Sight

Recently within the past couple of weeks something God has been teaching me, is how to see eternally. I think I’ve begun to understand (very very little) how I should be looking at this world. It is temporary. It is flawed. It is in desperate need.

I think what sparked this thought was how I’ve often let my mind slip into typical worldly thinking. The worries, the stresses, the so-called ‘happiness’ of the world. Yep. I was totally convinced. And I’m ashamed to admit that it has taken me this long to have a view of eternity before my eyes. But I’m endlessly thankful that I’ve grasped it. Even if it is still just setting in, I am grateful that I have eternity before me. That the concerns of this world cannot consume me. That nothing can separate me from eternity with my Father. That statement alone, that “No power in the sky above or in the earth below--indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38). I should have no amount of hopelessness, because I rejoice in the hope of the glory of God (Romans 5:4).

I wish I could tell you that this was a natural and easy conclusion to meet. But it just wasn’t for me. I struggled; I was caught up in the attractions of this world. Plain and simple. But what I love most about this is I now see. I see the urgency of making my Creator glorified because this earth is passing. I see eternity, always before me. But never losing sight of the desperation I’m surrounded by.

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Father, do whatever you need to do in me, so that you are glorified.

Completely humbled and awed by the love of my Father.

Relentlessly asking You to glorify yourself. Whatever it takes.

Still

I’m sure at some point or another everyone has thought their life out. It’s comforting to know that it never happens the exact way you pictured it. In that sweet moment of figuring out your life, innocence is aroused and direction seems limitless. But, it seems as though you always hit that point, the point of confusion. However it be measured, confusion is inevitable [that word is used multiple times a day in my vocabulary]. I am always confused. In my case, it is more directed at where to go next. Often pouring my soul out to the Father [as if he doesn’t ‘understand’] just asking for direction, for understanding, for some answer. I feel like I find myself maybe having an idea of where God is leading me next, then some way or another that direction is lost and I find myself at another fork in the road. Something that has been on replay in my mind is how confusion could be a blessing. Bear with me. A few months back, that thought dawned on me. What if God intended for confusion to be a blessing? So, for months I began to write in my journal about the concept, the possibility, the reasons as to why, seeking for a conclusion. And for months, I found myself just exploring the theory; never really coming to an end, never really grasping my own idea.

And then it happened. I find myself seeing confusion as frustrating rather than a catalyst to see His sovereignty. That’s all it is. Why should I try to plan out my life when my Creator knows the number of hairs on my head (Luke 12:7)? I believe that confusion is a blessing. Because ultimately, it forces me to find Direction. It is a beautiful picture.

Accompanying this confusion is complete and utter exhaustion. No, weariness. That physical and emotional feeling of being heavy burdened, tired.

I am constantly going. Every day, all the time. To experience rest in the way the Father intended, seems to be light-years away. What if the ‘cure’ for weariness was to simply, sit. Soak in the Spirit’s restoration. What if, like me, you’re terrible at that? I honestly, do not know how to just be still [and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10). I feel like that always has to be the following statement]. Can it be learned? How do I rest? I know where to find it, but how do I do it?

Confused and weary at times. Blessed to not know where I am going.

Praying that I will, with everything inside of me, fall into the arms of my Father.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

Hello Pride

I am a horrible receiver, a prideful person, struggling to accept everything from love, support, to just help. The irony is that I love to serve people; I love to give in whatever way that looks like. I truly find joy in it. But when others turn and try to bless me, I get uncomfortable. I don’t want to accept it; I want that person to use it for someone/something else. How hypocritical, how prideful am I? As a friend put it, “that seems like a slap in the face to the Holy Spirit.” Yep. As much as I want to deny that I have not been doing that, I know good and well that a pure blessing is from the Father; no human can grant that. So, when my heart refuses or struggles to receive anything, I’m struggling to receive from Him. I suppose I don’t have a good grasp on what it looks like to be blessed by others. To me, the worst part about this is that I know the root of it. I know the source, pride. But the fix is what kills me. Humility has to be one of the most difficult redemptive characteristics. -Thank you Father for desiring to mold me- Because it strips you of who you are to this world, who you are to others. The result: dirt, cleansed away and the pureness of Christ manifested in my heart.

Thinking about it, I used to only tag this whole receiving thing with gifts. But now, it’s like everything falls underneath it. And it makes sense. It makes sense why it’s hard for me to accept every little stinking thing. Pride.

Jesus, just please, gently or painfully, however. Strip away these layers of pride.

nodnaba

"The call to abandon the attachments of this world" -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

As I read this and then began to evaluate my life, things that I never viewed as attachments quickly became things that would cause me to think twice, or things or people I would miss. I didn't expect the 'attachments of this world' to be a family that is already broken, or the comfort of a familiar place, a language that I understand, unique friendships…

I never considered myself scared to live a radical life. If I was afraid of anything, it was the repercussions of relationships with specific people in my life; of their thoughts, of so-called 'bonds' being broken. It has never provoked me to make a wrong decision concerning the furtherance of the gospel, but it has caused me to think twice. Because, even though most of these [to love the least of these- oh how I desperately need Jesus for this] do not know the Father, I still feel a need to please them [is this making sense?] So, it strikes me that while dissecting my life and what I would consider to be an attachment of this world-some of my answers have been some of my most difficult times. Is it possible that I haven’t accepted that the Father is bigger, that His name is more urgent than to mend an earthly tie? But the world, even the some in the church, would direct me to pursue to fix this before going to live a radical life. So this begs the question in my mind “Is it ok to leave something that I desire to be healed, and instead to just go? Go as I am lead. Do as I am directed. All for the sake of Christ’s name.” Because at the end of this, it is not myself, or those who I come in contact with that should be a hindering factor in my submission to the Father. But that’s a fine line to walk on; trying to be respectful and honoring those here, while desperately seeking and physically following the Spirit.

“Jesus is no longer one to be accepted or invited in but one who is infinitely worthy of our immediate and total surrender.” David Platt “Radical”

Clinching my hands as I beg to serve Him.