Rachel’s naturopath. Amazing woman. Overlooking the fact that my arm is still bruised from blood drawn a week ago, I’m quite happy with what she told me. Something about deficiencies in the vitamins D and B, cortisol and iron levels. Is it strange that I’m thrilled to find out that something is wrong with me? It’s quite cheering to find out that things will be going up from here. Oh, and here’s a technical detail for you—apparently the thyroid was 1.25, which is normal and okay. Now I can pull the whole “My doctor recommends…” in a sniffly, reedy, british accent. (I’ve been watching too much Jeeves and Wooster lately.)
Well, that’s really all I’ve got for now. I promise that my next post will have something more spiritually-oriented in it. I’ll look for a good excerpt to put up. Have a phenomenal day.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
I really don’t… recommend… this.. one…
Hmph. I’m in a strange, exhausted mood, which would imply that it’s unwise for me to blog. However, I’m just exhausted enough to ignore my inner urgings not to post. I thought about deleting my blog, since very few people read it anymore, but for that same reason, I feel I can post whatever sounds good at the moment. And yes, chances are that I’ll delete it later.
For the record, I shouldn’t be taken seriously, because I haven’t slept well in weeks. The last week was worse than most, and when I exist on no solid sleep, my brain turns to mush, my energy is sapped, and I appear generally furious with the world. I’m not; it just looks that way, on account of me having one of those faces that looks snobby if I’m not being ridiculously smiley.
My brain is also rather fuzzy, with plenty of unclear thoughts floating around. I am hoping that getting them out on paper (or in this case “the screen”) will clear the cobwebs enough to make room for a little energy. If that is successful, I plan to do dishes, tidy up my room, then go work out with the punching bag… Meghann and Wes bought me hand wraps for my birthday. Yay for unbruised and not bleeding knuckles. Of course, with the way I’m feeling at the moment, simply getting the room part of that done will be a near-miracle.
Here it comes… the rash of observations that are both unnecessary, and likely untrue. Also a few questions, simply because a contemplative mood has grasped me.
1. Is there a time when you can look back on months in which you were going through hard times without flinching? Or, in my case, speeding through those remembrances, those journal entries, those blog posts, those songs. I think the fear of pain crashing back in keeps me speeding.
2. Marshmallow fondant is the new…well… fondant. I used my birthday as an excuse to make some. And eat LOTS.
3. Birthdays really are much better when you stretch them across as wide a span as possible. This year I managed four whole days. Triumph!
4. Are there any new good music artists out there? Please, shoot them my direction.
5. This post has stretched on much further than it should have, therefore, I’m ending it abruptly, and ungracefully. Au revoir.
For the record, I shouldn’t be taken seriously, because I haven’t slept well in weeks. The last week was worse than most, and when I exist on no solid sleep, my brain turns to mush, my energy is sapped, and I appear generally furious with the world. I’m not; it just looks that way, on account of me having one of those faces that looks snobby if I’m not being ridiculously smiley.
My brain is also rather fuzzy, with plenty of unclear thoughts floating around. I am hoping that getting them out on paper (or in this case “the screen”) will clear the cobwebs enough to make room for a little energy. If that is successful, I plan to do dishes, tidy up my room, then go work out with the punching bag… Meghann and Wes bought me hand wraps for my birthday. Yay for unbruised and not bleeding knuckles. Of course, with the way I’m feeling at the moment, simply getting the room part of that done will be a near-miracle.
Here it comes… the rash of observations that are both unnecessary, and likely untrue. Also a few questions, simply because a contemplative mood has grasped me.
1. Is there a time when you can look back on months in which you were going through hard times without flinching? Or, in my case, speeding through those remembrances, those journal entries, those blog posts, those songs. I think the fear of pain crashing back in keeps me speeding.
2. Marshmallow fondant is the new…well… fondant. I used my birthday as an excuse to make some. And eat LOTS.
3. Birthdays really are much better when you stretch them across as wide a span as possible. This year I managed four whole days. Triumph!
4. Are there any new good music artists out there? Please, shoot them my direction.
5. This post has stretched on much further than it should have, therefore, I’m ending it abruptly, and ungracefully. Au revoir.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Well, well, well. Here we come to another week. I must admit, the thought of posting to my blog leaves me feeling rather drained. But then, so does the thought of… moving… or working out… or anything that requires more than a minimal amount of energy. For some reason, lately sleep has NOT been my friend. It could be the result of several years of simply terrible sleep patterns, but I really prefer not to delve too much into that theory.
I woke up this morning, and my first thought was, “What do I have to do today? What? Nothing? Really?” Enter: Big Smile and Happy Plans. This week has been busier than normal, or maybe I just accomplished more than normal. Monday: Rachel’s house. Tuesday: Early-ish Morning coffee, piano stuff, shopping interlude, book stuff, friends and frozen yoghurt. Wednesday: All day long party. Issaquah, Snoqualmie Falls, Closet-fixing, movies, driving and loud music. Thursday: Getting Things Done. Dinner with people. Excellent. Today was simply a day of “whatever I wants” after getting the important stuff done. Rather nice and leisurely. Now I’m settled with a lovely VENTI!!!!!!! (thank you starbucks for acknowledging my existence and birthday) caramel macchiato, and think it should round out the evening quite nicely, especially when followed by an hour or so of piano. The immaculate vanilla candle scented room waiting for me adds yet another aspect of cheerfulness. (Another thing we won’t explore is my previous stupidity with said jar candle. Suffice it to say it burned all night… we won’t say where, lest it expose me to unnecessary ridicule.) And, since I’m feeling cheerful on this cloudy day, I have to put up a poem that I once had memorized but has since escaped me. Thank goodness for google. (and Longfellow)
---------------------------------------------
The Rainy Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882)
I woke up this morning, and my first thought was, “What do I have to do today? What? Nothing? Really?” Enter: Big Smile and Happy Plans. This week has been busier than normal, or maybe I just accomplished more than normal. Monday: Rachel’s house. Tuesday: Early-ish Morning coffee, piano stuff, shopping interlude, book stuff, friends and frozen yoghurt. Wednesday: All day long party. Issaquah, Snoqualmie Falls, Closet-fixing, movies, driving and loud music. Thursday: Getting Things Done. Dinner with people. Excellent. Today was simply a day of “whatever I wants” after getting the important stuff done. Rather nice and leisurely. Now I’m settled with a lovely VENTI!!!!!!! (thank you starbucks for acknowledging my existence and birthday) caramel macchiato, and think it should round out the evening quite nicely, especially when followed by an hour or so of piano. The immaculate vanilla candle scented room waiting for me adds yet another aspect of cheerfulness. (Another thing we won’t explore is my previous stupidity with said jar candle. Suffice it to say it burned all night… we won’t say where, lest it expose me to unnecessary ridicule.) And, since I’m feeling cheerful on this cloudy day, I have to put up a poem that I once had memorized but has since escaped me. Thank goodness for google. (and Longfellow)
---------------------------------------------
The Rainy Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 – 1882)
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I lied. I couldn’t stay away for two whole weeks this time. Two whole months away from facebook, I could manage. But to actually plan to take two weeks away from my blog is simply, well, unheard of and unlikely.
Typically when I’m chronically enjoying something, I have to share it with the world, so that they can of course try it out as well. It’d be simply awful to keep all that happiness to myself, and of course if I like something, then it would only follow that everyone else would… right? Well, perhaps not. But it’s a happy idea at least.
Anyhow…. What’s on my mind is books and devotionals. And music. And tea. (the former are taking up much more space than the latter, I can assure you.)
I recently started a book called Heroes, by Iain Murray. I got it from my papa for Christmas. (I have a book list that I constantly update. Currently it’s stuck to my bulletin board with a geronimo dart thing, so it’s the most prominent display if he ever is looking for it. {not that I have a birthday coming up or anything……….} ) Pardon me for the digression. It’s comprised of several biography-esque small sections. That is, instead of writing all about George Whitefield’s life, it takes a predominating theme and expands on it. For example: “George Whitefield and Christian Unity” addresses largely Whitefield’s effect on the Great Awakening and the church in promoting true catholicity. Apparently Whitefield did quite a bit to help reconcile varying denominations to each other’s existence. Obviously not totally, but much more than they were before. It actually reminds me of the motto for FIRE (fellowship of independent reformed evangelicals), which is “In essentials, unity; In nonessentials, liberty; in all things, charity.” That being said, I’m currently working through “Jonathan Edwards: The Man and the Legacy.” It helps to have a full biographical background already in mind, so I’m enjoying this one a bit more than Whitefield, to be honest. Next up: John Newton: ‘A Wonder to Myself’. I highly recommend it.
The other is one I’ve been touting to, well, pretty much everyone I meet. I apologize if I already mentioned it here. Right Thinking in a World Gone Wrong, by John MacArthur. So far, it’s been dousing me with oodles of conviction. Therefore, I’m taking it in small doses. (Not because I shy away from being convicted about more than one thing at a time; rather, because it gives me more time to think, consider, and dwell on one issue at a time. My poor brain can’t handle much more than that.) This one may make my top ten of 2010 book list. (do i have to finish it in 2010 to count it on that list??)
The third and final recommendation comes in the form of an excerpt. You’re already familiar with the book, as I use it all the time here. Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening. I loved this particular one, because the other night it was exactly what I needed to hear to get my mind and heart on track, and be focusing on a glorious truth that sometimes is overlooked. It was encouraging, and brought my thoughts to where they needed to be—On Christ, and dwelling with Him, rather than on myself and the temporal earth, the things that pass away.
Typically when I’m chronically enjoying something, I have to share it with the world, so that they can of course try it out as well. It’d be simply awful to keep all that happiness to myself, and of course if I like something, then it would only follow that everyone else would… right? Well, perhaps not. But it’s a happy idea at least.
Anyhow…. What’s on my mind is books and devotionals. And music. And tea. (the former are taking up much more space than the latter, I can assure you.)
I recently started a book called Heroes, by Iain Murray. I got it from my papa for Christmas. (I have a book list that I constantly update. Currently it’s stuck to my bulletin board with a geronimo dart thing, so it’s the most prominent display if he ever is looking for it. {not that I have a birthday coming up or anything……….} ) Pardon me for the digression. It’s comprised of several biography-esque small sections. That is, instead of writing all about George Whitefield’s life, it takes a predominating theme and expands on it. For example: “George Whitefield and Christian Unity” addresses largely Whitefield’s effect on the Great Awakening and the church in promoting true catholicity. Apparently Whitefield did quite a bit to help reconcile varying denominations to each other’s existence. Obviously not totally, but much more than they were before. It actually reminds me of the motto for FIRE (fellowship of independent reformed evangelicals), which is “In essentials, unity; In nonessentials, liberty; in all things, charity.” That being said, I’m currently working through “Jonathan Edwards: The Man and the Legacy.” It helps to have a full biographical background already in mind, so I’m enjoying this one a bit more than Whitefield, to be honest. Next up: John Newton: ‘A Wonder to Myself’. I highly recommend it.
The other is one I’ve been touting to, well, pretty much everyone I meet. I apologize if I already mentioned it here. Right Thinking in a World Gone Wrong, by John MacArthur. So far, it’s been dousing me with oodles of conviction. Therefore, I’m taking it in small doses. (Not because I shy away from being convicted about more than one thing at a time; rather, because it gives me more time to think, consider, and dwell on one issue at a time. My poor brain can’t handle much more than that.) This one may make my top ten of 2010 book list. (do i have to finish it in 2010 to count it on that list??)
The third and final recommendation comes in the form of an excerpt. You’re already familiar with the book, as I use it all the time here. Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening. I loved this particular one, because the other night it was exactly what I needed to hear to get my mind and heart on track, and be focusing on a glorious truth that sometimes is overlooked. It was encouraging, and brought my thoughts to where they needed to be—On Christ, and dwelling with Him, rather than on myself and the temporal earth, the things that pass away.
Evening, January 10.I hope you have a lovely day.
“In my flesh shall I see God.” – Job 19:26
Mark the subject of Job’s devout anticipation-- “I shall see God.” He does not say, “I shall see the saints”—though doubtless that will be untold felicity – but, “I shall see God.” It is not -- “I shall see the pearly gates, I shall behold the walls of jasper, I shall gaze upon the crowns of gold,” but “I shall see God.” This is the sum and substance of heaven, this is the joyful hope of all believers. It is their delight to see Him now in the ordinances by faith. They love to behold Him in communion and prayer; but there in heaven they shall have an open and unclouded vision, and thus seeing “Him as He is,” shall be made completely like Him. Likeness to God – what can we wish for more? And a sight of God—what can we desire better? Some read the passage, “Yet, I shall see God in my flesh,” and find here an allusion to Christ, as the “Word made flesh,” and that glorious beholding of Him which shall be the splendour of the latter days. Whether so or not it is certain that Christ shall be the object of our eternal vision; nor shall we ever want any joy beyond that of seeing Him. Think not that this will be a narrow sphere for the mind to dwell in. It is but one source of delight, but that source is infinite. All His attributes shall be subjects for contemplation, and as He is infinite under each aspect, there is no fear of exhaustion. His works, His gifts, His love to us, and His glory in his purposes, and in all His actions, these shall make a theme which will be ever new. The patriarch looked forward to this sight of God as a personal enjoyment. “Whom mine eye shall behold, and not another.” Take realizing views of heaven’s bliss; think what it will be to you. “THINE eyes shall see the King in His beauty.” All earthly brightness fades and darkens as we gaze upon it, but here is a brightness which can never dim, a glory which can never fade -- “I shall see God!”
Sunday, January 02, 2011
I do beg your pardon for the amount of time elapsed since I last blogged. I really have very little in the way of excuses, except for one: the computer didn’t work. If the word “malware” means anything to you, I hope you understand and feel my pain. After multiple friends made efforts to help extract the dratted thing, a friend of a friend finally fixed it… Not only did he clear five viruses, he also reinstalled the system to be running at full capacity—something about 64 bit rather than the previous 32 bit. Anyway. When I went to blog the other day, I was shocked to find that Live Writer was no longer installed on the laptop…. Enter gaping mouth and vacant expression, followed by many attempts to track down and reinstall the binary file. After this, of course, come the windows popping up and saying things like “First, you must install this program” and “Do you have service pack 2 installed?” Somehow or another I managed all the application juggling, and, as you see, have retrieved Live Writer and am utilizing it to the best of my ability. It is entirely out of the question to consider going back to blogging within the browser again. Much too inconvenient. Too many times, I’ve finished several shining paragraphs of monologue, only to accidentally click some button and see the words “We’re sorry, something went wrong” appear.
Anyway. I am taking a short-ish sabbatical from the internet and blogging. By “short-ish”, what I mean is “hopefully two weeks.” If you need me, please call my cell phone.
*disclaimer* the sabbatical may last longer than two weeks. If that is so, then you may safely assume that I have done one or more of the following:
1. Moved into a cabin in the woods somewhere by myself. (this is the most hopeful scenario in my opinion)
2. Deleted my blog (this is the least likely)
3. Been kidnapped by pirates and held for ransom on a lonesome island. (perhaps unlikely… but very good novel research.)
4. Run out of creativity. (that’s one of the current issues)
5. Been too busy to make time. (less likely, but still an option)
See ya in two weeks. Maybe.
Anyway. I am taking a short-ish sabbatical from the internet and blogging. By “short-ish”, what I mean is “hopefully two weeks.” If you need me, please call my cell phone.
*disclaimer* the sabbatical may last longer than two weeks. If that is so, then you may safely assume that I have done one or more of the following:
1. Moved into a cabin in the woods somewhere by myself. (this is the most hopeful scenario in my opinion)
2. Deleted my blog (this is the least likely)
3. Been kidnapped by pirates and held for ransom on a lonesome island. (perhaps unlikely… but very good novel research.)
4. Run out of creativity. (that’s one of the current issues)
5. Been too busy to make time. (less likely, but still an option)
See ya in two weeks. Maybe.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
In complete armour.
This morning I am sitting, enjoying an early lunch (which might also classify as a late breakfast) drinking the last of Clark’s Paris (which is the last in the house… i’ll weep later) and trying to decide how many petite vanilla bean scones sixty people can consume. (making too many is better than not enough, right?) Whilst I ponder various conundrums, I’ll post a good thought or two, most of which are not my own.
Lately multiple people (i.e. my uncle and my papa and a couple friends) have brought up the fact that Christians often cease to consider their spiritual walk synonymously with a battlefield. There are most certainly days when we feel the pressure and the “call to battle”, as it were, but too often we let our awareness fall by the wayside. This passivity leads to a foothold for temptation, because sooner than we know it, we are simply sidling along, occasionally praying, and reading our Bibles even less. Unpreparedness leads to being blindsided by troubles. What would you think of the soldier who says he is going in to battle, and is dressed in only his uniform, with no guns, no methods of defense, no shields, and no backup? You would beg him to take care, to be more aware, and to take active measures to protect and defend against the enemy. You would think him a fool, and be unsurprised when he is ambushed and caught unawares. You would think him oblivious and naive, to believe that he can walk into a combat situation unprepared, and remain unscathed. The same can be said of the Christian who thinks they can live their life without being fully armed and ready at all times for anything. A lackadaisical, unguarded approach to the Christian life will always prove to be harmful in the end. No Christian can stand without being fully armed, shielded, and defended. Our weapons are stronger than any physical weapons, and equipped with prayer and surrounded by the words from scripture, we can stand.
What kind of sign is it, what kind of devotion, when we only feel a “need” for God when the devil assails us more actively? In any other relationship, this is unheard of. What friend wants to be there only when you need to be bailed out? What spouse wants to only be called on for support in the deepest darkest times, and never wanted when things are easy and pleasant? Our God is not an insurance agent, nor is He some kind of divine genie, only to be pulled out when the going is rough. He is living and near, and always needed. Be wary of the day when you don’t keep Him close to you with prayer and time in your Bible.
And, this from William Gurnall…
Lately multiple people (i.e. my uncle and my papa and a couple friends) have brought up the fact that Christians often cease to consider their spiritual walk synonymously with a battlefield. There are most certainly days when we feel the pressure and the “call to battle”, as it were, but too often we let our awareness fall by the wayside. This passivity leads to a foothold for temptation, because sooner than we know it, we are simply sidling along, occasionally praying, and reading our Bibles even less. Unpreparedness leads to being blindsided by troubles. What would you think of the soldier who says he is going in to battle, and is dressed in only his uniform, with no guns, no methods of defense, no shields, and no backup? You would beg him to take care, to be more aware, and to take active measures to protect and defend against the enemy. You would think him a fool, and be unsurprised when he is ambushed and caught unawares. You would think him oblivious and naive, to believe that he can walk into a combat situation unprepared, and remain unscathed. The same can be said of the Christian who thinks they can live their life without being fully armed and ready at all times for anything. A lackadaisical, unguarded approach to the Christian life will always prove to be harmful in the end. No Christian can stand without being fully armed, shielded, and defended. Our weapons are stronger than any physical weapons, and equipped with prayer and surrounded by the words from scripture, we can stand.
What kind of sign is it, what kind of devotion, when we only feel a “need” for God when the devil assails us more actively? In any other relationship, this is unheard of. What friend wants to be there only when you need to be bailed out? What spouse wants to only be called on for support in the deepest darkest times, and never wanted when things are easy and pleasant? Our God is not an insurance agent, nor is He some kind of divine genie, only to be pulled out when the going is rough. He is living and near, and always needed. Be wary of the day when you don’t keep Him close to you with prayer and time in your Bible.
And, this from William Gurnall…
Secular reason sees a Christian on his knees and laughs at the feeble posture God’s child assumes as his enemies descend upon him. Only divine insight can perceive what mighty preparations are actually taking place. Yet just as an unarmed soldier cannot achieve the military exploits of a well equipped infantryman, so the carnal person cannot hope to do the exploits for God which the committed Christian can expect through prayer. Prayer is the main line that leads straight to the throne of God. By it the Christian approaches God with a humble boldness of faith, takes hold of Him, wrestles with Him, and will not let Him go until he has His blessing…. Meanwhile, the carnal person, asleep to the dangers of his sinful state, rushes headlong into battle with a foolhardy confidence that soon turns yellow when his conscience wakes up and sounds the alarm that his sins are upon him. Then, unnerved by this surprise attack, he throws down his weapon, flees from the presence of God with guilty Adam, and dares not look Him in the face.Then of course, to cap that off….
The Christian in Complete Armour, I: 24-25
I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;Most of the people I know, and probably all of those who read my blog, have already read this, since my second excerpt is out of Voices From The Past. Nonetheless, I am sharing it because I found it helpful this morning. Hopefully you do as well. If not helpful, then at least convicting.
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.
I need Thee every hour, stay Thou nearby;
Temptations lose their power when Thou art nigh.
I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is in vain.
I need Thee every hour; teach me Thy will;
And Thy rich promises in me fulfill.
I need Thee every hour, most Holy One;
O make me Thine indeed, Thou blessèd Son.
Satan always seeks to usurp our territory. By yielding in one temptation, we let the devil into our trench and give him a fair advantage to do us more mischief. An angry man, while he is raging and raving, thinks he will only say so much, but alas while his fury and wrath are rallying, the devil finding the door open, enters and hurries him farther than he ever dreamt of. The best way is to never give him a foothold. Never venture near the door where sin dwells, lest you are dragged in. If you do not wish to be burned, don’t walk upon the coals of temptation. Do not think that you can yield to Satan in one thing and make believe that you will not yield in another. You cannot sit with drunkards and pretend you will not become one. You cannot lend your eyes to unchaste objects and yet be chaste. These are strong delusions. If a man does not have the power to resist the devil in small temptations, what ground does he have that he can in great ones? When a captain directs his soldiers to fight in their ranks, he bids them to stand. Military discipline allows no one to stir from their place without special warrant. every Christian needs to stand where God has placed him. The devil’s method is first to rout and then ruin. We must stay with our own duty and conscientiously attend to it so God will bring us safely to our journey’s end. Paul charged Timothy to give himself wholly to the discharge of his duty. The power of godliness lies in this. It is a contradiction to profess to know God but in your works to deny him. this can never be reconciled. He that is not a Christian in his shop is not a Christian in his closet, and is a hypocrite at church. Wound religion in one part and it is felt in every part. Stand firm!And there you have it. Thanks for putting up with my rambling and excessive quoting… I’m impressed it you made it this far.
William Gurnall, The Christian in Complete Armour, I:278-280
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
It’s abominable, really. I have been shockingly remiss in posting on my poor neglected blog. The thing is, while normally a lack of creativity doesn’t stop me from posting, recently it’s been quite a major deterrent. On occasion, not only is there an atrocious lack of brain power, there’s also a feeling of “empty". I think, “What can I possibly say that would be interesting?”, then I realize that the absence of interesting material has never previously stopped me from throwing things on to my blog without concern for reader or computer. Ergo my current attempt.
If you were one of the people praying for me to get a piano student, thank you. It appears that I will be starting a girl in our church soon. I’m ridiculously excited, to say the least. Now, however, I find myself assailed with doubts and fears. After all, what if I’m not a good teacher? Not everyone has the knack for it, and I can’t say that I envy the poor little children whose lives I could potentially destroy…. Anyhow, I’m happy for the opportunity.
This weekend was quite busy. We catered on Thursday night, then went to the Covenant Christmas Concert. Always nice to hang out with friends. :) After that my mother’s renowned hospitality was extended once again, this time as hostess to a shower welcoming Kari’s sweet baby boy. I still say that my sister being his Godmother makes him my Godnephew, despite assertions to the contrary. Anyway, it was good to meet Caleb Christopher, yet another example of God’s miraculous work in lives around us. It was thrilling to watch the chain of events with the adoption unfold through the last few months. The close of the shower led to throngs of relatives joining the house. Well, ok, perhaps not throngs… just three. Uncle Rich, Aunt Di, and Bekah. And of course four Finks were at our house this weekend as well. Made for a lovely loud time, especially when joined by David and Steffany and their semi-new bundle of joy. Sunday afternoon was a conglomeration of wonderful things. More family (i.e. grandma, grandfather, aunt shell, whitney, dustin, jonathan), friends (i.e. jacob) (although the separation of the two categories is not to imply a mutual exclusivity. I firmly believe that though you can’t choose your family, they often end up in the friend category too), three giant pots of soup, two bundt cakes (one of which is currently screaming my name) and obviously plenty of tea.
Alright. I admit it. While I am not exactly an introvert, I still find myself rather taken aback when total strangers approach and eke out all kinds of information. Such was the case this Sunday, in the midst of our third starbucks trip of the weekend. A [very] friendly man struck up a conversation with some of us, which ended up lasting quite some time. Though not directly involved with this dialogue, I would’ve been failing in my multitasking skills to not listen to nearly every word. While highly respectful of the propensity of coffeeshops to, as it were, “bring people together,” I will admit that multiple times I wanted to lean over to Clark and whisper obscure things like “Don’t tell him anything! He’s probably a foreign spy.” “Look, now he knows where we live and where you work! When he becomes a creepy stalker you’ll regret this!” “Think of your niece and nephew! He’s slowly leaking information out of you about all of us…” The poor man. I’m sure he was just a normal person looking for friends or a group to hang out with, yet in my overly suspicious, occasionally paranoid, and often sceptical mind, he became an information seeking serial killer, on the lookout for his next victim in an innocent family gathering. Even as I realize the improbability of this, I still staunchly maintain that You Can’t Be Too Careful. It’s this same mantra that keeps me from opening the door when the sketchy steak selling man with the big van comes door to door. Or why I let the boy in the Comcast vest stand ringing the doorbell for five minutes, even though I was in his direct line of sight. Perhaps he believed I was deaf? This same, possibly faulty, mentality also stops me from holding the lively conversations with mormons, unless someone else is present, ready to defend when the “burglar within” makes his appearance. After all, it could be someone nefarious simply pretending to be Elder Matthews. Caution, always caution. (I would prefer to ignore that particular mantra when discussing my propensity to go jogging when it’s dark out… I already see the problems existing in that scenario. I just choose to do occasional stupid things. Also, dignity trumps safety at times.)
Already I am running slightly late, and am supposed to be reading from my Bible study book, and making tea to go. Therefore, I leave you with my few disjointed paragraphs and apologize for my scatterbrained manner this evening.
If you were one of the people praying for me to get a piano student, thank you. It appears that I will be starting a girl in our church soon. I’m ridiculously excited, to say the least. Now, however, I find myself assailed with doubts and fears. After all, what if I’m not a good teacher? Not everyone has the knack for it, and I can’t say that I envy the poor little children whose lives I could potentially destroy…. Anyhow, I’m happy for the opportunity.
This weekend was quite busy. We catered on Thursday night, then went to the Covenant Christmas Concert. Always nice to hang out with friends. :) After that my mother’s renowned hospitality was extended once again, this time as hostess to a shower welcoming Kari’s sweet baby boy. I still say that my sister being his Godmother makes him my Godnephew, despite assertions to the contrary. Anyway, it was good to meet Caleb Christopher, yet another example of God’s miraculous work in lives around us. It was thrilling to watch the chain of events with the adoption unfold through the last few months. The close of the shower led to throngs of relatives joining the house. Well, ok, perhaps not throngs… just three. Uncle Rich, Aunt Di, and Bekah. And of course four Finks were at our house this weekend as well. Made for a lovely loud time, especially when joined by David and Steffany and their semi-new bundle of joy. Sunday afternoon was a conglomeration of wonderful things. More family (i.e. grandma, grandfather, aunt shell, whitney, dustin, jonathan), friends (i.e. jacob) (although the separation of the two categories is not to imply a mutual exclusivity. I firmly believe that though you can’t choose your family, they often end up in the friend category too), three giant pots of soup, two bundt cakes (one of which is currently screaming my name) and obviously plenty of tea.
Alright. I admit it. While I am not exactly an introvert, I still find myself rather taken aback when total strangers approach and eke out all kinds of information. Such was the case this Sunday, in the midst of our third starbucks trip of the weekend. A [very] friendly man struck up a conversation with some of us, which ended up lasting quite some time. Though not directly involved with this dialogue, I would’ve been failing in my multitasking skills to not listen to nearly every word. While highly respectful of the propensity of coffeeshops to, as it were, “bring people together,” I will admit that multiple times I wanted to lean over to Clark and whisper obscure things like “Don’t tell him anything! He’s probably a foreign spy.” “Look, now he knows where we live and where you work! When he becomes a creepy stalker you’ll regret this!” “Think of your niece and nephew! He’s slowly leaking information out of you about all of us…” The poor man. I’m sure he was just a normal person looking for friends or a group to hang out with, yet in my overly suspicious, occasionally paranoid, and often sceptical mind, he became an information seeking serial killer, on the lookout for his next victim in an innocent family gathering. Even as I realize the improbability of this, I still staunchly maintain that You Can’t Be Too Careful. It’s this same mantra that keeps me from opening the door when the sketchy steak selling man with the big van comes door to door. Or why I let the boy in the Comcast vest stand ringing the doorbell for five minutes, even though I was in his direct line of sight. Perhaps he believed I was deaf? This same, possibly faulty, mentality also stops me from holding the lively conversations with mormons, unless someone else is present, ready to defend when the “burglar within” makes his appearance. After all, it could be someone nefarious simply pretending to be Elder Matthews. Caution, always caution. (I would prefer to ignore that particular mantra when discussing my propensity to go jogging when it’s dark out… I already see the problems existing in that scenario. I just choose to do occasional stupid things. Also, dignity trumps safety at times.)
Already I am running slightly late, and am supposed to be reading from my Bible study book, and making tea to go. Therefore, I leave you with my few disjointed paragraphs and apologize for my scatterbrained manner this evening.
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