photos – Page 8 – Unsatisfied By Average

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Imperative of the Supernatural

November 14, 2011 / Seán / 7 Comments

The sound of dry leaves underfoot charms me through. (I’m a midwesterner by breeding.)
I shuffle for the joy of the sound; the joy of the smell…

I breathe pure November under naked oak and hickory;
pause to watch the world readying for white…

And I wonder:

When a man of God does, who does the doing?

I have heard more than one new recruit on the field say to his fellow:

“Buck up, man! You’ve got what it takes.”

Hm.
Kinda.

I’m unconvinced. Especially when I remember that Adam in his spotless strength and beauty drew every drop of nobility he possessed from his connection to his Maker… even though he was fresh from the hands of God (and thus was arguably in the best place to stand alone). His glory, his perfection, his holiness were gifts given not to stand alone, but to put and keep him in connection with the Perfect and Holy… And even as every leaf today draws it’s life force, and every star it’s brilliance from the heartbeat of God, Adam drew his glory from the Infinite.

I other words, the crown of God’s crowning creation (read: humanity) was the connection with Heaven.
What can be compared?

But disconnect… Now there’s a real problem.

[I bend down, aim my iPhone a few inches above grade.]

Disconnect perfect angels, and you get demons.
Disconnect perfect and glorious humanity, and… Well, look around you.

And if Adam needed so badly to be connected to his God… then what are we thinking when we blaze off on our own? Or when we foolishly unfit ourselves for the inhabitance of the Holy Spirit… (emphasis on the word Holy.)

Every man of God, ever woman of God, is nothing.
The image of God, yes… But every shadow disappears when the object is removed.
Without the Supernatural indwelling, we are lifeless, empty shells.

Or worse.

Yea, much worse… the indwelling of the other supernatural.

You’re just a shell, my friend. Just a shell…

Ah, but what glory, when filled with Heaven itself!?
What an honor, to be God’s shadow.

Then let everything else be cast out, that we might not restrict the inflow of the Spirit.
Darkness and Light cannot both be.

Let the Light so shine…

To Fight or Not to Fight, That is The Question

November 8, 2011 / Seán / 8 Comments

Consider this Science of Temptation, part 2.

I was born to be a warrior.

So were you.

Trouble is, most warriors today are in confusion over titles and job descriptions.

If grace and faith are really sufficient, what need have we of war?

– – –

I pace the floor of my basement office, from french door to bookshelf and back.
It’s cold in here. But my mind works best that way.

My finger runs past scores of titles on the shelf–
Past my Greek New Testament, Waggoner’s commentary on Isaiah, 11 journals…
Testimonies to Ministers, Conflict of the Ages, and great Christian classics.
Leather bound, paper bound, hard bound…

I find the one I’m looking for.

And I pace again, my whole posture insisting on an answer.

Temptation’s power is utterly insufficient for the man or woman who takes God at His Word, and denies the tempter’s underlying lie:
“I’ve got something better.” *

End of conversation.

But if the power of temptation is truly thus neutralized, is there no need of war?

Ahh, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

The promises are completely (and exclusively) sufficient to vanquish the enemy. The money is in your pocket already. (Do yourself a favor and depend on it, because no other currency of your own earning will pay the debt, either.)

But we are soldiers. We wrestle.
Oh, but why??

“Conversion. . .does not put new flesh upon the old spirit; but a new Spirit within the old flesh. . . Deliverance and victory are not gained by having the human nature taken away; but by receiving the divine nature to subdue and have dominion over the human.” **

Paul was surely talking of a wrestling match when he said “I keep under my body…” [better english word order would be, “I keep my body under me“]

Yet he speaks not of wrestling with the tempter… Christ Himself would not do that. ***
The tempter is to be dismissed by the Word.

But to wrestle the flesh is the work of the will.

To receive the power of the engrafted Word, we must align ourselves (read: obedience) with that Word.

And there is nothing easy about that.

But if being a soldier were easy, there would be no honor associated with the title.

This room is still cold.
A mild allergy to gas flame means I awaken more alert with the heat off.
The flesh hates 50 degrees in the morning. Every morning.
But I have only three choices. Stay in bed and lose Gospel battles, turn up the heat, wake up groggy, and lose Gospel steam…

Or get up anyway.

I’ll take the third.

* * * * *

The book slides back into it’s place on the shelf.

We must fight. White knuckled and sore armed. Discipline. Sacrifice. Self-control.

That is our battle.

There is no substitute for obedience.

Fight, soldier. Fight.

– – –

* “The tempter can never compel us to do evil. He cannot control minds unless they are yielded to his control. The will must consent, faith must let go its hold upon Christ, before Satan can exercise his power upon us.” DA 125.2

** A. T. Jones, Review and Herald, April 18, 1899

*** “Though Jesus recognized Satan from the beginning, He was not provoked to enter into controversy with him. . .He would not parley with temptation. . . Jesus met Satan with the words of Scripture. ‘It is written,’ He said. In every temptation the weapon of His warfare was the word of God. . .So long as Christ held to this position, the tempter could gain no advantage.” DA 120

Thy Thoughts Towards Me

November 1, 2011 / Seán / 6 Comments

“How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!

If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand…”

Psalms 139:17-18

Crashing waves on endless beaches always do something moving in my soul.

For the larger God looms, the less I fear my problems.

And God grows at the beach in my little mind. By virtue of sheer volume of sand; sheer power of water.

If you don’t understand me, go count the grains in a teaspoon of sand from the neighbor kid’s sandbox.

My long silence has had to do with crossing the United States by car. (then back again). The trip is only half done… But one of the highlights was certainly gathering on the beach at AMEN conference with the surgeons, physicians, dentists, and PHDs and their little ones building sand sculptures from the bible.

You’ve never watched anything like it…

See. Change. See change.

September 3, 2011 / Seán / 5 Comments

Spent last weekend in the wilderness… One of the most refreshing in my memory.
Since then I’ve stopped only to tumble into bed for what feels like a few fleeting hours before getting on the move again.
But each morning, when my iTunes playlist heralds the coming of day, it seems I’m back in my sleeping bag, miles from nowhere…

And I close my eyes again, but I do not sleep. Instead, I cringe at what I can almost see through my closed eyelids:

An immaculately robed high priest, rubbing his hands as he watches Judas go.
A man in the agony of death, ignored by his sleeping friends.
A kiss, of all things.
Wrists tied hard.
Lawless judges.
Strong man’s shoulders heaving with sobs after he realized he’d done the unthinkable, and cursed his Friend.
Blood drops on Pilate’s portico.
Frenzied, frenzied rage.
Roman rulers with pale faces, and trembling hearts.
Tears running down salty on the face of the Condemned.
Parents screaming curses on their own children… (His blood be upon us…!)
Thorns.
Nails.
The King raised up to die.
His best friend (just a boy!) upholding His mother…

In the tent when I first (at random, I thought) decided to hear out all four perspectives back to back, I didn’t know what I was getting in to…
But I’ve learned why we’re counseled to spend “a thoughtful hour” daily contemplating these themes…

Sin loses its hold after you’ve watched Him die…

Full Cups and New Friends…

August 11, 2011 / Seán / 8 Comments

I learned today how to make a full cup fuller…
Surround yourself with european friends three tiers high, and talk about war.

Seriously, guys… Why do we have to nearly starve before we’re ready for bread?

friends: three tiers high

sermon notes. (green version)

Marcel manipulating languages

faces

Frank Fournier: fellow “American” and new friend 🙂

This one is for the Fords. 😉

more friends

my pal again. (fun to take pictures of!)

listening

we interrupted a birthday party on outreach. Second from left there got Happy Birthday, and Always Cheerful.

the neighborhood natives lead the way

p.s. you don’t have to speak the same language to be friends…

Outreach!

August 11, 2011 / Seán / 1 Comment

I love it when a group of kids knocks on the door, and after they have finished singing and the owner has selected a Great Controversy (of all things!) from their stash of “free gifts,” they offer to pray for blessings on that house, and the owner crashes in with his own beautiful prayer of blessing for them…

I love it when a simple songs strikes a solid chord because the heart was made soft by a brother’s recent passing…

I love it when the neighborhood kids get excited right along with us, and wait with huge smiles with their scooters and unicycle for us to pick them up each afternoon to sing to he rest of the town.

I love it when those same neighborhood kids tell me all the english phrases they’ve learned in school, while I stretch my poor tongue to make German sounds back, and we all laugh, friends.

It is hard not to love this place.

we set out

that’s my pal there

and his harmonica is a big hit

neighborhood girls

surrounded by friends

(most of whom have names difficult to pronounce)

this is real fun

next door

see my friends with the wheels?

how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news…

Speak, Dear Jesus…

August 9, 2011 / Seán / 2 Comments

Let every word count; every action count.
Speak through our eyes with the language of Heaven when we can’t speak with our tongues the language of this beautiful land.
We love You…
And we love these Your children.

The famous Edelweiß, only in the Alps.

odd man out.

If you’ve never had German bread… Well, you’ve never had bread.

Nebblett & Nebblett

Breakout.

Church in Three Languages

August 7, 2011 / Seán / 5 Comments

Love it. 🙂

And we love meeting young people in other parts of the world that have the same fire burning in their souls that burns in ours. The army is growing…

Halfway to Heaven?

August 5, 2011 / Seán / 1 Comment

Spent hours this morning in a warm little Austrian living room, talking of Heaven… (While the clouds were deciding whether or not to cry.) Now my heart carries a peculiar little twinge.

I want to go Home…

But then I look out the window and remember where I am, and what I have left to do before it’s time to leave.

Heaven is my home, but earth is my workplace.

And it’s not yet time to go…

. . . . . . . . .

I live on a cursed planet, thanks to my first father’s ingratitude.

But I think the curse rests more heavily in some places than others.

This place is unreal. The pictures are pitiful.

I’ve never been to a place where the curse seems to rest more lightly.

Look, the sun just came out.

But We Know Better

August 2, 2011 / Seán / 7 Comments

We were loathe to leave.

Something made me linger in the entrance of the Waldensian temple clutching the side of the Alps. And I wasn’t alone…

. . . . . . .

I turn again to face the pulpit, camera in one hand:

“La Croce é la potenza di Dio Noi predichiamo Cristo crocifisso”

The place still rings from our last song… But once more my lips part:

Because the Lord our God is good,

His mercy is forever sure

His truth at all times firmly stood

And shall from age to age endure…

Shouldn’t we always end with the Doxology?

My hear throbs fullness as I walk once more towards the door.

What a day!

– Breakfast in the shadow of the cliff where 19 year old boys, and 14 year old girls, and mothers with their babies sealed their testimonies and the rocks cried red.

– The school that young men left never to come home unless they dropped of exhaustion before they died at the stake.

– The stone table, [the very table!] where they copied line after line of scripture with cold fingers all winter long so that the next generation wouldn’t have to die in darkness.

– The canyon fog rolled down.

– The pool where the mocking captain filled his lungs with freezing water instead of air, while the insults were still on his tongue...

My fist closes around the iron gate, lungs take in air hard.

My gaze fixes afar.

Natasha steps up behind me; silent.

“Tah-ley…”

“Yes?”

“‘His truth at all times firmly stood.'”

“Mhm”

“And shall from age to age endure.”

“Mmmm…”

“Some thought it was nearly gone…”