Just received a thank you note from a F.5 girl. She thanked me for the assembly messages, the Bible studies, the prayer meetings, for praying with her one time when she cried.
Somehow, this made me cry.
Has it really been such a grueling two years?
Perhaps not... it was tough in spots, I've been sleep-deprived and stressed, but it hasn't been terrible all the way.
Why did I tear up?
I think all through these two years I've asked the question - what difference does it make? The Lord is encouraged me throughout the way with little signs, but still, the thought lurks in my head, and again and again I return to a state where I believe none of the hard work really adds up to anything.
He didn't have to send another piece of encouragement, but today, He did.
Imagine what rejoicing there will be in heaven when God reveals the fullness of the fruit of His intricate planning and linking and weaving from time eternal!
That I would learn to welcome these things from afar, and not live in a disheartened state!
Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.
- 1 John 3:2
May 26, 2010
Mar 3, 2010
Stepping into March, and each day is a reminder that I'm reaching a quarter of a century old... I don't know when this began (I'm sure it was all too soon), but some years ago I started dreading my birthday, in stark contrast to the giddy anticipation of childhood birthdays. I don't think it's the usual fear of getting old, or anxiety about whether I will be remembered. It's the consistent gnawing feeling that I haven't done what I'd wanted to have done by the time I was this age.
It's all very illogical of course, because I can't remember a time when I sat down and decided what I would accomplish by what age. Yet somehow in the back of my mind, there is this murmur of discontent.
The temptation is to scramble to achieve something, or to talk myself into believing that I'm alright. Yet neither comes close to soothing the cry of 'everything inside me looks like everything I hate' (Switchfoot).
So what will it be? Another 25 years of guilt and frenzy and failure and disappointment and scrabbling for some crumb of self-assurance?
A colleague shared this poem with me this week:
'... because he first loved us.' (1 John 4:19)
It's all very illogical of course, because I can't remember a time when I sat down and decided what I would accomplish by what age. Yet somehow in the back of my mind, there is this murmur of discontent.
The temptation is to scramble to achieve something, or to talk myself into believing that I'm alright. Yet neither comes close to soothing the cry of 'everything inside me looks like everything I hate' (Switchfoot).
So what will it be? Another 25 years of guilt and frenzy and failure and disappointment and scrabbling for some crumb of self-assurance?
A colleague shared this poem with me this week:
Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.
'A guest,' I answer'd, 'worthy to be here.'
Love said, 'You shall be he.'
'I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,
I cannot look on Thee.'
Love took my hand adn smiling did reply,
'Who made the eyes but I?'
'Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them. Let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.'
'And know you not,' says Love, 'who bore the blame?'
'My dear, then I will serve.'
'You must sit down.' says Love, 'and taste my meat.'
So I did sit and eat.
- 'Love', George Herbert
'... because he first loved us.' (1 John 4:19)
Feb 9, 2010
I ran for the first time in weeks today. It was muggy, but the sky was perfect. As I started running the heavy cloud cover starting to break, and then there were glimpses of the sun. By the time I had turned round, the clouds were really parting and backlit by the setting sun. Breathtaking. I stopped running for a minute and just took it in.
Lord, You're showing me again that you're beautiful.
I listened to albums that I hadn't for a while during this run, and when Switchfoot's '24' came on, I realized it was the first time I was listening to the song as a 24-year-old... and I only have 1 month left!
Twenty-four oceans
Twenty-four skies
Twenty-four failures and
Twenty-four tries
Twenty-four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty-four drop outs
At the end of the day
Life is not what I thought it was twenty-four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And I'm not who I thought I was twenty-four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
There's twenty four reasons to admit that I'm wrong
With all my excuses still twenty-four strong
You see I'm not copping out not copping out not copping out
When You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, I am the second man now
And You're raising these twenty-four voices
With twenty-four hearts
All of my symphonies
In twenty four parts
But I want to be one today
Centered and true
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, I am the second man now
And You're raising the dead in me yeah, yeah
I want to see miracles, to see the world change
Wrestle the angel, for more than a name
For more than a feeling
For more than a cause
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And You're raising the dead in me
Twenty-four voices
With twenty-four hearts
All of my symphonies
With twenty-four parts
Life is not what I thought it was, twenty-four hours ago
Stil I'm singing, Spirit take me up in arms
I'm not copping out
Not copping out
Not, I'm not copping out
I would never have guessed that these lyrics would be so true of me at 24. I don't want to strive and scramble and be spent for just a feeling of being useful, for the cause of 'betterment'.
I've spent 16 months at DGS, and now I realize I might have lost my direction in there somewhere. So many voices, so many things I want to do, people want me to do, that I think people want me to do. I've failed in so many ways... in relationships, in work, in my walk with You. Lost sight of what was important, jumped from thing to thing, tried to fulfill various tasks, very few satisfactorily, fewer even wholeheartedly.
Where is the triumph I have been seeking?
Yet today You've reminded me, with the sunset and a song, that You are my hope of glory.
Lord, You're showing me again that you're beautiful.
I listened to albums that I hadn't for a while during this run, and when Switchfoot's '24' came on, I realized it was the first time I was listening to the song as a 24-year-old... and I only have 1 month left!
Twenty-four oceans
Twenty-four skies
Twenty-four failures and
Twenty-four tries
Twenty-four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty-four drop outs
At the end of the day
Life is not what I thought it was twenty-four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And I'm not who I thought I was twenty-four hours ago
Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
There's twenty four reasons to admit that I'm wrong
With all my excuses still twenty-four strong
You see I'm not copping out not copping out not copping out
When You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, I am the second man now
And You're raising these twenty-four voices
With twenty-four hearts
All of my symphonies
In twenty four parts
But I want to be one today
Centered and true
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
You're raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, I am the second man now
And You're raising the dead in me yeah, yeah
I want to see miracles, to see the world change
Wrestle the angel, for more than a name
For more than a feeling
For more than a cause
I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And You're raising the dead in me
Twenty-four voices
With twenty-four hearts
All of my symphonies
With twenty-four parts
Life is not what I thought it was, twenty-four hours ago
Stil I'm singing, Spirit take me up in arms
I'm not copping out
Not copping out
Not, I'm not copping out
I would never have guessed that these lyrics would be so true of me at 24. I don't want to strive and scramble and be spent for just a feeling of being useful, for the cause of 'betterment'.
I've spent 16 months at DGS, and now I realize I might have lost my direction in there somewhere. So many voices, so many things I want to do, people want me to do, that I think people want me to do. I've failed in so many ways... in relationships, in work, in my walk with You. Lost sight of what was important, jumped from thing to thing, tried to fulfill various tasks, very few satisfactorily, fewer even wholeheartedly.
Where is the triumph I have been seeking?
Yet today You've reminded me, with the sunset and a song, that You are my hope of glory.
Feb 2, 2010
Sometimes I feel like a kid. I'm tired and then I lose my temper and I get angry at people. Work is overwhelming, so I want to yell at my parents, people around me, the system, whoever is in my way on the way home. I want to blame, blame, blame. My anger prowls for a target.
I'm tired tonight. Not too tired physically, but tired inside. Never thought the tears of teaching would come, not from frustrations with students, but sheer weariness. And, as unreasonable as it is, I want someone to be responsible for the way I feel. I want someone to apologize for how I'm tired and worn and upset.
Yet You draw me to you. You draw me to my knees, draw my heart up, lift my arms in praise. And I realize, though I run after love from man, applause from man or self, rest and comfort and freedom that I design and construct for myself, my heart and my soul truly and only pants for you. I can yell and scream and grasp and fight and complain and hold back, but in the end, I'm just Yours. I don't belong to my work or a person or a cause. Just Yours. Yours to love and use and be worshipped by.
Your grace is enough
I'm covered in Your love
Be exalted again, Abba. Will I draw a line to say, I will only give this much to you? Never! But only by Your grace.
At the altar of the cross, You made a covenant promise to me. And I've said 'I do' to eternity with You. Almost exactly two years ago I said 'I do' to this season of toil. Have I forgotten that one day I will stand before You and be accountable for and rejoice over the fruit of this season?
I know I've let it slip. Lord, tonight, again, 'I do.'
I'm tired tonight. Not too tired physically, but tired inside. Never thought the tears of teaching would come, not from frustrations with students, but sheer weariness. And, as unreasonable as it is, I want someone to be responsible for the way I feel. I want someone to apologize for how I'm tired and worn and upset.
Yet You draw me to you. You draw me to my knees, draw my heart up, lift my arms in praise. And I realize, though I run after love from man, applause from man or self, rest and comfort and freedom that I design and construct for myself, my heart and my soul truly and only pants for you. I can yell and scream and grasp and fight and complain and hold back, but in the end, I'm just Yours. I don't belong to my work or a person or a cause. Just Yours. Yours to love and use and be worshipped by.
Your grace is enough
I'm covered in Your love
Be exalted again, Abba. Will I draw a line to say, I will only give this much to you? Never! But only by Your grace.
At the altar of the cross, You made a covenant promise to me. And I've said 'I do' to eternity with You. Almost exactly two years ago I said 'I do' to this season of toil. Have I forgotten that one day I will stand before You and be accountable for and rejoice over the fruit of this season?
I know I've let it slip. Lord, tonight, again, 'I do.'
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