Saturday, August 11, 2007

A little consistency

Well after a little more than two months in the sweltering heat of phoenix, i'm back at the home where I grew up in, back in Texas. I made the long, 16 hour drive in two days, and am grateful to not have to drive anywhere of significance for the next 4 months or so. That's right, London is coming up really soon. Spending all semester over in London is something I have been looking forward to for a long time, and it's quickly approaching. So the next week and half will be filled with resting, reading, some good old fashioned exercise, and packing/planning. Good's a little thing I wrote about a week ago while I was in phoenix. I wanted to share it, so here it is....

Do we get it? Do we actually get that we are children of the Living God? I so often find myself glazed by the sway of monotony, that I do not realize the astounding fact that I am bought with the precious blood of Christ. The blood. Real, flowing, deep red blood, that gushed from His hands, His head, His side, His feet, staining real wood cut by real people. I buy the lie, every day, that says that I am merely living for myself. I lose the perspective of eternity and the bright glow of truth that command nothing less than my full attention.

I love being out on the water. Especially out on the mighty ocean. Sailing through the ancient waters that have carried men and women on journeys since the dawning of time has a sort of expansive effect on your thinking. Some would call it freeing, I like to call it awakening. Like all those things in life that stir up distant rumblings in your soul, like a distant thundercloud bellowing deeply into the ever darkening sky, certain experiences wake us up to the novelty of life. We begin to sense that life in its most renewed form follows us like a shadow that is never noticed, but always there.

The few times I've been out into the great unknown I always had an epiphany-like thought that flew through my mind. A thought with wings that would perch upon a branch in my mind, if but for a few seconds, allowing me to take deeper breaths of living truth. I would get the image in my mind of me, standing on deck of a small sailboat, riding the rhythmic waves as a golden sun stealed away silently into the far horizon. I would put myself there, wondering why on earth I was imagining such a thing.

I think it's because this. In our world, we refuse to be small. We object to the slightest hint that we are not strong, empowered people. It is a degradation to be called weak or frail. These aren't things prized in our world. But deep inside us, there is a distant voice that sometimes catches our attention, and we realize with great certainty how small we indeed are. Like being caught in a heavy thunderstorm, with deep purple clouds swirling, wind howling, and rain throwing itself sideways. Or when you stand in a valley surrounded by tall, jagged peaks. I would imagine that people living through the World Wars would have felt this way constantly, especially those enduring heavy bombing of their cities, like Britain. The feeling that you have very little control over your life makes you feel small and frail.

It's something that we just do not realize very often in our lives, sometimes, sadly, until we stand at the brink of the end of human breath and see the vast canyon looming ahead, swallowing us up into its never ending abyss. This would be eternity, and so often we fail to live with it in mind. We get glimpses every once in a while, but we quickly busy ourselves again with the pestilence of life, not wanting to face the reality that haunts us to the core. That death is real, and will happen to every one of us.

But death calls a different song for those who find their identity solidified in Christ. It is not a moaning, gasping sound, but instead an enchanting melody of an eternal life with the Giver of Life and the Lover of Good. With that in mind, our existence here is precious, for we are not condemned in our living, but are instead freed to experience the richness of the Kingdom of God, right here on earth, through the Holy Spirit residing in each believer. Where, then, oh death, is your sting? The great resounding voice of Paul, echoed in the Scriptures rings true today:

But when this perishable will have put on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your Victory? O Death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law; but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 15: 54-56)

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