God speaks to me in digital clocks.
Okay that probably sounds ridiculous, but before you haul me off to the loony bin, let me explain. I'm a bit of a "numbers" guy, I like math and know some Biblical imagery associated with numbers. So it would mostly make sense that God would use the numbers on a digital clock to speak to me.
How it usually happens is that something really cool is happening, for instance, praying with a friend and speaking encouragement to him, or the phone rings from that one person I just needed to talk to, or I'm perplexed about something and finally feel like I'm receiving the courage to go a certain direction with it. Then, a glance clockward. Quick, not premeditated. Just in the flow of the events. And the clock says?
>12:34<
This happened incredibly often for awhile, especially last fall. Could be AM or PM, they were equally frequent. The simple one-two-three-four that let me know things are in order, God is in control, our loving Lord is sovereign over all. And after that glance I continue doing whatever awesome thing I was doing, but probably with a huge smile and renewed vigor and a heart rejoicing in the Lord.
It was crazy how often this was happening. And it wasn't always 12:34, if I saw a 3:21 it would also bring the same joy, just 12:34 was the most common. Then gradually, I was seeing 2:34 all over the place. Yes, I was staying up past 2:30a more than I should have, which was definitely part of it. But it still seemed cool, just missing that one on the front.
The funny part is that this also mirrored my real life. I was working a lot to serve the Lord, but I had lost that first love for Him. He wasn't number one in my life. As ridiculous as it sounds, this all got restored in a huge way when I went to the OneThing Conference in Kansas City (you just can't make up stuff like this). The "1" that had fallen off my clock was addressed full on with a 4 day getaway that was ALL about falling more in love with Jesus. It was glorious, encountering Him in such a real way that He again became my one thing, my first desire.
And so what did I see on clocks everywhere for the next couple months after this conference, when He was restored as number 1 in my life?
>11:11<
True story.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
passion.... meh...
Tonight at Salt Stan preached on Romans 12:9-13. Four verses, eight sentences, twelve commands. It was a thick sermon of lots of application. He said it was bascially eight sermons, on those eight different sentences, and hopefully one of them would hit you.
The one that hit me was "Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord." Stan went on to talk about zeal and its opposite, duty. Just watch the new wide eyed freshmen on a sports team, running full out sprints during warm ups, while the seasoned seniors are lollygagging out of duty. A good picture to test yourself with: were would you be on that sports team?
It hit me pretty square. I've looked at this list of commands before, and the one that hits me usually as my strike zone is this very one. Never be lacking in zeal. The Lord has blessed me so that my life has the grace on it to exhibit some zeal at times. But lately? Not really. I've just been floating between a part time job and the lack of a second part time job. Filling the hours with random crap. Which I suppose is the biggest challenge if you're a zealous person. How do you keep the fire burning?
Passion is already lacking in our day. Cool indifference was the mode of the day in my civil engineering classes. Nobody really talked or was allowed to enjoy anything. Everybody rolled their eyes at the kids who sat in the front asked lots of questions and tucked their shirts in. Shuffle in. Take care of your business. Shuffle out. And I guess at the bar Friday night you could cut loose. I guess.
I don't want to conform to the pattern of this world. God, you've been transforming my heart, but we ain't there yet. Give me a persevering zeal for your Name and for your Glory and for the things that awaken my heart here on earth to serve you. I want to burn, Jesus. Set me ablaze. All it takes is a little spark. I certainly feel like dry tinder here at the moment. But Lord I need some thicker wood on the fire, too.
While I was at home during the Chirstmas holiday, we raked a lot of leaves. I know, it's almost inhumane to rake that many leaves during the Chirstmas holiday. By the end of the day we had this big pile of leaves and we threw in some dry reeds too. They grow near the burn pile and are useful for starting the fire. So we started the dry reeds and the leaves. The flame would quickly jump high and hot. Then it would just as soon die out to nothing but some smoking leaves. This scenario repeated about 10 times before we were fed up with it. The leaves and dry reeds were good for flaring up and getting a flame started. But to actually burn the pile, we had to catch fire on wooden sticks, in a thicker and thicker progression of wood. Once we had some logs going, it was easy to manage the thick steady log at the base of the leave pile, steadily chewing on the leaves that fell into the flame.
Lord, in the same way, may you temper me in that I catch flame in the substantial parts. The persevering parts of me that don't just get excited and flare up, but the parts that can steadily burn. Lord, may I never be lacking in zeal. Stir up the flame of passion. I want to keep my spiritual fervor. Help me do this, Lord, that I may serve You!
The one that hit me was "Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord." Stan went on to talk about zeal and its opposite, duty. Just watch the new wide eyed freshmen on a sports team, running full out sprints during warm ups, while the seasoned seniors are lollygagging out of duty. A good picture to test yourself with: were would you be on that sports team?
It hit me pretty square. I've looked at this list of commands before, and the one that hits me usually as my strike zone is this very one. Never be lacking in zeal. The Lord has blessed me so that my life has the grace on it to exhibit some zeal at times. But lately? Not really. I've just been floating between a part time job and the lack of a second part time job. Filling the hours with random crap. Which I suppose is the biggest challenge if you're a zealous person. How do you keep the fire burning?
Passion is already lacking in our day. Cool indifference was the mode of the day in my civil engineering classes. Nobody really talked or was allowed to enjoy anything. Everybody rolled their eyes at the kids who sat in the front asked lots of questions and tucked their shirts in. Shuffle in. Take care of your business. Shuffle out. And I guess at the bar Friday night you could cut loose. I guess.
I don't want to conform to the pattern of this world. God, you've been transforming my heart, but we ain't there yet. Give me a persevering zeal for your Name and for your Glory and for the things that awaken my heart here on earth to serve you. I want to burn, Jesus. Set me ablaze. All it takes is a little spark. I certainly feel like dry tinder here at the moment. But Lord I need some thicker wood on the fire, too.
While I was at home during the Chirstmas holiday, we raked a lot of leaves. I know, it's almost inhumane to rake that many leaves during the Chirstmas holiday. By the end of the day we had this big pile of leaves and we threw in some dry reeds too. They grow near the burn pile and are useful for starting the fire. So we started the dry reeds and the leaves. The flame would quickly jump high and hot. Then it would just as soon die out to nothing but some smoking leaves. This scenario repeated about 10 times before we were fed up with it. The leaves and dry reeds were good for flaring up and getting a flame started. But to actually burn the pile, we had to catch fire on wooden sticks, in a thicker and thicker progression of wood. Once we had some logs going, it was easy to manage the thick steady log at the base of the leave pile, steadily chewing on the leaves that fell into the flame.
Lord, in the same way, may you temper me in that I catch flame in the substantial parts. The persevering parts of me that don't just get excited and flare up, but the parts that can steadily burn. Lord, may I never be lacking in zeal. Stir up the flame of passion. I want to keep my spiritual fervor. Help me do this, Lord, that I may serve You!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Kerusso!
Here's the latest movement that I'm thinking of starting. It's called "Kerusso." Sounds cool, right? Want in?
Okay, I guess I'll give you the backstory:
So on my sister's birthday a week or two ago, we made this really random video. Actually, it was just a picture slideshow. We put on funky costumes, took a bajillion photos of us in random poses (sort of like a stop-motion), made a bangin soundtrack, and then posted it on facebook. Responses poured in. I think 8 people had commented on the video before facebook took it down for excessive awesomeness. Okay, they actually took it down because the "bangin soundtrack" was a copyrighted song. But people went nuts for this really random video with no reason or plot or end.
The moral of the story? People are bored. They will watch, read, listen to, or download basically anything. Especially if they know you.
Well, that's one way to look at it anyway. At the retreat this past weekend Brandon Barker had a breakout session where he talked about the church and the internet/technology, and how the former is resistant to change at times while the latter is changing every second. Also, the internet has shifted from a place that you go to get information to a place that you go to be a part of the conversation. See: time spent on facebook, twitter.
This obviously is a new part of the culture. There was a day when people didn't have facebook or youtube or the internet or tv's or even radios. I think people mostly just sat around and talked back then. Kinda lame. But actually, I bet it was fun. Just in the town square, chillin on benches, chatting about what's going on. And if you think about it, we're just trying to make facebook and twitter our new townsquare where we chat about the latest whatever. So we're the lame ones.
Back to the movement and the title of this post. Kerusso. This is a big Greek word loaded with meaning. It means to herald, to proclaim, or to publish, public announcement. They usually just translate it "preach" in the new testament. So it would seem that it was in these town square, chillin and grillin times that Jesus or John the Baptizer would grab their audiences and say things like "repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near!"
That's what they did back then to kerusso. But now we do have the internet and facebook and youtube. How much more can we be kerusso-ing in the information age? My idea is to enable and encourage people to post their God stories all over the place. It was shocking how much conversation and attention a silly slideshow of dress-up generated. How much more if people are declaring the awesome things that God is doing in their lives! I already have videos I want to make where I tell the story of the car battery I prayed for or Melinda's jaw being healed or the witch doctor in Africa coming to Christ or Reggie repenting on the dorm floor or whatever else I can think of to properly herald, trumpet, and proclaim the Glory of God!
What would you want to kerusso from the rooftops? Or from the internet?
Okay, I guess I'll give you the backstory:
So on my sister's birthday a week or two ago, we made this really random video. Actually, it was just a picture slideshow. We put on funky costumes, took a bajillion photos of us in random poses (sort of like a stop-motion), made a bangin soundtrack, and then posted it on facebook. Responses poured in. I think 8 people had commented on the video before facebook took it down for excessive awesomeness. Okay, they actually took it down because the "bangin soundtrack" was a copyrighted song. But people went nuts for this really random video with no reason or plot or end.
The moral of the story? People are bored. They will watch, read, listen to, or download basically anything. Especially if they know you.
Well, that's one way to look at it anyway. At the retreat this past weekend Brandon Barker had a breakout session where he talked about the church and the internet/technology, and how the former is resistant to change at times while the latter is changing every second. Also, the internet has shifted from a place that you go to get information to a place that you go to be a part of the conversation. See: time spent on facebook, twitter.
This obviously is a new part of the culture. There was a day when people didn't have facebook or youtube or the internet or tv's or even radios. I think people mostly just sat around and talked back then. Kinda lame. But actually, I bet it was fun. Just in the town square, chillin on benches, chatting about what's going on. And if you think about it, we're just trying to make facebook and twitter our new townsquare where we chat about the latest whatever. So we're the lame ones.
Back to the movement and the title of this post. Kerusso. This is a big Greek word loaded with meaning. It means to herald, to proclaim, or to publish, public announcement. They usually just translate it "preach" in the new testament. So it would seem that it was in these town square, chillin and grillin times that Jesus or John the Baptizer would grab their audiences and say things like "repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is near!"
That's what they did back then to kerusso. But now we do have the internet and facebook and youtube. How much more can we be kerusso-ing in the information age? My idea is to enable and encourage people to post their God stories all over the place. It was shocking how much conversation and attention a silly slideshow of dress-up generated. How much more if people are declaring the awesome things that God is doing in their lives! I already have videos I want to make where I tell the story of the car battery I prayed for or Melinda's jaw being healed or the witch doctor in Africa coming to Christ or Reggie repenting on the dorm floor or whatever else I can think of to properly herald, trumpet, and proclaim the Glory of God!
What would you want to kerusso from the rooftops? Or from the internet?
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Scary thought of the moment
Okay, this is kind of dumb I realize, but at the same time, in quiet moments staring at the ceiling this is what leaves me unsettled:
I was a pretty smart little kid, read a lot of books and was sharp at math, whole nine yards. About third grade I got wind of the rumor that there is no Santa Claus. And the funny part was, I denied it. I knew there was a Santa. And even if I didn't KNOW know, I still had the vocal, stubborn part of me violently overpower the still small voice of truth deep inside and convince myself that Santa is real. I even would refute third grade classmates who tried to say there was no Santa. I had a couple theories of how he could probably deliver to all of the USA in one night, since there were other similar Santa figures for Mexico and Norway and other cultures that we learned about, the work was divided up among them all. One assignment of making a Chirstmas picture book, I made almost a propaganda pamphlet describing in detail the credibility of Santa Claus.
A while later, my dad sat down my sister and I and spilled the beans. There is no Santa. This didn't make me mad or anything, I feel like it really just freed me up, let the inner voice of truth out of the cramped locked box I had put him in.
To a certain degree, I feel like this was something of a seedbed for the gift of faith that has shown up at certain points in my life. If I have the faith to hold steadfast to Santa, I pray that I steadfastly hold to Jesus exponentially more. But in other ways, I think there might be something unhealthy to it all...
Are there other things my inner voice of truth clearly knows that my vocal and stubborn side keeps locked up?
I was a pretty smart little kid, read a lot of books and was sharp at math, whole nine yards. About third grade I got wind of the rumor that there is no Santa Claus. And the funny part was, I denied it. I knew there was a Santa. And even if I didn't KNOW know, I still had the vocal, stubborn part of me violently overpower the still small voice of truth deep inside and convince myself that Santa is real. I even would refute third grade classmates who tried to say there was no Santa. I had a couple theories of how he could probably deliver to all of the USA in one night, since there were other similar Santa figures for Mexico and Norway and other cultures that we learned about, the work was divided up among them all. One assignment of making a Chirstmas picture book, I made almost a propaganda pamphlet describing in detail the credibility of Santa Claus.
A while later, my dad sat down my sister and I and spilled the beans. There is no Santa. This didn't make me mad or anything, I feel like it really just freed me up, let the inner voice of truth out of the cramped locked box I had put him in.
To a certain degree, I feel like this was something of a seedbed for the gift of faith that has shown up at certain points in my life. If I have the faith to hold steadfast to Santa, I pray that I steadfastly hold to Jesus exponentially more. But in other ways, I think there might be something unhealthy to it all...
Are there other things my inner voice of truth clearly knows that my vocal and stubborn side keeps locked up?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Mover of Men and Mountains
I guess one of the only things that consistantly pulls me back to this blog is reading books. Other stuff happens too fast to write down, and books happen slow and then disappear. Better write them down.
Okay, the latest: R. G. LeTourneau's autobiography, Mover of Men and Mountains. Haven't heard of LeTourneau? Bummer. Ever heard of the bulldozer? Haha, that's right, the bulldozer. That's just one of the 300 patents that LeTourneau owns. This guy was NUTS.
Wait, I skipped a little too far ahead. Since LeTourneau is probably one of the most influencial and amazing people that you've never heard of, I'll try and give you the 1 blog post summary of the book:
Boy from the middle of nowhere drops out of school and becomes a mechanic. This is early 1900s, so there were only like three different kinds of cars for him to work on. Somehow he takes his welder from repairing cars to building things. Machines and earthmovers. Finds the Lord, too, supporting missionaries in China. Gets a little contracting business going. Then the general rhythm is this: he gets a bit contracting job to do, he falls way behind and has no idea how he's going to complete it, he starts praying harder, then he invents a new machine or earth mover or something and BANG! the Lord provides and he gets the job done. It's remarkable. Along the way he decided that his startup business would be a partnership--10% himself and 90% God. This was reflected all the way to the finances, where he created a charitable foundation to put 90% of the profits. Praise Jesus... ! He also had a Biblically-based magazine that he published and distributed to all the workers in his factories and job sites, with set aside prayer times.
I mentioned the bulldozer, that was probably his invention that is most easily recognized. Get this: the first design was the front pushing blade mounted on a MULE. That's right, a mule. It was hard to even place this book, imagining a world with motor-engines just beginning to break through the surface. Eventually, of course, he invented a diesel prime-mover that could push the blade instead of the four legged hooved animal.
The last part of LeTourneau's legacy that I gotta mention: towns in Liberia and Peru that are NAMED AFTER HIM when he came through with his earth movers and cleared out some jungle and improved the quality of living for the area. Now, the somewhat liberally minded part of me raises an eyebrow at sending a "jungle-smashing spiky steamroller" into the jungle to speed up deforestation, not to mention the cultural insensitivity to "colonize" that part of Peru, calling it Tourna-vista. His heart was in the right spot. LeTourneau University in Texas also bears his legacy, and a guy I know here at Iowa State is headed there next fall for school.
Thank you, Lord, for men like LeTourneau who whole-heartedly serve you from the marketplace and from the job site. Thank you for the mark he has left on the world and the way that you have used his life and his ministry to change so many lives. May you raise up more LeTourneau's in our day.
Okay, the latest: R. G. LeTourneau's autobiography, Mover of Men and Mountains. Haven't heard of LeTourneau? Bummer. Ever heard of the bulldozer? Haha, that's right, the bulldozer. That's just one of the 300 patents that LeTourneau owns. This guy was NUTS.
Wait, I skipped a little too far ahead. Since LeTourneau is probably one of the most influencial and amazing people that you've never heard of, I'll try and give you the 1 blog post summary of the book:
Boy from the middle of nowhere drops out of school and becomes a mechanic. This is early 1900s, so there were only like three different kinds of cars for him to work on. Somehow he takes his welder from repairing cars to building things. Machines and earthmovers. Finds the Lord, too, supporting missionaries in China. Gets a little contracting business going. Then the general rhythm is this: he gets a bit contracting job to do, he falls way behind and has no idea how he's going to complete it, he starts praying harder, then he invents a new machine or earth mover or something and BANG! the Lord provides and he gets the job done. It's remarkable. Along the way he decided that his startup business would be a partnership--10% himself and 90% God. This was reflected all the way to the finances, where he created a charitable foundation to put 90% of the profits. Praise Jesus... ! He also had a Biblically-based magazine that he published and distributed to all the workers in his factories and job sites, with set aside prayer times.
I mentioned the bulldozer, that was probably his invention that is most easily recognized. Get this: the first design was the front pushing blade mounted on a MULE. That's right, a mule. It was hard to even place this book, imagining a world with motor-engines just beginning to break through the surface. Eventually, of course, he invented a diesel prime-mover that could push the blade instead of the four legged hooved animal.
The last part of LeTourneau's legacy that I gotta mention: towns in Liberia and Peru that are NAMED AFTER HIM when he came through with his earth movers and cleared out some jungle and improved the quality of living for the area. Now, the somewhat liberally minded part of me raises an eyebrow at sending a "jungle-smashing spiky steamroller" into the jungle to speed up deforestation, not to mention the cultural insensitivity to "colonize" that part of Peru, calling it Tourna-vista. His heart was in the right spot. LeTourneau University in Texas also bears his legacy, and a guy I know here at Iowa State is headed there next fall for school.
Thank you, Lord, for men like LeTourneau who whole-heartedly serve you from the marketplace and from the job site. Thank you for the mark he has left on the world and the way that you have used his life and his ministry to change so many lives. May you raise up more LeTourneau's in our day.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
God is a verb
I've been reading The Shack, just like every other good christian out there. Okay, except the christians who like Mark Driscoll, because he says the book is a heresy known as modalism. People have been pretty divided and extreme on this book, some saying this is our generation's Pilgrim's Progress, others saying that you shouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. As is the case many times when both sides are saying that, neither extreme case is right. The book is decent. Has some teachable moments. Isn't going to reshape a generation and bring revival to all those who read it, touch it, or are breathed on by someone who read it or touched it.
I'll make a comment here, but I won't ruin the premise of the book for you, you might as well give it a read since there's been some hub-bub. I've been reading it slow, it's about the 4th book on my list right now. That means I have a bookmark in 3 others that are better, and only if I'm in a dry part in those will I actually reach for The Shack. But it's a decent read.
All that being said, last night I finally got to the part that was worth the price of the book altogether. Wanna hear it?
GOD is a VERB.
I AM.
I was and I am and I will be.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.
I am LOVE.
It's all over Scripture. God is a verb. I'm still digesting that comment, but it's so true and applicable that I'm blurting it out.
I'm thinking about the creation story, and how God started with light.
Light is a verb too, I think. A wave, anyway.
And when God did make nouns, lots of nouns, they still needed the verb, the action, the GOD that flows through them and in them. And so the stars dance and the sun spins and the moon orbits. They all have that verb flowing through them, that God-ness in them, His Fingerprints.
Another place it shows up: in ancient Hebrew, the words for work and for worship were basically one and the same. Enter into His presence and lift up His Name by doing, moving, singing, clapping. And go out and keep his name glorious by doing something useful with your hands
Okay, enough abstraction for now. I need to go be an imitator of God and verb some myself.
I'll make a comment here, but I won't ruin the premise of the book for you, you might as well give it a read since there's been some hub-bub. I've been reading it slow, it's about the 4th book on my list right now. That means I have a bookmark in 3 others that are better, and only if I'm in a dry part in those will I actually reach for The Shack. But it's a decent read.
All that being said, last night I finally got to the part that was worth the price of the book altogether. Wanna hear it?
GOD is a VERB.
I AM.
I was and I am and I will be.
I am the way, the truth, and the life.
I am LOVE.
It's all over Scripture. God is a verb. I'm still digesting that comment, but it's so true and applicable that I'm blurting it out.
I'm thinking about the creation story, and how God started with light.
Light is a verb too, I think. A wave, anyway.
And when God did make nouns, lots of nouns, they still needed the verb, the action, the GOD that flows through them and in them. And so the stars dance and the sun spins and the moon orbits. They all have that verb flowing through them, that God-ness in them, His Fingerprints.
Another place it shows up: in ancient Hebrew, the words for work and for worship were basically one and the same. Enter into His presence and lift up His Name by doing, moving, singing, clapping. And go out and keep his name glorious by doing something useful with your hands
Okay, enough abstraction for now. I need to go be an imitator of God and verb some myself.
Friday, January 2, 2009
I like fire
Happy New Year to everyone out there. I of course spent my whole New Year's Day watching football, eating sloppy joes and tostitos, and hanging out with Scott and my dad in front of the tube. Didn't get out of my sweats all day. That's supposed to be the perfect day, right?
Well I think January 2nd has been the best day of the year, actually. My uncle Bill has two wood burning stoves, which needed refilling. So, with the perfect winter day weather, Bill drove his brown and tan '84 Chevy over behind our house and brought his chainsaw. Kyle, my Dad, Bill, and I dove into clearing the downed trees that were still all over our treeline from *ahem* July. There were several huge trees. The nostalgic, somber part was several huge tree branches that had collapsed the roof of our tree house. Before anyone could pause and get sentimental, my dad is standing on top of the shaky, half-destroyed structure with his chainsaw revved up all the way. He turns 49 in less than two weeks, and still it's his 18 and 23 year old sons down below yelling cautious things. Oh Dad, what a guy.
I didn't get to do a lot of chainsawing, but it was still fulfilling to drag all those smaller branches down to our burn pile. It was huge. I had an incident with a leaf pile down there over Thanksgiving break that got a little out of hand, so I was hesitant in how to get the huge pile of lumber started; I didn't want another panic moment that came with the towering inferno of leaves. Curiously, the fire actually kept going out. The branches were stacked wrong or something. We had little fires brightly running off of the leaves three or four times, each failing in turn. Kyle and I finally went boy scout style and started our own fire, separate of the pile without lighter fluid (because we ran out on the first four attempts, not because we're consciencious granola eaters). With careful tending, it grew into a steady flame, and then a comsuming fire.
I had the pleasure of tending the fire all afternoon. We had Bill's truckbed filled past capacity soon after lunch, and Dad went in to work to do paperwork, and Kyle helped me get the fire going but then sauntered off. I could have left too, but nah. The fire was mine. All afternoon. For the next few hours, I fed the fire, watched the flames dance, contemplate the next few months, talked with God, and even sang a little. Aren't fires mesmerizing? I figured that if I could spend a whole day watching a flickering box project little men run around with a ball, I could spend this day staring at a fire, surrounded by a beautiful winter day until the sun lowerd to light it's own slow fire in the sky.
One spiritual moment from that time that I'd like to share: there was some greener wood in the pile that kept curling up as it burned. It reminded me of the verse from the familiar Psalm, #23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Meditating on that verse for awhile actually became a little unsettling--as a sheep, wouldn't I somewhat fear the rod and the staff? That curl on the staff is going to grab me if I am off the path, or goofing off. And hopefully the rod is for predators, but it probably should be used on me too if I'm needing of discipline. *Gulp* I suppose all those who are In Christ are grateful for the staff that one time, when we were the 1 and He left the 99 and pulled us out of the ravine or out of the stream or whatever ridiculous situations our sins had us in. Salvation, praise God. But after that, He can put down the rod and staff, right? I mean, we're friends of God now. No need bruising any sheep....
Acutally, yes, there is a need at times to bruise a sheep. I'm realizing that while I have been meditating on the Love of God a lot and coming to deeper understanding there, I maybe have had tunnel vision. There are other aspects to His care for us that are just as essential. Maybe not as cushy. But just as necessary for our growth and becoming more like Jesus. Hebrews 12 will tell you that God disciplines us because we're sons, and it's a beautiful thing. The Lord knows I need more discipline in my life. Not my strong suit. I'm good at being led by His Spirit and just going with the flow, but it's so true that God works through structure and planning and routine, too. More often in the Bible it's called faithfulness, perseverence, and administration.
Come Lord, with Your rod and Your staff. I want to feel your comfort in that way. Help me to become a more rounded individual and a better steward of the grace you've poured out in my life. And thank you for FIRE.
Bonus: My favorite song about fire today:
Well I think January 2nd has been the best day of the year, actually. My uncle Bill has two wood burning stoves, which needed refilling. So, with the perfect winter day weather, Bill drove his brown and tan '84 Chevy over behind our house and brought his chainsaw. Kyle, my Dad, Bill, and I dove into clearing the downed trees that were still all over our treeline from *ahem* July. There were several huge trees. The nostalgic, somber part was several huge tree branches that had collapsed the roof of our tree house. Before anyone could pause and get sentimental, my dad is standing on top of the shaky, half-destroyed structure with his chainsaw revved up all the way. He turns 49 in less than two weeks, and still it's his 18 and 23 year old sons down below yelling cautious things. Oh Dad, what a guy.
I didn't get to do a lot of chainsawing, but it was still fulfilling to drag all those smaller branches down to our burn pile. It was huge. I had an incident with a leaf pile down there over Thanksgiving break that got a little out of hand, so I was hesitant in how to get the huge pile of lumber started; I didn't want another panic moment that came with the towering inferno of leaves. Curiously, the fire actually kept going out. The branches were stacked wrong or something. We had little fires brightly running off of the leaves three or four times, each failing in turn. Kyle and I finally went boy scout style and started our own fire, separate of the pile without lighter fluid (because we ran out on the first four attempts, not because we're consciencious granola eaters). With careful tending, it grew into a steady flame, and then a comsuming fire.
I had the pleasure of tending the fire all afternoon. We had Bill's truckbed filled past capacity soon after lunch, and Dad went in to work to do paperwork, and Kyle helped me get the fire going but then sauntered off. I could have left too, but nah. The fire was mine. All afternoon. For the next few hours, I fed the fire, watched the flames dance, contemplate the next few months, talked with God, and even sang a little. Aren't fires mesmerizing? I figured that if I could spend a whole day watching a flickering box project little men run around with a ball, I could spend this day staring at a fire, surrounded by a beautiful winter day until the sun lowerd to light it's own slow fire in the sky.
One spiritual moment from that time that I'd like to share: there was some greener wood in the pile that kept curling up as it burned. It reminded me of the verse from the familiar Psalm, #23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Meditating on that verse for awhile actually became a little unsettling--as a sheep, wouldn't I somewhat fear the rod and the staff? That curl on the staff is going to grab me if I am off the path, or goofing off. And hopefully the rod is for predators, but it probably should be used on me too if I'm needing of discipline. *Gulp* I suppose all those who are In Christ are grateful for the staff that one time, when we were the 1 and He left the 99 and pulled us out of the ravine or out of the stream or whatever ridiculous situations our sins had us in. Salvation, praise God. But after that, He can put down the rod and staff, right? I mean, we're friends of God now. No need bruising any sheep....
Acutally, yes, there is a need at times to bruise a sheep. I'm realizing that while I have been meditating on the Love of God a lot and coming to deeper understanding there, I maybe have had tunnel vision. There are other aspects to His care for us that are just as essential. Maybe not as cushy. But just as necessary for our growth and becoming more like Jesus. Hebrews 12 will tell you that God disciplines us because we're sons, and it's a beautiful thing. The Lord knows I need more discipline in my life. Not my strong suit. I'm good at being led by His Spirit and just going with the flow, but it's so true that God works through structure and planning and routine, too. More often in the Bible it's called faithfulness, perseverence, and administration.
Come Lord, with Your rod and Your staff. I want to feel your comfort in that way. Help me to become a more rounded individual and a better steward of the grace you've poured out in my life. And thank you for FIRE.
Bonus: My favorite song about fire today:
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