Ugh. I feel stuck again. There is this incredible inertia that is like a magnet holding me down in bed in the morning, or drawing me to food or fiction ...
I can function in this mode -- I am getting to work on time (sometimes barely), and I have managed so far to keep the family's clothes clean... but I have this nagging feeling that God wants more from me than a life in which I am just "functioning."
What has given me hope is a reminder from a new friend that "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against
the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual
forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Eph 6:12). My struggle isn't even against my own flesh, though it would seem so. The struggle is against the Enemy, and there is no way I can fight that battle on my own. In an ironic turn of truth, self-control is not possible without surrender.
In my word study on self-control, and the old fashioned-sounding synonym "temperance," I found that it was only used 4 times in three verses in the New Testament, and one of those times was in reference to Pauls' behavior. The other references are Galations 5:22 (the Fruit of the Spirit), and 1 Peter 1:6. What struck me is a verse later on in 1 Peter - "He that lacketh these things (knowledge, temperance, patience, godliness) is blind and has forgotten that he was purged from his old sins" (1:9).
Boy doesn't that hit the nail on the head. We HAVE been cleansed, but we so easily forget it! "As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly" (Prov. 26:11). That is such a vivid word picture -- maybe if that comes to mind when the alarm goes off, I can run from it like the stinking smelly regurgitated sin it is.
And perhaps that is how inertia is turned into momentum.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Shalom
Shalom (שָׁלוֹם)
is a Hebrew and Jewish word meaning peace, Nothing missing, Nothing
broken, wellbeing, and complete[1] [2] [3],
and used to mean hello, and goodbye.
(http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org)
I have been captivated by this word, particularly in the way
it implies wholeness. I thought of it
while reading David James Duncan’s novel The Brothers K, when Kincaid,
the main character, describes his vision of the Kingdom of God. In the beautiful treeless landscape of
heaven there are several pools. He
approaches one, hoping to escape from the group, and he sees a miniature
version of the world he is on, including
…a boy who must
correspond to- or perhaps even be, me.
He was like me, he was exactly like me. Yet he wasn’t me at all. There was none of my confusion in him, none
of my nervousness, nothing the least bit sad or dull or hesitant. His features were mine exactly, with a
single, all-encompassing difference: they had that indescribable quality – the kingdom
quality. He belonged to the world or worlds around him as surely as the
greenness belongs to the grass, and the longer I looked at him, the longer we
watched each other, the more I felt like a huge sloppy cartoon caricature of
the being who the boy in the pool really was. (p. 84)
I’ve come to believe that the Kingdom of God within each of
us contains a version of ourselves with the kingdom quality, and part of
our purpose in life is to discover that vision and rise above sloppy earthly
caricatures of our kingdom selves.
Before you dismiss this thought as sacrilegious, let me acknowledge that
the vision is God inspired, and only with the sure knowledge of God’s
unconditional love can we rise above the fear of failure and live boldly as the
people we were made to be.
It reminds me also of a truth expressed by Steve Brown, one
of my favorite podcasters. He asserts
that almost anything of value is a by-product of something else. If we search for this vision, we will be
miserable. But if we live our lives in
thanksgiving to the God of the universe, we will discover along the way our
unique giftedness and calling.
So as a greeting to you all, I say Shalom, and in that
beautiful word I express the confidence that you are more than what I see with
these earthly eyes. Shalom.
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