As I sat, watching the birds flit about, sunlight all at once bloomed over the mountain horizon, casting all it touched with the pure glory of a new day.
Suddenly the hymn means everything.
Thursday, March 17, 2016
A Simple Blessing
I was working on the Courage post early this morning when I realized that I could hear a true symphony of bird song outside. I needed a short break, so I sat on the patio to listen.
Courage
Things are...rough...at the moment. The Massive Neon Question Mark persists, and we're watching a lot of hopes and expectations wither.
The past several years have been a study in storms, and a test of resilience. It seemed we hadn't had time to recover from one massive wave before another one broke upon us. Lost loved ones, health problems, lost career, one. after. the other. And it was hard to live through these trials, or this one extended trial, without wondering if, perhaps, we did something to deserve it. That God was punishing us. It's a hard possibility to consider without somehow turning God into a cosmic karmic scale or a jilted lover. And it's also hard to stop that first question "did I do something?" from overwhelming the heart. We start sifting and pawing through our recent lives looking for sins or transgressions big enough to warrant This. All the while wondering about the validity of scriptures that promise God's favor and answered prayers in return for faithfulness. "Ask and it shall be given unto you." We asked! We pretty much begged. Enough, please, enough. No more. Let this one thing go right so we can leave this battle field behind.
It's no wonder, really, that Job's friends thought he must have been pretty awful for all those things to happen to him. God must truly have it out for him. It's easy for us to accept Job's situation, bracketed, as it were, by the knowledge that God allowed Job's trials to happen because he was worthy and faithful and not because he deserved retribution. It's harder to consider that, perhaps, we are in the same boat. This isn't happening because God has his celestial finger on the Smite Button.
It's happening because it's happening.
There's a song lodged in my mind at the moment. I can't remember the lyrics to any part but the chorus, so just four lines repeat.
I didn't really understand the metaphor of God as a potter until recently. Creating a clay pot requires the skillful application of pressure. Sometimes from the outside in (events in life), and sometimes from the inside out (spiritual). Most often, it's both simultaneously. Without pressure, the clay is just a lump. Useless. Pressure from only the outside makes a better formed lump, good for a door stop or maybe a paper weight but not much else. Pressure from only the inside is an explosion. Apply both at once, you make a vessel. And that's the whole point.
It's not easy, and it can be incredibly painful, but it's necessary.
This is what I keep reminding myself of while the Massive Neon Question Mark exists and while loved ones die and while nightmares come to pass. It happens because it happens, and rather than collapse from the pressure, I ask God for peace.
The past several years have been a study in storms, and a test of resilience. It seemed we hadn't had time to recover from one massive wave before another one broke upon us. Lost loved ones, health problems, lost career, one. after. the other. And it was hard to live through these trials, or this one extended trial, without wondering if, perhaps, we did something to deserve it. That God was punishing us. It's a hard possibility to consider without somehow turning God into a cosmic karmic scale or a jilted lover. And it's also hard to stop that first question "did I do something?" from overwhelming the heart. We start sifting and pawing through our recent lives looking for sins or transgressions big enough to warrant This. All the while wondering about the validity of scriptures that promise God's favor and answered prayers in return for faithfulness. "Ask and it shall be given unto you." We asked! We pretty much begged. Enough, please, enough. No more. Let this one thing go right so we can leave this battle field behind.
It's no wonder, really, that Job's friends thought he must have been pretty awful for all those things to happen to him. God must truly have it out for him. It's easy for us to accept Job's situation, bracketed, as it were, by the knowledge that God allowed Job's trials to happen because he was worthy and faithful and not because he deserved retribution. It's harder to consider that, perhaps, we are in the same boat. This isn't happening because God has his celestial finger on the Smite Button.
It's happening because it's happening.
There's a song lodged in my mind at the moment. I can't remember the lyrics to any part but the chorus, so just four lines repeat.
Sometimes he calms the storm, with a whispered "peace, be still."Trials and tragedies don't happen because God is some sadistic tyrant scowling at us over his abacus of tallied transgressions. They happen because they happen. And more often than not, God doesn't calm the storm. A calm sea does not a skillful sailor make, whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger, etc. More often than not, the storm will continue to rage, and all we can do is pray for the peace and strength to endure it.
He can settle any sea, but it doesn't mean he will.
Sometimes he holds us close, and lets the wind and waves go wild.
Sometimes he calms the storm, and other times he calms his child.
I didn't really understand the metaphor of God as a potter until recently. Creating a clay pot requires the skillful application of pressure. Sometimes from the outside in (events in life), and sometimes from the inside out (spiritual). Most often, it's both simultaneously. Without pressure, the clay is just a lump. Useless. Pressure from only the outside makes a better formed lump, good for a door stop or maybe a paper weight but not much else. Pressure from only the inside is an explosion. Apply both at once, you make a vessel. And that's the whole point.
It's not easy, and it can be incredibly painful, but it's necessary.
This is what I keep reminding myself of while the Massive Neon Question Mark exists and while loved ones die and while nightmares come to pass. It happens because it happens, and rather than collapse from the pressure, I ask God for peace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)