I'm sorry.
I'm a narcissist. I'm sorry.
I'm insincere. I'm sorry.
I use people. I'm sorry.
I live a life full of hate. I'm sorry.
I despise people over petty things. I'm sorry.
I'm arrogant. I'm sorry.
I'm avaricious. I'm sorry.
I say and do things to make myself feel superior. I'm sorry.
I spew venom from my mouth. I'm sorry.
I ignore your needs. I'm sorry.
I think I know what's best for everyone. I'm sorry.
I'm prideful. I'm sorry.
I'm self-righteous. I'm sorry.
I take my blessings for granted. I'm sorry.
I don't act like I love God. I'm sorry.
I act as if God doesn't exist. I'm sorry.
I walk on the other side of the road. I'm sorry.
I'm very proud of myself for writing this. I'm sorry.
I'm trying.
I will know that you are more important than me. I'm trying.
I will say what I mean. I'm trying.
I will be sacrificial. I'm trying.
I will return your love and love you for who you are. I'm trying.
I will realize the little things are stupid. I'm trying.
I will know I'm not that big a deal. I'm trying.
I will give freely. I'm trying.
I will allow myself to be inferior to you, because I am inferior to you. I'm trying.
I will speak soothing words. I'm trying.
I will listen to and see what you need. I'm trying.
I will understand that I don't define your needs. I'm trying.
I will count it all as loss. I'm trying.
I will see and live true righteousness. I'm trying.
I will count my blessings. I'm trying.
I will show that I love God. I'm trying.
I will believe that God exists. I'm trying.
I will take you to the inn at my expense. I'm trying.
I will look at this and feel shame for my filth. I'm trying.
He can.
Though I try, I will fail. But He can succeed for me, has succeeded for me.
It's not about me. I am a peripheral character. He can use me as a peripheral character.
I can't do it on my own. He can win for me. He can love others. He can draw me to Himself.
He can.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Contendedness
"I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Philippians 4:11,12
Now, Paul's talking about material needs here. But I feel that in America, we deal a little less than he did in material need. The concept of need and plenty materially isn't always as strong for us. However, emotional and locational need and plenty is something I believe we struggle with often. I have a hard time being truly content with where I am at this point in time. I constantly strive for that "when...", the thought that there is a point where I'll be where I need to be. Until then, I'm just on my way there. It's tough to be content.
I feel a lot of this has to do with a misunderstanding of contentedness. It's not being just okay with where you are. That's more like complacency. True contentedness is feeling sincerely joyful about the point where you are in this moment, joyful for the present, while looking to the future with similar joy and anticipation.
There are so many pressures that we feel. The pressure to achieve, to succeed, to graduate, to get married, to find God's calling for your life. Especially that last one. There's so much language about finding God's place for you in the world. And this is good. But I believe it is taken too far. We can't be so concerned about the future that we take our minds out of the present. At the present, what is God's will for you? You should strive to be where you are, and make the most of it. The future will come. It has to.
To be honest, I've felt content for the first time in a long time lately. Don't get me wrong, I haven't felt upset about my situations (well, not most of the time), but I haven't felt that present joy that contentedness brings. It has been mainly complacency. And if not that, I'm looking to the future for my "then." But lately, I've been able to look at my life and say, "This is the way it is. I love it. I wouldn't change it. And I'm excited for what will come." And it has been so freeing.
Not to say I don't plan. I do like to have an idea of what I would like my future to hold, but it's really no big deal. Things work out. But for now I live for today, and tomorrow I'll live for tomorrow. The horizon doesn't distract me as much any more.
So, I guess what I'm trying to say is: Look at your life. Are you content with where you are? Does your current situation fill you with joy (contrast with happiness)? If not, just ponder this for a while. I hope you can find peace through this.
Now, Paul's talking about material needs here. But I feel that in America, we deal a little less than he did in material need. The concept of need and plenty materially isn't always as strong for us. However, emotional and locational need and plenty is something I believe we struggle with often. I have a hard time being truly content with where I am at this point in time. I constantly strive for that "when...", the thought that there is a point where I'll be where I need to be. Until then, I'm just on my way there. It's tough to be content.
I feel a lot of this has to do with a misunderstanding of contentedness. It's not being just okay with where you are. That's more like complacency. True contentedness is feeling sincerely joyful about the point where you are in this moment, joyful for the present, while looking to the future with similar joy and anticipation.
There are so many pressures that we feel. The pressure to achieve, to succeed, to graduate, to get married, to find God's calling for your life. Especially that last one. There's so much language about finding God's place for you in the world. And this is good. But I believe it is taken too far. We can't be so concerned about the future that we take our minds out of the present. At the present, what is God's will for you? You should strive to be where you are, and make the most of it. The future will come. It has to.
To be honest, I've felt content for the first time in a long time lately. Don't get me wrong, I haven't felt upset about my situations (well, not most of the time), but I haven't felt that present joy that contentedness brings. It has been mainly complacency. And if not that, I'm looking to the future for my "then." But lately, I've been able to look at my life and say, "This is the way it is. I love it. I wouldn't change it. And I'm excited for what will come." And it has been so freeing.
Not to say I don't plan. I do like to have an idea of what I would like my future to hold, but it's really no big deal. Things work out. But for now I live for today, and tomorrow I'll live for tomorrow. The horizon doesn't distract me as much any more.
So, I guess what I'm trying to say is: Look at your life. Are you content with where you are? Does your current situation fill you with joy (contrast with happiness)? If not, just ponder this for a while. I hope you can find peace through this.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Where He Takes Us...
Sometimes, I'd rather be blindfolded when being led by the hand. The fog conceals the future, while the present is muddled, but clear. It would be so much easier to go through life unaware of all the twists and turns the God brings you through. No attachment, no unfulfilled hopes, no empty dreams. Just where you're going and God holding your hand. Instead, we let our hearts run free, holding onto something, though there lies an unseen turn just ahead. Then the turn comes, and what you thought was part of your final destination fades into the fog behind you, forgotten. So you decide to live unattached, without hopes, dreamless. Taking what comes along without putting stock in it. And you avoid pain and separation... for a while.
Then there comes a particularly unexpected twist. So unexpected, in fact, that all evidence points to this, a revelation from God--it's part of your destination, what you never saw coming. So you slowly, hesitantly grab hold of this new thought. At first you reject it. Then you consider it. Then you pursue it, but with caution. Then, you become attached to the point of pain, and something occurs to you--"If my hand gets pulled in the opposite direction, this will hurt." Because what was once felt like a nudge in that direction was nothing more than a casual bump. And you dread that turn, long for that detachment, because the turn would have come so easily, so unhindered had you just walked by, emotionless.
"But would it have been worth it to pass on by?" you wonder. "Had I not felt that nudge, made myself vulnerable, would I be as complete a person as I am now?" And you think, just maybe, even if you go through extreme pain at the turn, that the pain will have been worth it. It was a nudge, and you followed the signal. You were led through it, not past it. And you might never know, but you follow anyway. Led through the fog and the pain, holding onto what you know matters most beyond the shadow of a doubt, trusting that you aren't being led to your downfall. So just hold tighter. Don't let go. Be ready for the turn. But be ready to embrace what lies in your path, despite the pain that might ensue. And we continue on, for we are Followers.
Then there comes a particularly unexpected twist. So unexpected, in fact, that all evidence points to this, a revelation from God--it's part of your destination, what you never saw coming. So you slowly, hesitantly grab hold of this new thought. At first you reject it. Then you consider it. Then you pursue it, but with caution. Then, you become attached to the point of pain, and something occurs to you--"If my hand gets pulled in the opposite direction, this will hurt." Because what was once felt like a nudge in that direction was nothing more than a casual bump. And you dread that turn, long for that detachment, because the turn would have come so easily, so unhindered had you just walked by, emotionless.
"But would it have been worth it to pass on by?" you wonder. "Had I not felt that nudge, made myself vulnerable, would I be as complete a person as I am now?" And you think, just maybe, even if you go through extreme pain at the turn, that the pain will have been worth it. It was a nudge, and you followed the signal. You were led through it, not past it. And you might never know, but you follow anyway. Led through the fog and the pain, holding onto what you know matters most beyond the shadow of a doubt, trusting that you aren't being led to your downfall. So just hold tighter. Don't let go. Be ready for the turn. But be ready to embrace what lies in your path, despite the pain that might ensue. And we continue on, for we are Followers.
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