Sometimes I think that too many Christian time management experts consider themselves time managers first and Christians second. In the past year, I have read at least two "how to plan your long-term schedule for maximum effectiveness" articles, written by believers, that failed to even touch on James 4:13-16: "Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that.' As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil" (NIV).
Or as Woody Allen put it, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." Although I doubt that God is actually laughing at me at the moment--at least not in a derogatory manner--I don't find it particularly funny that last night's thunderstorms flooded my apartment parking lot and left a two-inch puddle of water in my car, particularly since I had to interrupt today's carefully planned work schedule to bail it out and then arrange for professional water-damage treatment that wasn't in my budget. I do not have an especially good track record when it comes to joyfully accepting life's frustrations as God's means of building my spiritual maturity.
There's some comfort in knowing that God is never caught off guard and that nothing can spoil His plans. I just wish He would give me a few more details on His plans so I could structure my plans accordingly. There are times when I wonder if any kind of human-level planning falls into the category of "evil boasting," perhaps because I have always had an idolatry problem in that area. I loathe disappointment of any sort; and like the alcoholic who can't be trusted to take a single sip of wine, I tend to take even a small amount of prewritten scheduling and turn it into an obsessive drive, unable to stop for a rest or to accept that sometimes doing things "as planned" is impossible. I have trouble understanding--truly grasping from the heart--that God is more interested in molding me into the image of Christ than in seeing me accomplish the maximum level of obviously productive work. Even if that work is good and necessary and intended for His glory.
Actually, we ourselves, as Christians, are God's greatest work and the greatest testimony to His glory. Although I've frequently been one of those people who insist on learning everything the hard way, at least I rarely throw outright tantrums anymore over spoiled plans. Perhaps the most valuable lesson in this area comes from God's words in Is. 55:9: "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."
It's when we become so attached to our plans that we put our ways and thoughts above God's, that planning becomes evil boasting.
As our lives become mazes of schedules,
As we head off each "maybe" we can,
Let us not lose our eyes for God's guidance
In a drive for "according to plan."
Those who boast of their schemes for the future,
Who presume what will happen to scan,
Are those souls who are worshiping idols
In the form of "according to plan."
Only God knows the things that are coming;
There is no mortal woman or man
Who can see one short hour toward the future--
Things may not go according to plan.
But for those who trust Christ and His Spirit,
And the One through Whom all things began,
There need never be fear of the ending--
God is working according to plan!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
If You Count the Things That You Do Not Have
Are you a natural positive thinker? If so, that in itself is a blessing worth counting. Just please don't look down on those of us who have to work harder at being happy.
Exactly what makes someone a perpetually cheerful soul or a gloom-and-doom pessimist is a question with no obvious or simple answer. Circumstances have relatively little to do with it; there are cheerful cancer patients and miserable socialites. Genetic and chemical makeup are definitely contributing factors; just as some people have natural talent for music or sports, others have natural talent for the sunny outlook. But like most lifestyle tendencies, optimism and pessimism are also heavily nurtured by habit. Feed the mind a steady habit of complaining and looking at the negative--and surround yourself with others who do the same--and soon you'll be hating your whole life as a matter of course.
Considering that the good things in most lives outweigh the bad on any careful examination, it's surprising how many people find it far easier to think negative than positive. Blame advertisers or news reporters if you like, but probably a spirit of dissatisfaction is one of the facts of fallen human nature. And probably nothing that feels so natural makes us so miserable--or accomplishes so little.
God's prescription for curing the gloomy-thinking syndrome? "Count your blessings," as the old song goes. As you go through the list, take time to thank God for each item. Then spend some time thanking and praising Him just for being what He is: kind, all-powerful, merciful, all-knowing, loving, Creator of all... Repeat every time you feel depressed, discouraged, or mad at the world.
When we practice looking at God rather than at circumstances, we better appreciate how much bigger He is than any problem.
If you count the things that you do not have,
You will count yourself ever poor,
Though your savings keep eighteen banks afloat
And gold knockers adorn your door.
For you are a small part of all the world,
So the sum of the things it holds
Always will be far more than what you can clasp,
Though your fate endless wealth unfolds.
So forget the things that you do not have;
Thank the Lord Who made sun and star
For the blessings and treasure He gives to you,
And rejoice in how rich you are!
If you only look at your pains and woes,
They will grow in your frightened mind
Into giants that bar your every path,
And give constant pursuit behind.
But it's not their physical size that counts
In their power to trouble your heart;
It's the size of the doubt that you hold within,
Which just swells once you let it start.
Turn your eyes away from your earthly pains;
Fix your gaze on the Lord of All;
And as you give praise to His glorious might,
You will see life's worst giants fall!
Exactly what makes someone a perpetually cheerful soul or a gloom-and-doom pessimist is a question with no obvious or simple answer. Circumstances have relatively little to do with it; there are cheerful cancer patients and miserable socialites. Genetic and chemical makeup are definitely contributing factors; just as some people have natural talent for music or sports, others have natural talent for the sunny outlook. But like most lifestyle tendencies, optimism and pessimism are also heavily nurtured by habit. Feed the mind a steady habit of complaining and looking at the negative--and surround yourself with others who do the same--and soon you'll be hating your whole life as a matter of course.
Considering that the good things in most lives outweigh the bad on any careful examination, it's surprising how many people find it far easier to think negative than positive. Blame advertisers or news reporters if you like, but probably a spirit of dissatisfaction is one of the facts of fallen human nature. And probably nothing that feels so natural makes us so miserable--or accomplishes so little.
God's prescription for curing the gloomy-thinking syndrome? "Count your blessings," as the old song goes. As you go through the list, take time to thank God for each item. Then spend some time thanking and praising Him just for being what He is: kind, all-powerful, merciful, all-knowing, loving, Creator of all... Repeat every time you feel depressed, discouraged, or mad at the world.
When we practice looking at God rather than at circumstances, we better appreciate how much bigger He is than any problem.
If you count the things that you do not have,
You will count yourself ever poor,
Though your savings keep eighteen banks afloat
And gold knockers adorn your door.
For you are a small part of all the world,
So the sum of the things it holds
Always will be far more than what you can clasp,
Though your fate endless wealth unfolds.
So forget the things that you do not have;
Thank the Lord Who made sun and star
For the blessings and treasure He gives to you,
And rejoice in how rich you are!
If you only look at your pains and woes,
They will grow in your frightened mind
Into giants that bar your every path,
And give constant pursuit behind.
But it's not their physical size that counts
In their power to trouble your heart;
It's the size of the doubt that you hold within,
Which just swells once you let it start.
Turn your eyes away from your earthly pains;
Fix your gaze on the Lord of All;
And as you give praise to His glorious might,
You will see life's worst giants fall!
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Day After Easter
Okay, so technically it's the second day after Easter--but maybe it's even more important now, after we've had all of Monday since the clothes were brand new and the ham and eggs freshly cooked, to remember that celebrating the Resurrection was never meant to be a once-a-year event. We joke about "holiday Christians" who appear at church only on Easter morning and Christmas Eve, but it's not really funny that so many professed believers find worship and fellowship worth no more time than that.
No doubt some such people don't really believe at all; there are those who, though they state outright that it's ridiculous to believe anyone could rise from the dead, continue to attend church on Easter because their families always did it that way. Many other people believe in the Resurrection as a fact of history, yet treat it merely as interesting trivia. Probably the latter are more offensive to God than those who laugh at the whole idea; Scripture's most virulent scoldings are reserved for self-satisfied "religious" types. The NIV uses the word "lukewarm" only once--directed in Rev. 3:16 at church members who lived in blissful ignorance of their failings--and Jesus's reaction (paraphrased) is, "You make Me want to throw up!"
Who could call such a statement unreasonable, considering all He did to give us the best that Heaven could offer? And not just in paying the penalty of our sin for us. Certainly that was infinitely more than we had any right to expect, and required courage and compassion beyond our power to imagine; yet, if that were all He had meant to accomplish, He might have gone straight to Heaven from the Cross. His returning bodily from the grave offered final proof He had conquered death; but I believe its purpose went further than that. By showing Himself revived and revitalized, He was saying to His followers, "As I received new life after death, so I mean for you to receive new power to live in Me after your death to sin. You no longer have to be slaves to old habits, lost in apathy and hopelessness." We can experience eternal life now--not just after physical death--if we are willing to live in constant awareness of Christ's Resurrection. But we need to refresh that awareness far more often than annually.
If you're determined not to believe in the Resurrection, it's silly to go to church even on Easter. If you do believe, it's even more ridiculous to stay home the rest of the year.
The day after Easter,
The eggs all found,
The ham eaten up,
The flowers taken down,
The baskets now emptied,
Church services through,
Will you still remember
What Christ did for you?
The day after Easter,
When your new clothes
Have been broken in
Down to your shoes' toes,
And the fresh-cut lilies
Are starting to fade,
Will you still remember
The price our Lord paid?
No more than forgiveness
Or love or tear
Can just sit and wait
To act once a year--
No more than our sinning
Can stall from taint's grime--
Can true belief's worship
Be saved "till it's time."
The day after Easter,
And all our days,
Let us walk with God
In prayer and in praise:
The spirit of Easter,
In lives made brand new,
And our thanks to Jesus,
Must flow the year through!
No doubt some such people don't really believe at all; there are those who, though they state outright that it's ridiculous to believe anyone could rise from the dead, continue to attend church on Easter because their families always did it that way. Many other people believe in the Resurrection as a fact of history, yet treat it merely as interesting trivia. Probably the latter are more offensive to God than those who laugh at the whole idea; Scripture's most virulent scoldings are reserved for self-satisfied "religious" types. The NIV uses the word "lukewarm" only once--directed in Rev. 3:16 at church members who lived in blissful ignorance of their failings--and Jesus's reaction (paraphrased) is, "You make Me want to throw up!"
Who could call such a statement unreasonable, considering all He did to give us the best that Heaven could offer? And not just in paying the penalty of our sin for us. Certainly that was infinitely more than we had any right to expect, and required courage and compassion beyond our power to imagine; yet, if that were all He had meant to accomplish, He might have gone straight to Heaven from the Cross. His returning bodily from the grave offered final proof He had conquered death; but I believe its purpose went further than that. By showing Himself revived and revitalized, He was saying to His followers, "As I received new life after death, so I mean for you to receive new power to live in Me after your death to sin. You no longer have to be slaves to old habits, lost in apathy and hopelessness." We can experience eternal life now--not just after physical death--if we are willing to live in constant awareness of Christ's Resurrection. But we need to refresh that awareness far more often than annually.
If you're determined not to believe in the Resurrection, it's silly to go to church even on Easter. If you do believe, it's even more ridiculous to stay home the rest of the year.
The day after Easter,
The eggs all found,
The ham eaten up,
The flowers taken down,
The baskets now emptied,
Church services through,
Will you still remember
What Christ did for you?
The day after Easter,
When your new clothes
Have been broken in
Down to your shoes' toes,
And the fresh-cut lilies
Are starting to fade,
Will you still remember
The price our Lord paid?
No more than forgiveness
Or love or tear
Can just sit and wait
To act once a year--
No more than our sinning
Can stall from taint's grime--
Can true belief's worship
Be saved "till it's time."
The day after Easter,
And all our days,
Let us walk with God
In prayer and in praise:
The spirit of Easter,
In lives made brand new,
And our thanks to Jesus,
Must flow the year through!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Where Will You Go for Him?
Easter weekend begins in two days with Maundy Thursday. First comes the night of solemn remembrance, then the day of agony, and finally the morning of joy.
How many of these emotions will we really feel?
Will we come to church on Easter just to "go through the motions," reserving our real enthusiasm for the big meal afterwards? Will we grumble if it rains this Sunday and the only available parking spaces are four blocks from the church? Will we act as if God owes us a perfect day as a reward for showing up?
Many people do all of the above. Not all that surprising, considering that they act the same way on "ordinary" Sundays--and through the rest of the week. From the attitudes of many Christians, one would think that Jesus had said, "I have come that you might live free of trouble, and have all the possessions you want." (What He really said was, "I have come that [you] may have life, and have it to the full. [But] in this world you will have trouble" [John 10:10; 16:33, NIV]). Although few of us would dare state outright, "I owe God nothing, and He owes me everything," our everyday lives say clearly that we believe as much.
Part of the problem is our difficulty with focusing our attention where it belongs. We pat ourselves on the back for being law-abiding citizens and forget how much evil lurks within us. We wear crucifixes as jewelry and never give a thought to the cruelty and agony of that death. And we recite John 3:16 by rote without once considering how unbelievable, how utterly unreasonable, it is that God should love the likes of us even a little, let alone to the extent of enduring what He did--and that His love should continue even though the majority of us respond with appalling ingratitude. That includes those of us who said "yes" to His offer of salvation but whose favorite daily prayer is, "What have You done for me lately?"
If we truly appreciated what He has in fact done for us, we would be more than ready to do anything for Him.
He stumbled down that fateful road
And up that looming hill,
And bore that heavy wooden beam,
All of His own free will,
Among a jeering, cruel crowd
And to a fate so grim:
He went the road of death for you--
Where will you go for Him?
And though a whip had ripped His back
Until His blood ran red,
Though nails had pierced His hands and feet,
And thorns had pierced His head,
And though His throat burned raw with thirst--
Pain wracked His every limb--
He gave His very life for you--
What will you give for Him?
There was no power in all of hell
To stop Love's perfect plan;
There was no power in death itself
To hold the Sinless Man.
When evil's might had done its worst
And brightest hopes burned dim,
He rose up from the dead for you--
Will you rise up for Him?
How many of these emotions will we really feel?
Will we come to church on Easter just to "go through the motions," reserving our real enthusiasm for the big meal afterwards? Will we grumble if it rains this Sunday and the only available parking spaces are four blocks from the church? Will we act as if God owes us a perfect day as a reward for showing up?
Many people do all of the above. Not all that surprising, considering that they act the same way on "ordinary" Sundays--and through the rest of the week. From the attitudes of many Christians, one would think that Jesus had said, "I have come that you might live free of trouble, and have all the possessions you want." (What He really said was, "I have come that [you] may have life, and have it to the full. [But] in this world you will have trouble" [John 10:10; 16:33, NIV]). Although few of us would dare state outright, "I owe God nothing, and He owes me everything," our everyday lives say clearly that we believe as much.
Part of the problem is our difficulty with focusing our attention where it belongs. We pat ourselves on the back for being law-abiding citizens and forget how much evil lurks within us. We wear crucifixes as jewelry and never give a thought to the cruelty and agony of that death. And we recite John 3:16 by rote without once considering how unbelievable, how utterly unreasonable, it is that God should love the likes of us even a little, let alone to the extent of enduring what He did--and that His love should continue even though the majority of us respond with appalling ingratitude. That includes those of us who said "yes" to His offer of salvation but whose favorite daily prayer is, "What have You done for me lately?"
If we truly appreciated what He has in fact done for us, we would be more than ready to do anything for Him.
He stumbled down that fateful road
And up that looming hill,
And bore that heavy wooden beam,
All of His own free will,
Among a jeering, cruel crowd
And to a fate so grim:
He went the road of death for you--
Where will you go for Him?
And though a whip had ripped His back
Until His blood ran red,
Though nails had pierced His hands and feet,
And thorns had pierced His head,
And though His throat burned raw with thirst--
Pain wracked His every limb--
He gave His very life for you--
What will you give for Him?
There was no power in all of hell
To stop Love's perfect plan;
There was no power in death itself
To hold the Sinless Man.
When evil's might had done its worst
And brightest hopes burned dim,
He rose up from the dead for you--
Will you rise up for Him?
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Something More
This past weekend, Houston residents were blessed with what even a cynical soul like myself called perfect weather: two days without a cloud in sight; fresh air; low humidity; and temperatures ranging from slightly chilly to shirt-sleeve. If you ever visit this part of Texas, plan your trip for this time of the year, when outdoor conditions are at the peak of comfort and the birds and wildflowers at their most attractive.
Most of us experience, from time to time, the joy of a "perfect day." Depending on your own taste, that can mean anything from a drive in the country to a grand tour of downtown to a holiday dinner with extended family. However they come wrapped, all "perfect days" have certain things in common: they are unusually free of frustrations and annoyances; they make us forget to watch the clock; and the only regret they leave us with is that they didn't last forever.
Mixed, perhaps, with the regret that they are so rare. By the mere act of standing out, the "perfect" times in our lives are also one more proof of how imperfect the world is as a whole. Maybe that explains those moments when, in the middle of spectacularly beautiful or happy events, we feel sudden bursts of melancholy pain that seem to come unprovoked from nowhere. We can talk all we want about the advantages of less perfect times--they build character, they help us appreciate the good days all the more by contrast--but deep down, we all long for a "perfect day" we will never have to say goodbye to.
Eve gave up our first chance at that possibility when she allowed herself to be tempted into dissatisfaction even in the midst of perfection. We can be grateful that God loved us too much to let that first chance be the last:
"...the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Rom. 8:21-23, NIV). And of the rest of Creation.
Then, all who trust God will finally have that perfect day with no end.
There are few greater joys than a fresh spring day
When the sky is a cloudless blue,
When the air holds a mixture of warmth and chill
And the flowers and the leaves are new.
But if you pause and open your deepest soul
To the beauty of spring's full store,
You will sense a faint ache hidden in the joy,
And a longing for something more.
There are few greater joys than to share a love
With your family or with a friend,
Than to know there is someone you truly trust,
Someone on whom you can depend.
But if you pause and feel in your deepest heart
All that flows as two souls adore,
You will sense faint regret that you yet must part,
And a longing for something more.
All of earth's brightest days pass like setting suns;
And in any two souls that love,
One will die or change heart and so break the bond
At some time in the years that move.
But if you give your soul and your heart to God,
Then one day, on His Heavenly shore,
You will find in Him joy with no hint of ache:
He Himself is our Something More!
Most of us experience, from time to time, the joy of a "perfect day." Depending on your own taste, that can mean anything from a drive in the country to a grand tour of downtown to a holiday dinner with extended family. However they come wrapped, all "perfect days" have certain things in common: they are unusually free of frustrations and annoyances; they make us forget to watch the clock; and the only regret they leave us with is that they didn't last forever.
Mixed, perhaps, with the regret that they are so rare. By the mere act of standing out, the "perfect" times in our lives are also one more proof of how imperfect the world is as a whole. Maybe that explains those moments when, in the middle of spectacularly beautiful or happy events, we feel sudden bursts of melancholy pain that seem to come unprovoked from nowhere. We can talk all we want about the advantages of less perfect times--they build character, they help us appreciate the good days all the more by contrast--but deep down, we all long for a "perfect day" we will never have to say goodbye to.
Eve gave up our first chance at that possibility when she allowed herself to be tempted into dissatisfaction even in the midst of perfection. We can be grateful that God loved us too much to let that first chance be the last:
"...the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Rom. 8:21-23, NIV). And of the rest of Creation.
Then, all who trust God will finally have that perfect day with no end.
There are few greater joys than a fresh spring day
When the sky is a cloudless blue,
When the air holds a mixture of warmth and chill
And the flowers and the leaves are new.
But if you pause and open your deepest soul
To the beauty of spring's full store,
You will sense a faint ache hidden in the joy,
And a longing for something more.
There are few greater joys than to share a love
With your family or with a friend,
Than to know there is someone you truly trust,
Someone on whom you can depend.
But if you pause and feel in your deepest heart
All that flows as two souls adore,
You will sense faint regret that you yet must part,
And a longing for something more.
All of earth's brightest days pass like setting suns;
And in any two souls that love,
One will die or change heart and so break the bond
At some time in the years that move.
But if you give your soul and your heart to God,
Then one day, on His Heavenly shore,
You will find in Him joy with no hint of ache:
He Himself is our Something More!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Through the Strength of Christ We Can Do All Things
Having talked in last week's blog about God's slow-and-steady approach to our spiritual growth, I feel it only fair to give some attention to our own role in the process. There are more than a few Christians who use "waiting on the Lord" as an excuse for ignoring His proddings. ("How can I be sure this impulse is from God? I won't move until He shows me an unmistakable sign--something like a burning bush." "If God wants me to confront this situation, let Him give me the courage first; I won't even start until my last trace of apprehension vanishes.") Instead of being willing to grow through doing, we claim to be no more intelligent than computers, incapable of action until the full software is installed.
That said, we often act less like real-world computers than like science-fiction ones who develop minds of their own and decide their programmers should be the ones taking orders. We pull "I can do everything through him who gives me strength" (Phil. 4:13, NIV) out of its original context (which refers primarily to the strength to experience supernatural joy), and twist it to mean "I can accomplish anything I want if I just ask God to bless my plans." If those plans don't happen to coincide with God's, we sulk or whine or quit speaking to Him. How many chances to grow in Christ have been wasted because the person to whom the opportunity was offered wouldn't look past his or her own immediate wants?
It's true that God wants to do great things in us--and through us. And it's true that He gives us many of our dreams. But often we become so enamored of those dreams that we forget the God Who knows how and when the reality is best accomplished. Even the most spectacular, apparently-God-honoring work may leave God's will and blessing in the dust by becoming an end rather than a means. "Success" can actually be more dangerous than failure, because it's easy to take worldly success as the sole sign of God's approval--and then convince ourselves that as long as prosperity continues, anything we do is all right with God.
Perhaps that's why He allows relatively few of us to experience exceptional wealth and prominence. Better to do holy work quietly in the background than to found a major ministry that comes crashing down in scandal.
Through the strength of Christ we can do all things--
So the holy Scriptures assure us--
But our peace of mind quickly takes to wings
Unless He chooses "all things" for us.
For it's not for sake of our foolish pride
That God gives us strength for the battle,
But for the great Name of our Heavenly Guide,
Whom no earthly distress can rattle.
Through our faith in God we can haul great loads,
If our work is indeed at His giving,
But our feet will fail on the smoothest roads
Unless we stay on His track for living.
And it's not the fact that we see a need
That proves His wish for us to go to it,
For He alone chooses the one for each deed
And assigns to the doer to do it.
If you seek Christ's strength to accomplish much,
But demand the full privilege of choosing;
If you plead for the Spirit's holy touch,
But as only a thing for your using;
If you plan alone what you'd have God bless--
Then your work will fail all the faster.
So when you in prayer future dreams address,
Don't forget Who is always the Master!
That said, we often act less like real-world computers than like science-fiction ones who develop minds of their own and decide their programmers should be the ones taking orders. We pull "I can do everything through him who gives me strength" (Phil. 4:13, NIV) out of its original context (which refers primarily to the strength to experience supernatural joy), and twist it to mean "I can accomplish anything I want if I just ask God to bless my plans." If those plans don't happen to coincide with God's, we sulk or whine or quit speaking to Him. How many chances to grow in Christ have been wasted because the person to whom the opportunity was offered wouldn't look past his or her own immediate wants?
It's true that God wants to do great things in us--and through us. And it's true that He gives us many of our dreams. But often we become so enamored of those dreams that we forget the God Who knows how and when the reality is best accomplished. Even the most spectacular, apparently-God-honoring work may leave God's will and blessing in the dust by becoming an end rather than a means. "Success" can actually be more dangerous than failure, because it's easy to take worldly success as the sole sign of God's approval--and then convince ourselves that as long as prosperity continues, anything we do is all right with God.
Perhaps that's why He allows relatively few of us to experience exceptional wealth and prominence. Better to do holy work quietly in the background than to found a major ministry that comes crashing down in scandal.
Through the strength of Christ we can do all things--
So the holy Scriptures assure us--
But our peace of mind quickly takes to wings
Unless He chooses "all things" for us.
For it's not for sake of our foolish pride
That God gives us strength for the battle,
But for the great Name of our Heavenly Guide,
Whom no earthly distress can rattle.
Through our faith in God we can haul great loads,
If our work is indeed at His giving,
But our feet will fail on the smoothest roads
Unless we stay on His track for living.
And it's not the fact that we see a need
That proves His wish for us to go to it,
For He alone chooses the one for each deed
And assigns to the doer to do it.
If you seek Christ's strength to accomplish much,
But demand the full privilege of choosing;
If you plead for the Spirit's holy touch,
But as only a thing for your using;
If you plan alone what you'd have God bless--
Then your work will fail all the faster.
So when you in prayer future dreams address,
Don't forget Who is always the Master!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Down the Long Road
When life got frustrating, my father used to quip, "I know God won't let my troubles get worse than I can cope with [cf. 1 Cor. 10:13]; I just wish He didn't have so much confidence in me."
True to heritage, I frequently say the same thing--often directly to God. Then I feel guilty because the majority of my prayers resemble "complaining psalms" more than thanksgiving or praise. (Sometimes I wonder if God allows me to be tempted to bad moods so often because that's the only time I give Him much attention!) My fortieth birthday is tomorrow--but at the rate I'm going, I'll need another forty years to achieve much maturity beyond the physical.
Keeping us waiting is such a typical way of working for God--and so contrary to human logic. It's relatively easy to understand (in principle at least) how delay in receiving material blessings builds Christian character by developing patience, maturity, and faith. What's harder to figure out is why prayer for those qualities themselves is usually the slowest to be answered. Is it beyond even God's power to give us "patience right now"? Why is our own willingness for instant and total change rarely enough? Doesn't God care about the bad decisions we make, the damage we inflict on ourselves, the pain we cause others, as we make our way along the "slow and steady" path?
Maybe He cares even more about our willingness to stay on that path. As a top-level member of the "everything is all about results" club, I'm only gradually (there's that concept again) coming to understand that with God, the journey itself counts for plenty. Small wonder, perhaps, that we have trouble understanding that in an era when long-distance train and even car travel has been all but crowded out in favor of making better time by air--never mind that the latter makes for a generally grumpy atmosphere with its long security checks, delayed flights, crowded quarters, and you've-seen-one-shopping-mall-you've-seen-them-all airports. Yes, ground-level travel has its own boredom headaches--as any parent who has driven a carload of children across five states can attest--but it also offers more interesting scenery, more freedom of movement and/or choice, and more opportunities for bonding with fellow travelers.
Therein may lie the clue to why our spiritual journeys are so long and hard. That may in fact be the only way to build true, deep bonds with our neighbors--and with our God.
Which is really "what it's all about."
My God must have considerably
A greater depth of faith in me
Than I myself hope to attain--
What other way can I explain
(Considering He gave His Word
That every prayer is always heard
And no temptation brings us down)
The stress within me and around?
Not that my problems are so great
That I can at my worst relate
To some that others have to bear--
Still, hard knocks greet me everywhere.
Some say small doses of "tough breaks"
Build up our strength for deeper aches--
There's little comfort there for me:
I'd rather pass on both, you see!
And yet I know, through every trial,
Or every plodding, weary mile,
My God will walk along with me,
And slowly turn my heart to see
Life's not about pure "happiness,"
Nor living free from strain and stress,
Nor even quick maturity--
But all about my God with me!
True to heritage, I frequently say the same thing--often directly to God. Then I feel guilty because the majority of my prayers resemble "complaining psalms" more than thanksgiving or praise. (Sometimes I wonder if God allows me to be tempted to bad moods so often because that's the only time I give Him much attention!) My fortieth birthday is tomorrow--but at the rate I'm going, I'll need another forty years to achieve much maturity beyond the physical.
Keeping us waiting is such a typical way of working for God--and so contrary to human logic. It's relatively easy to understand (in principle at least) how delay in receiving material blessings builds Christian character by developing patience, maturity, and faith. What's harder to figure out is why prayer for those qualities themselves is usually the slowest to be answered. Is it beyond even God's power to give us "patience right now"? Why is our own willingness for instant and total change rarely enough? Doesn't God care about the bad decisions we make, the damage we inflict on ourselves, the pain we cause others, as we make our way along the "slow and steady" path?
Maybe He cares even more about our willingness to stay on that path. As a top-level member of the "everything is all about results" club, I'm only gradually (there's that concept again) coming to understand that with God, the journey itself counts for plenty. Small wonder, perhaps, that we have trouble understanding that in an era when long-distance train and even car travel has been all but crowded out in favor of making better time by air--never mind that the latter makes for a generally grumpy atmosphere with its long security checks, delayed flights, crowded quarters, and you've-seen-one-shopping-mall-you've-seen-them-all airports. Yes, ground-level travel has its own boredom headaches--as any parent who has driven a carload of children across five states can attest--but it also offers more interesting scenery, more freedom of movement and/or choice, and more opportunities for bonding with fellow travelers.
Therein may lie the clue to why our spiritual journeys are so long and hard. That may in fact be the only way to build true, deep bonds with our neighbors--and with our God.
Which is really "what it's all about."
My God must have considerably
A greater depth of faith in me
Than I myself hope to attain--
What other way can I explain
(Considering He gave His Word
That every prayer is always heard
And no temptation brings us down)
The stress within me and around?
Not that my problems are so great
That I can at my worst relate
To some that others have to bear--
Still, hard knocks greet me everywhere.
Some say small doses of "tough breaks"
Build up our strength for deeper aches--
There's little comfort there for me:
I'd rather pass on both, you see!
And yet I know, through every trial,
Or every plodding, weary mile,
My God will walk along with me,
And slowly turn my heart to see
Life's not about pure "happiness,"
Nor living free from strain and stress,
Nor even quick maturity--
But all about my God with me!
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