Here’s a scenario for you. Person A says to Person B: “Hey, you should come hiking with me some time!” Person B smiles, ducks their head, and modestly responds, “Oh, I would love to, but really, I am so out of shape!” then gives a cute little self-deprecating giggle. When the time to hike comes, Person B dons their hiking boots (which they of course purchased at the REI garage sale), their designer sweatpants, and sportily carries along a Nalgene waterbottle. Then, to the astonishment of (self-proclaimed “in-shape”) Person A, who fully expected them to be hiking at a slow and laborious rate, Person B goes trotting up the side of a mountain, smiling, talking, and barely getting out of breath. Person A is astonished that they didn’t even have to adjust their normal rapid pace to accommodate Person B.
I am not Person B.
Meet Person C, who didn’t make their way into the previous scenario. Person C hears about hiking, and thinks to herself, “Oh, wow, I would LOVE to do that, as long as there is a view at the top.” Person C vaguely wonders what it would be like to be in shape. She then gets invited by Person A to go hiking, on an “easy hike”, and says, “Oh, I would love to, but really, I am SOOOOO out of shape!” However, since Person C is a trooper, she decides to give this getting-in-shape thing a try. After all, how hard can it be? Surely your muscles can keep working as long as you can breathe. When the time to hike comes, Person C digs around to find her old broken down tennishoes, any available pair of sweatpants, and, if she’s lucky, some socks that won’t slip down into the shoes halfway through the hike. Person A is thrilled to get Person C to come, and firmly believes that Person C can’t be as out of shape as she claims.
I am Person C.
Yes, that was me you saw, falling up the side of a mountain the other day. Why yes, I was the one leaning against the car for more than fifteen minutes after all the other intrepid hikers had energetically pulled away. That girl who was gasping as if it were her last breath, only two minutes into the hike? Me. That chick who barely pushed out monosyllabic answers in between ragged steps? Me.
And yes, it was me who stopped everyone halfway through, gasping out enthusiastically “Look at this VIEW!” Then, after everyone stopped, realized that there is no view from here; there were only thick forests surrounding us. I shrugged, and said, “Well, it’s all so green and pretty,” and stalled long enough to barely catch a breath. After my heart stopped beating in my eardrums, I closed my eyes tightly and started to take another painful step.
If you wondered why I didn’t start stretching immediately afterward, it’s because it was all I could do to merely stay upright. And you know how I wasn’t making eye contact with you? It wasn’t because I hate you for dragging me up the mountain at an unhealthy speed, it’s because my ears are buzzing and my sight is getting fuzzy so I can’t even really see your eyes. I didn’t answer your question, because all I know is that you were talking; it was physically impossible for me to focus on actual words, let alone comprehend a full sentence. Your joke was hilarious, and you thought I only gave a courtesy laugh and grimace… In reality, that weird sounding laugh was genuine, and the grimace was the closest I could come to a beautiful smile. You may have glanced down the trail and thought I was glaring daggers at your back, but really… Oh wait. I was. Getting caught up in agony and gasping and a pounding heart and aching muscles was just enough to lead me to indulge in a moment of anger. Anyone ahead of me on the trail is usually the focus of that irrational ire, especially if they have the gall to be both “in shape” and cheerful.
But actually, I did enjoy the hike. Well, I liked taking a cool shower later, anyway. And I enjoyed the company… for a few cognizant moments. In all seriousness, though, I DO want to do it again. If you are ever one of the unfortunate people who I finagle into hiking with me, you should know that while you are hiking competently, I will be stumbling up the trail behind you, wondering what you would do if I just fell over the edge and didn’t get up again. If you ask me to go hiking, on an easy hike, I might hem and haw. The cause of this? I am severely embarrassed by my lack of athletic prowess, and sincerely regret the inconvenience that experienced hikers are put to when I come along. Those two things are the sole causes of my hesitation.
If you have ever been where I am right now (i.e., very much out of shape), you understand everything I wrote perfectly, and have sympathy for me. You understand all my sentiments, and know what it’s like to struggle towards a goal at the top of a mountain. If not, and you are one of those paragons of atheticism that I so resent, then you are astonished at all these paragraphs of absolute gibberish, and are thinking “What? Hiking is FUN! Going up a steep trail is GREAT! Running down the mountain afterward makes me feel like the picture on an REI ad!” Hopefully, you are somewhere in between, and have both a deep appreciation for the transitional pain I’m going through, and the triumph I may someday achieve.
I am excited at the idea of getting in shape— it remains to be seen if I enjoy the reality. Someday, you will get on my blog and see a post called “The joys to be found in the outdoors,” (or some such ridiculous title) and it will be full of oozing happiness at the latest hike I went on. Hopefully I survive to see that day...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
This from Richard Baxter, via Voices From the Past, via Richard Rushing. :)
I thought this was, well, FABULOUS.
I thought this was, well, FABULOUS.
“For whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.” Romans 14:23
Whenever you feel the least motion toward disobedience, meet it with an army of holy graces—zeal, courage, and love to God. Quench every spark that falls upon your hearts before it breaks into flame. When sin is little and weak, it can be easily resisted. When temptationAnd there you have it.grows strong, grace grows weak and we lack the sense of God’s presence, attributes, and truths to rebuke it. O, do not drift out of the range of God’s voice, straying beyond His call. The habit of obedience will be dangerously abated, if you do not resist quickly the acts of sin. Labour for a clear understanding of God’s will that you will not delay in your obedience through doubt. If you doubt whether sin is sin, this weakens your resolve so that you are willing to draw near to it. When a man is sure of his duty, it is a great help against all temptations. When he is sure a thing is sinful, it is easier to resist. It is the devil’s method to delude the understanding, and make men believe that duty is no duty, and sin is no sin. It is no wonder that duties are neglected and sin is committed. It is almost incredible how much ground the devil takes when he has once made sin a matter of controversy: some are of one mind, and some of another; you are of one opinion and I am of another. If it were ever a controversy whether drunkenness, sexual promiscuity, swearing, stealing, or any villainy were a sin or not, it would be committed more commonly and with much less regret of conscience. By this means, good men themselves are dangerously disabled to resist sin, and are more prepared to commit it. take heed lest the devil cast you into this sleep of carnal security. When you are in a careless sleep, obedience seems a tiresome thing; like a tired horse, you don’t feel the spur. You are half-conquered, and have lost your love for obedience and are in danger to yield at last.
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Hitting the books…
I admit it. When I think “I’m going to sit down and read something edifying tonight"… J.I. Packer isn’t what comes to my mind. He’s a good guy, and has written good stuff, but there are other issues there… However, I recently started reading John Owen’s “The Death of Death in the Death of Christ,” and of course it would be insupportable to skip the introductory essay by Packer. After beginning it, I think I could say that it is one of the finest explanations of Calvinism that I have heard in a few concise paragraphs. (And it’s a good thing he is concise—for I am not!) I’m not going to quote his explanation of the five points of Calvinism, or the historical background he gives, but rather an introductory paragraph, and then his broader picture of Calvinism that I really liked.
“There is no doubt that Evangelicalism today is in a state of perplexity and unsettlement. In such matters as the practice of evangelism, the teaching of holiness, the building up of local church life, the pastor’s dealing with souls and the exercise of discipline, there is evidence of widespread dissatisfaction with things as they are and of equally widespread uncertainty as to the road ahead. … If we go to the root of the matter, we shall find that these perplexities are all ultimately due to our having lost our grip on the biblical gospel…..{and so they have begun to preach a newer gospel} the new gospel conspicuously fails to produce deep reverence, deep repentance, deep humility, a spirit of worship, a concern for the church. Why? We would suggest that the reason lies in its own character and content. It fails to make men God-centred in their thoughts and God-fearing in their hearts because this is not primarily what it is trying to do…. whereas the chief aim of the old (gospel) was to teach men to worship God, the concern of the new seems limited to making them feel better. The subject of the old gospel was God and His ways with men; the subject of the new is man and the help God gives him… The whole perspective and emphasis of gospel preaching has changed…. Accordingly, the themes of man’s natural inability to believe, of God’s free election being the ultimate cause of salvation, and of Christ dying specifically for his sheep, are not preached. These doctrines, it would be said, are not “helpful”; they would drive sinners to despair, by suggesting to them that it is not in their own power to be saved through Christ…. The result of these omissions is that part of the biblical gospel is now preached as if it were the whole of that gospel; and a half-truth masquerading as the whole truth becomes a complete untruth.”
Then he presents this, on Calvinism, after explaining the five points. (TULIP)
“In the first place, Calvinism is something much broader than the “five points” indicate. Calvinism is a whole world-view, stemming from a clear vision of God as the whole world’s Maker and King. Calvinism is the consistent endeavour to acknowledge the Creator as the Lord, working all things after the counsel of His will. Calvinism is a theocentric way of thinking about all life under the direction and control of God’s own Word. Calvinism, in other words, is the theology of the Bible viewed from the perspective of the Bible—the God-centred outlook which sees the Creator as the source, and means, and end, of everything that is, both in nature and in grace. Calvinism is thus theism (belief in God as the ground of all things), Religion (dependence on God as the giver of all things), and evangelicalism (trust in God through Christ for all things), all in their purest and most highly developed form. And Calvinism is a unified philosophy of history which sees the whole diversity of processes and events that take place in God’s world as no more, and no less, than the outworking of His great preordained plan for His creatures and His church. The five points assert no more than that God is sovereign in saving the individual, but Calvinism, as such, is concerned with the much broader assertion that He is sovereign everywhere.”
And that concludes my stint from Packer. However, I of course must add something more. I am quite thankful for a father that comes in and says “Wanna read me something good?” To which I reply “I’d love to—what did you have in mind?” And Spurgeon was the pick of the night. As to what particular choice-- his sermon preached on July 5, 1857, in the music hall of the Surrey Gardens. (it’s out of Volumes III-IV of the New Park Street Pulpit series). I thought this excerpt particularly good, and moving. The text was “And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me.” – John xii, 32. The excerpt is in the context of his first point, which is that “Christ’s crucifixion was His glory.”
“Now, the cross of Christ is Christ’s glory. We will show you how. Man seeks to win his glory by the slaughter of others—Christ by the slaughter of himself: men seek to get crowns of gold—he sought a crown of thorns: men think that glory lieth in being exalted over others—Christ thought that his glory did lie in becoming “a worm and no man,” a scoff and reproach amongst all that beheld Him. He stooped when He conquered; and He counted that the glory lay as much in the stooping as in the conquest…..And once again, Christ looked upon his crucifixion with the eye of firm faith as the hour of triumph. His disciples thought that the cross would be a degradation; Christ looked through the outward and visible, and beheld the spiritual. “The cross,” said He, “the gibbet of my doom may seem to be cursed with ignominy, and the world shall stand round and hiss at the crucified; my name be forever dishonored as one who died upon the tree; and cavillers and scoffers may forever throw this in the teeth of my friends that I died with the malefactor; but I look not at the cross as you do. I know its ignominy, but I despise the shame—I am prepared to endure it all. I look up on the cross as a gate of triumph, as the portal of victory. Oh, shall I tell you what I shall behold upon the cross? Just when mine eye is swimming with the last tear, and when my heart is palpitating with its last pang; just when my body is rent with its last thrill of anguish, then mine eye shall see the head of the dragon broken, it shall see hell’s towers dismantled and its castle fallen. Mine eye shall see my seed eternally saved, I shall behold the ransomed coming from their prison houses. In that last moment of my doom, when my mouth is preparing for its last cry of “it is finished!;’ I shall behold the year of my redeemed come, I shall shout my triumph in the delivery of all my beloved! Ay, and I shall see then, the world, mine own earth conquered, and usurpers all disthroned, and I shall behold in vision the glories of the latter days, when I shall sit upon the throne of my father David and judge the earth, attended with the pomp of angels and the shouts of my beloved!” Yes, Christ saw in his cross the victories of it, and therefore did he pant and long for it as being the place of victory and the means of conquest. “I,” said Jesus, “if I be lifted up, if I be exalted;” he puts his crucifixion as being His glory.”
There you have it.
“There is no doubt that Evangelicalism today is in a state of perplexity and unsettlement. In such matters as the practice of evangelism, the teaching of holiness, the building up of local church life, the pastor’s dealing with souls and the exercise of discipline, there is evidence of widespread dissatisfaction with things as they are and of equally widespread uncertainty as to the road ahead. … If we go to the root of the matter, we shall find that these perplexities are all ultimately due to our having lost our grip on the biblical gospel…..{and so they have begun to preach a newer gospel} the new gospel conspicuously fails to produce deep reverence, deep repentance, deep humility, a spirit of worship, a concern for the church. Why? We would suggest that the reason lies in its own character and content. It fails to make men God-centred in their thoughts and God-fearing in their hearts because this is not primarily what it is trying to do…. whereas the chief aim of the old (gospel) was to teach men to worship God, the concern of the new seems limited to making them feel better. The subject of the old gospel was God and His ways with men; the subject of the new is man and the help God gives him… The whole perspective and emphasis of gospel preaching has changed…. Accordingly, the themes of man’s natural inability to believe, of God’s free election being the ultimate cause of salvation, and of Christ dying specifically for his sheep, are not preached. These doctrines, it would be said, are not “helpful”; they would drive sinners to despair, by suggesting to them that it is not in their own power to be saved through Christ…. The result of these omissions is that part of the biblical gospel is now preached as if it were the whole of that gospel; and a half-truth masquerading as the whole truth becomes a complete untruth.”
Then he presents this, on Calvinism, after explaining the five points. (TULIP)
“In the first place, Calvinism is something much broader than the “five points” indicate. Calvinism is a whole world-view, stemming from a clear vision of God as the whole world’s Maker and King. Calvinism is the consistent endeavour to acknowledge the Creator as the Lord, working all things after the counsel of His will. Calvinism is a theocentric way of thinking about all life under the direction and control of God’s own Word. Calvinism, in other words, is the theology of the Bible viewed from the perspective of the Bible—the God-centred outlook which sees the Creator as the source, and means, and end, of everything that is, both in nature and in grace. Calvinism is thus theism (belief in God as the ground of all things), Religion (dependence on God as the giver of all things), and evangelicalism (trust in God through Christ for all things), all in their purest and most highly developed form. And Calvinism is a unified philosophy of history which sees the whole diversity of processes and events that take place in God’s world as no more, and no less, than the outworking of His great preordained plan for His creatures and His church. The five points assert no more than that God is sovereign in saving the individual, but Calvinism, as such, is concerned with the much broader assertion that He is sovereign everywhere.”
And that concludes my stint from Packer. However, I of course must add something more. I am quite thankful for a father that comes in and says “Wanna read me something good?” To which I reply “I’d love to—what did you have in mind?” And Spurgeon was the pick of the night. As to what particular choice-- his sermon preached on July 5, 1857, in the music hall of the Surrey Gardens. (it’s out of Volumes III-IV of the New Park Street Pulpit series). I thought this excerpt particularly good, and moving. The text was “And I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me.” – John xii, 32. The excerpt is in the context of his first point, which is that “Christ’s crucifixion was His glory.”
“Now, the cross of Christ is Christ’s glory. We will show you how. Man seeks to win his glory by the slaughter of others—Christ by the slaughter of himself: men seek to get crowns of gold—he sought a crown of thorns: men think that glory lieth in being exalted over others—Christ thought that his glory did lie in becoming “a worm and no man,” a scoff and reproach amongst all that beheld Him. He stooped when He conquered; and He counted that the glory lay as much in the stooping as in the conquest…..And once again, Christ looked upon his crucifixion with the eye of firm faith as the hour of triumph. His disciples thought that the cross would be a degradation; Christ looked through the outward and visible, and beheld the spiritual. “The cross,” said He, “the gibbet of my doom may seem to be cursed with ignominy, and the world shall stand round and hiss at the crucified; my name be forever dishonored as one who died upon the tree; and cavillers and scoffers may forever throw this in the teeth of my friends that I died with the malefactor; but I look not at the cross as you do. I know its ignominy, but I despise the shame—I am prepared to endure it all. I look up on the cross as a gate of triumph, as the portal of victory. Oh, shall I tell you what I shall behold upon the cross? Just when mine eye is swimming with the last tear, and when my heart is palpitating with its last pang; just when my body is rent with its last thrill of anguish, then mine eye shall see the head of the dragon broken, it shall see hell’s towers dismantled and its castle fallen. Mine eye shall see my seed eternally saved, I shall behold the ransomed coming from their prison houses. In that last moment of my doom, when my mouth is preparing for its last cry of “it is finished!;’ I shall behold the year of my redeemed come, I shall shout my triumph in the delivery of all my beloved! Ay, and I shall see then, the world, mine own earth conquered, and usurpers all disthroned, and I shall behold in vision the glories of the latter days, when I shall sit upon the throne of my father David and judge the earth, attended with the pomp of angels and the shouts of my beloved!” Yes, Christ saw in his cross the victories of it, and therefore did he pant and long for it as being the place of victory and the means of conquest. “I,” said Jesus, “if I be lifted up, if I be exalted;” he puts his crucifixion as being His glory.”
There you have it.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Life of late… In photos.
This happened! Engaged March 12, and Jacob and Liz got married on June 18. Rache and I were in the wedding…
And I took their engagement pictures… :)
And we saw a lot of THIS waterfall lately… Plan to go again on Sunday.
Ate lots of THESE… Mom was experimenting w/ frosting flavors. Irish cream!
Did a little bit of reading… as did the guys…
Went on a vacation—Here are just a few from that.
Took a few drives…
And took a night shot or two.
Finally, of course we spent plenty of time with the kiddos..
And that makes for a pretty good few months, in my opinion.
Now you know the rest of the story.
And I took their engagement pictures… :)
And we saw a lot of THIS waterfall lately… Plan to go again on Sunday.
Ate lots of THESE… Mom was experimenting w/ frosting flavors. Irish cream!
Did a little bit of reading… as did the guys…
Went on a vacation—Here are just a few from that.
Took a few drives…
And took a night shot or two.
Finally, of course we spent plenty of time with the kiddos..
And that makes for a pretty good few months, in my opinion.
Now you know the rest of the story.
Monday, June 20, 2011
A few weeks ago my aunt died. At the time no deep observations struck me; only the usual immediate feelings assailed me, and still are. After a few days, though, and lots of thinking combined with emotion, several things have been heavy on my heart, but they can all be summed up with one phrase: We will all meet God.
My aunt was only 67. My grandparents are both well into their 80’s, so that seems like quite a young age to pass away at. The young age brought me to some more thoughts. I think most people tend to presume that they will be able to put off important things. “I don’t need to be disciplined about that now; I can do that when I’m a little older.” The cold hard fact is, though, that no one knows the day or the hour in which their soul will be required of them. In that moment, there is no place for procrastination. You can put off the dealings of your soul for no longer. There is no time to say “Wait, Lord, let me do this first,” or “I was going to START reading my Bible,” or “Give me time to deal with this sin.” Your account must be settled before you are kneeling before His throne. In that moment, there is no more chance for mercy. During those seconds, you must stand before the Almighty God and be held accountable for what you did or did not do during the fleeting moments you had on earth. God does not call us to a lackadaisical approach to Christianity. He does not ask us to only show up at church on Sunday, and live our lives as the world does, with only a tip of the hat to holiness. He does not call us to a cultural Christianity, where we can claim the name of “Christian” yet live with no devotion to Christ. This last Sunday, the pastor (filling in for my dad) mentioned that in our culture people tend to view God as some kind of band-aid to patch up all their problems. You feel like something’s wrong, so you approach Christ as a temporary fix. That is not the Biblical view of Christ.
At the funeral, I was mourning for my aunt. Also, I was mourning for the loss of an era—that of my grandparents. This last week has brought back a multitude of memories that were made with my papa’s parents. My grandma died ten years ago, along with another of my aunts. Since that time, family gatherings with the Edwards side of the family became few and far between. Standing in my Aunt’s house created a sense of déjà vu. I hadn’t been there in probably ten years or so, and it was a strange reminiscent feeling. I expected it to be as it used to be. Needless to say, it was not. I think, that for many people, loss is a distant concept. It has been for me at times in the past. Then, one day, it becomes something that is there, close, and seeming not very real. But for a few moments at least, you are forced to face loss, think about it, and deal with it. It fades, but will always there in the background.
I mourn because my papa lost another of his sisters, and now he and his last sister are all that remains of my grandparents family. But also I mourn because I was so rarely bold about the gospel. We don’t expect that our relatives will be suddenly taken, and when they are, it occurs to you that you have often been reticent in the sharing of the Word with them. My dad did a phenomenal job at the funeral. First he did a short biography of my aunt, and after that he did something much more important—Gave a clear, forceful presentation of the gospel. He pointed out that we are all sinners, that we have a warning in this life, and no more chances in the next. After that he explained what you do about it. Everyone in that room heard the most important things they will ever hear. The Word was spoken, and won’t return void.
There is a song by This Hope that I heard again recently, and it seemed quite fitting.
Someday soon, there’s going to be a great reunion by the sea,
I’ll see my Jesus, cross the water, spread His arms to carry me.
I’m going home, to be with Jesus; I’m going home to see my Lord.
Don’t you worry, don’t you cry. I’m going home now, to the other side.
Someday soon, He’ll read my name, and call me home where there’s no pain,
Nor more crying, and no more sorrow; land where milk and honey flow.
I’m going home to be with Jesus, I’m going home to see my Lord.
Don’t you worry, don’t you cry; I’m going home now to the other side.
My aunt was only 67. My grandparents are both well into their 80’s, so that seems like quite a young age to pass away at. The young age brought me to some more thoughts. I think most people tend to presume that they will be able to put off important things. “I don’t need to be disciplined about that now; I can do that when I’m a little older.” The cold hard fact is, though, that no one knows the day or the hour in which their soul will be required of them. In that moment, there is no place for procrastination. You can put off the dealings of your soul for no longer. There is no time to say “Wait, Lord, let me do this first,” or “I was going to START reading my Bible,” or “Give me time to deal with this sin.” Your account must be settled before you are kneeling before His throne. In that moment, there is no more chance for mercy. During those seconds, you must stand before the Almighty God and be held accountable for what you did or did not do during the fleeting moments you had on earth. God does not call us to a lackadaisical approach to Christianity. He does not ask us to only show up at church on Sunday, and live our lives as the world does, with only a tip of the hat to holiness. He does not call us to a cultural Christianity, where we can claim the name of “Christian” yet live with no devotion to Christ. This last Sunday, the pastor (filling in for my dad) mentioned that in our culture people tend to view God as some kind of band-aid to patch up all their problems. You feel like something’s wrong, so you approach Christ as a temporary fix. That is not the Biblical view of Christ.
At the funeral, I was mourning for my aunt. Also, I was mourning for the loss of an era—that of my grandparents. This last week has brought back a multitude of memories that were made with my papa’s parents. My grandma died ten years ago, along with another of my aunts. Since that time, family gatherings with the Edwards side of the family became few and far between. Standing in my Aunt’s house created a sense of déjà vu. I hadn’t been there in probably ten years or so, and it was a strange reminiscent feeling. I expected it to be as it used to be. Needless to say, it was not. I think, that for many people, loss is a distant concept. It has been for me at times in the past. Then, one day, it becomes something that is there, close, and seeming not very real. But for a few moments at least, you are forced to face loss, think about it, and deal with it. It fades, but will always there in the background.
I mourn because my papa lost another of his sisters, and now he and his last sister are all that remains of my grandparents family. But also I mourn because I was so rarely bold about the gospel. We don’t expect that our relatives will be suddenly taken, and when they are, it occurs to you that you have often been reticent in the sharing of the Word with them. My dad did a phenomenal job at the funeral. First he did a short biography of my aunt, and after that he did something much more important—Gave a clear, forceful presentation of the gospel. He pointed out that we are all sinners, that we have a warning in this life, and no more chances in the next. After that he explained what you do about it. Everyone in that room heard the most important things they will ever hear. The Word was spoken, and won’t return void.
There is a song by This Hope that I heard again recently, and it seemed quite fitting.
Someday soon, there’s going to be a great reunion by the sea,
I’ll see my Jesus, cross the water, spread His arms to carry me.
I’m going home, to be with Jesus; I’m going home to see my Lord.
Don’t you worry, don’t you cry. I’m going home now, to the other side.
Someday soon, He’ll read my name, and call me home where there’s no pain,
Nor more crying, and no more sorrow; land where milk and honey flow.
I’m going home to be with Jesus, I’m going home to see my Lord.
Don’t you worry, don’t you cry; I’m going home now to the other side.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Alright. I am gearing up and planning. Some important things, like planning piano lesson stuff, and some less important things… such as formulating a list of books I want or need to read. I should be practicing the piano, but my fingers haven’t been working lately, as evidenced by my destruction of offertory two weeks ago.
Two factors are stopping this from being a long blog. First of all, I just worked out, and think I pulled a muscle…. Or several muscles. Therefore, I am quite tired. The second thing is the fact that I heard a sermon this week on pride, and he brought out how elements of technology such as facebook and blogs do nothing but provide a platform for pride and self glorification. After that, I can’t write one of my weird narratives.
So I give you this. It’s what I needed to hear tonight as well.
Two factors are stopping this from being a long blog. First of all, I just worked out, and think I pulled a muscle…. Or several muscles. Therefore, I am quite tired. The second thing is the fact that I heard a sermon this week on pride, and he brought out how elements of technology such as facebook and blogs do nothing but provide a platform for pride and self glorification. After that, I can’t write one of my weird narratives.
So I give you this. It’s what I needed to hear tonight as well.
His grace is enough for me.
In my weakness, His power is made complete.
When I find my strength is gone, He’s the rock I rest upon.
His grace is enough for me.
… So when trials overwhelm me, and I cannot carry on,
I know that when I’m weak, then He is strong.
His grace is enough for me.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
A good reminder…
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
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.
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