Day 19 of Lent - in which Sheila runs out of words...
“My heart is composing a goodly matter; I speak of the verses which I have made concerning the King; my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.”
~Psalm 45:1
…this is me, in my think-tank…
It’s a crisp sunny Sunday, and I’ve overcome overwhelming odds to be here sipping coffee at the keyboard. You’ve overcome overwhelming odds, too, I want you to know. I don’t believe in chance. You’ve been brought here today, as have I.
On the way to church, I kept thinking about the fact that God has not been what has been against us.
He is for you.
He didn’t create humans reluctantly. God made because of who He is, and from who He is (a Being with unparalleled goodness, and overflowing creativity and insatiable desire to make). He was never a disinterested Maker. The Godhead were not without sheer bias towards us from the very beginning.
The generosity of Father, Son, and Spirit towards us did not flow out of some beige, tepid, half-hearted inclination. They weren’t sitting in heaven, amongst all that boring glory, and suddenly choosing to kick the cosmic can around, and so “here we are”.
No! There was an enemy, there was a Godhead, there was a story to be told, and the stakes were high. All the goodness of God made you and I, knowing we would need a costly redemption; and for that redemption to be real, there would have to be a designated Representative.
God knew that God Himself would become one of us. And His wholehearted goodness towards you was in it from before the beginning.
We do spend our life “as a tale that is told”. We’ve been included in the story God is telling, and that story is not one of a dying Christ “fixing” what an angry God hated about what He had made. Nor is the story one of an indistinct, all-inclusive “Fatherhood of God for a brotherhood of man”. Rather, the story is that of a dying Christ reclaiming our original design. He bought back the possibility of an affectionate relationship with us. It is the ongoing story of His creation, incomparably dear to Him from our first breath, all of nature as an object of delight, plunging itself into desperate ruin, and a relentless Living God who would not, and will not, allow His purpose for which He made us, to be denied.
His purpose (that we be with Him as beloved ones) caused Him to roar a lion-like “NO” to the very thought of our alienation from Him. Even though that alienation was by our own choosing. When we were faithless, He remained faithful.
And, can I tell you, there wasn’t a speck of hesitancy. The collective-yet-singular heart of God was never at odds with our original design. Far from it. He always knew that Genesis 1 would be a passionate rescue mission.
Let me tell you how that makes me feel. Let me tell you what it does for my heart to understand that any displeasure of the Godhead was aimed at all that would separate me from Him - that my original design, because of Christ, is still intact.
Well, I pretty much can’t. I start to run out of words.
But I keep trying. And you (hundreds of you!) keep reading.
Yay for blogs.
More coffee, please.
Day 17 of Lent, and Evil Hormones and Five Leaf Clovers and The God Who Goes To Work As We Go To Sleep
On my better days, I know that when I align my actions with my inward consciousness of the fellowship of God, what I do (and especially the art I create) becomes a form of prayer.
Today might not have been one of those days.
It didn’t begin well. That’s usually how an off day starts. I blame The Evil Hormones, and this thing of spending all night throwing the covers off and on and off and on. I exaggerate not: I woke up this morning feeling like my arms had done a mild workout. But it was just the “wax on/wax off” motion of cover-tossing for hours at a time.
But enough about me, what do you think about my hair?
As much as I hate to admit it, today has been one of those days that I just get through. If I were to add up all the times I’ve spent in my life “getting through”, it might be half my life. And you know what? A good life coach would tell me that that is perfectly fine.
She wouldn’t tell me that the “getting through” part is fine - because I should be able to manage my thoughts better than merely “getting through” a day. No, she would tell me that half of my life being slightly unremarkable is okay! In fact, that is normal and to be expected. Life is 50/50, hard/good, boring/riveting - and don’t we all have to learn to manage our mind, will, and emotions in the 50% that is….meh.
Thank God that His day begins as mine ends. In Hebraic tradition, the day begins at sundown. So as I am washing and derma-planing my face (!!), He is setting about the task of restoring my soul as I slip into sleep. The Preacher and I pray each and every night that we would meet with the risen Christ in our dreams, in whatever form He chooses to reveal Himself.
May it be so.
Tomorrow, I wake up to brand new mercies, made fresh for me. All I did was sleep off the previous day.
The real trick of the poets, prophets and artists? The real trick is to learn how not to carry yesterday’s battles and yesterday’s stuff into tomorrow. Tomorrow, we begin fresh. We develop deliberate amnesia as an act of holy worship. Then, we work with eyes wide open, and without malice aforethought towards all the people in our lives who took The Road Less Than Smart the day before.
We get a fresh slate. And because we get one, we get to give one.
Tomorrow, may even your most complex tasks be done with a sense of spaciousness and joy. May you wake up and make your steel cut oatmeal for the sake of the blueberries and the generous glug of cream. May you lift hands and heart to heaven and clap and laugh together with the Living God (because He thinks you are funny!). And may He send you a sign and a wonder, and I hope He gives you a beautiful child to administer it, for the family.
Exhibit A:
Our beautiful grand-girl found a (…are you ready for this…?….)…
FIVE-LEAF-CLOVER.
There is no doubt in my mind that it was given as a kiss from heaven to my daughter Sarah, artist son-in-love Jonathan Howe, and their girls…and then, almost by default, the rest of us here in the cul-de-sac got to soak up the glory just a little bit, too.
Five leaf clovers. In our cul-de-sac!
Tomorrow is gonna be a five-leaf-clover-kind-of-day.