I already have a motto.
But I write new ones constantly anyway.
Because I live best by truth thus synthesized. And because they come back when I need them when I do.
Seek nothing until you have sought God;
Seek nothing you cannot seek for God.
Because if what you are after can’t be pursued for the sake of Jesus Christ,
it isn’t worth pursuing.
“…to loose the bands of wickedness…”
If hacking chains is exhilarating work, it is also gut-wrenching. Tear jerking.
Soul taxing–
And full-filling.
It is neither for the faint-hearted, nor for the half-committed…
But it is brilliantly, brilliantly rewarding.
Little wonder then that many an eager recruit has taken to the field with clumsy grip and misfit armor to seek fame in such brave exploits. Only, without first counting (or even knowing) the cost.
These first six words betray one of the best-kept secrets of the dark side.
As regards [im]morality*:
License is bondage.
Lust is an iron chain.
And many, many beautiful people are wearing such fetters.
But these, my friends,
These are the first chains to go.
Only, they will never fall helpless before the faith (or the fervent fuming) of the faint-hearted,
or the half-committed.
From these same six words rings out to every soldier sharpening his sword for such a battle, this thundered imperative- a charge commanding every anguished drop of a soldier’s undying commitment:
Be. thou. pure.
Be thou pure.
Because only purity is stronger than vice.
Anointed.
I love that word.
David says they’re the strong ones, and the free… (Ps. 28:7, 8)
The kings and queens, and priests… Royal. Privileged.
I personally can’t get over the fact that they’ve been touched, prayed over, blessed by God Himself.
The rabbit trail I took through Strong’s landed me in a familiar place, quite possibly the single most memorized chapter in scripture.
But familiar words took on unfamiliar meaning as I saw in them the God that is everything, increasingly (the everything that has no end) to me.
I know the words in english. But if Strong’s is correct, (my soul believes it is) then those words are deeper than our contemporary use of them, by far.
I read them, speak them, love them. Eyes flit back and forth between the open page, and the Strong’s app. And my heart sings something like this–
Anoints…
But not for a throne. Not in this verse.
This one is a relatively rare word, used 12 times, and only translated this way once.
Go look it up.
The reference is to ashes… Ashes, and fat. And “acceptance”…
I truly am not.
Not when I trace the working of God in boyish cursive now 15 years old…
Not when I ask a question, hear in His gentle whisper a familiar strain, and then find the original answer… Written 7 years ago, to the week. 7 years before I asked.
Not when I can understand in retrospect (as if it were the simplest thing in the world) why there was always reason to praise through bleeding days. Always.
I promise you, if you can’t trust Him with your today, it’s because you’ve already forgotten yesterday.
Write. Read. Remember.
You can’t tell the future. That’s why God has given you your past.
Go get yourself a journal.
Some day when every wrong is made right, I will understand the true weight of today. For now, let’s just say it was one of the best days of my entire life…
I step out, zipped and buttoned. Black wool and cashmere reach earthward almost to my knees. The very air is alive with vigor, somewhat like my insides… I go to meet my God in a beautiful field, on a beautiful farm, this beautiful morning of mornings.
I sit on sandstone at the spot where two friends of mine became one months ago, and read…
And my journal, this spiral bound book with my handwriting in it, this book that records the secrets of my broken-hearted moments, this book my Nana gave me, it opens my eyes to the goodness of my God.
Every moment I have lived, every mercy I have tasted, every tear I have shed, every battle I have fought, every dream turned to ashes, was for today.
Today.
Without them, the new dreams springing up would have nothing to root in; to feed on. Because of them, I love my God more than I love anything else in this great wide world. And I love all that is (are!) His…
Hours pass and I wander around the pond; ponder why my heart is here today anyway…
It was just a pebble.
Just a friend who doesn’t even know it happened. But just because they love Jesus, because they love what is high and holy and pure, and just because I was blessed to catch a glimpse of it when I was momentarily unsure of what to do with my sword, just because of that; them…..
Some day when every wrong is made right, I will understand the true weight of today.
Mean time, I will never again underestimate the power of influence…
Even if it does seem like just a pebble…
When we moved to this little place we call “Sweetwater” 10 years ago this week, we had no idea what we were getting into. We only knew that Heaven had some surprises in store… and ready or not, we were on our way!
It can truly be said that we’ve “grown up here”. Never before have we stayed in one place so long… But durational roots are not what bind our hearts here. We’re bound by a love for our Father that has grown, and a love for each other that has deepened because of the many moments – easy and hard – that are now behind us.
We love it here because it is here we learned to love…
And tomorrow we’ll wake up to the first day of the next 10 years.
Oh Lord Jesus, teach us yet more… We really do love You.
© 2024 Unsatisfied By Average
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑
Recent Comments