More need of endurance

And so I found that the inhabitants of the far reaches were generally there by choice. Their decision to bear up under the varied conditions was propelled by a love which seemed evident always, as if never denoting a choice was made at all. This doggedness magnified a greater zeal, their zeal prompted purpose, and their purpose splayed a magnified joy and dignity in the simplest of tasks. I remember feeling crazily alive when I first carved out a path to my wooden shack in a six-foot snow drift, where I lived on a blustery hilltop with a few other committed folks -- the immense task of living finally seemed to take on meaning, and the tenacity required in my days burgeoned into conclusions I am only realizing now.

Comparatively, I've been struck by the pilgrimage the believer is to make in this life, and how much is needed in this similar strand of endurance. I've chosen to run in a race that finds victory or failure at the end, and while secured in a covenant which He will keep, I must stay with Him and continue in this trial as my love for Him is tested, purified, and won. Truly, the content of my days are stacking and building to make one compound existence known as a life; I am protected by the power of God as much as I am confounded daily by the choices I face, the seemingly inconsequential moments I waste, and the reality that all that is present is soon to be passed.

I speak here in simplicity for the profundity of past days leaves me always a promise of recollection, and diminishes as I step back to view it. I recognize today, as in all others that I have "need of endurance so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what was promised." Heb. 10:36. On this humdrum day of rain, disappointment, and failure -- I have need of endurance; to press in to receive forgiveness, and to grab a hold of the grace I need to move forward. I think of the journey of Christian in Pilgrim's Progress as he makes his way to Celestial City. All along his path he is met with obstacles; he flees the City of Destruction only to slide into the Slough of Despond, helping him out is Worldly Wiseman, Mr. Legality and his son Civility; he meets many others along the way as he encounters Giant Despair, Vanity Fair, and Doubting Castle. I am encouraged just to think that so many others have both encountered and termed these skulking foes that plague my walk. I am strengthened as was Christian by Faithful, and ask you also to pick up your pallet this day and walk.

Perseverance

I am currently combing through a great braid of nostalgia. I've been peering at mountains and reciting analogies all day in my little mind. A dear saint celebrates his 69th birthday, and little, connected themes have beaded and linked all throughout my mind's eye this evening. Glistening lights blur out my right, the mandolin is howling in my heart, my first Christmas tree stands at attention (not yet lit), and my mind is marching through some themes recently cemented and now celebrated.

Some weeks ago I verbally delivered my conclusions on the people I've encountered in the far northern mountains; they've smoothed my own ripples, and intimated to me the perseverance of the saints. I've thought of the whipping winds, far off gully's, and all that those northern regions boast. I've attempted to sort out my love for the mountains, and have concluded 1.) that it's true love 2.) that they are very instructive to me.

I relish effort. I like wildness, intensity, beauty, rawness, and the bleak mid-winter which presents itself always in the far north. These features innately appeal to me, and drew me long before I could understand the why. I have always preferred first the ore, and find delight then in the shavings from it presenting that purposeful product. Weather is secondary to living, but in it we find so many analogies and so very much truth.

The mountains grant the sweetest of repose, for the gift comes with toil. Clouds part and the sun shines to truly grant life and peace after much ado about many things. You find there a respite which lasts but a shake -- its presentation bringing spring, summer, and fall at once and pounds the earth with a plenty no storehouse can contain. The amenities offer now a shield, but sustain no man from the rapping torment of the tumult and wind.

To be continued... Soon...

Thirty

I was awakened to slits of sun slipping through my shades -- heavy frost had climbed to the tops of the trees, and all that glistened was smiling. Joy's fount gurgled and spurted some as I sat to sip my coffee and read.

Endless thoughts have been spreading themselves and covering me with concepts I cannot forget - thus I've taken to my post in sorting, in hopes that somewhere here I might deduce enough to compel a complete change of mind.

As 30 landed upon me last week, I've been attempting to surmise what embodied my twenties. I see a feisty fireball at the onset with just enough sparking splayed to enter more subtly into thirty. I see intense joys coupled with crippling confusion -- great faith, and rock bottom doubt and despair. I recall the voracity with which I devoured truth and the accompanying disillusionment that followed great billowing swells and faith, hope, and disappointment.

Perhaps this is the common score for the twenties, but I tell you, I want the thirties to strike deeper and last longer. I am no longer yearning quite so intensely to find the most incredible way to spend all of my days, but rather I'd not mind spending them all in another's shadow, be I always tucked neath His wings. I'd like my ups taken slower, and my downs with perspective, and words administered in truth and love, consistently to all those around me. I desire only to do that which is right, and to be strengthened in this resolve that teeters and lessens the further I step from it remembrance. I have many thoughts on perseverance I wish to explore, but I cannot yet squeeze them out.

Psalm 19

1 The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
2 Day to day pours forth speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.
3 There is no speech, nor are there words;
Their voice is not heard.
4 Their line has gone out through all the earth,
And their utterances to the end of the world.
In them He has placed a tent for the sun,
5 Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber;
It rejoices as a strong man to run his course.
6 Its rising is from one end of the heavens,
And its circuit to the other end of them;
And there is nothing hidden from its heat.
7 The law of the Lord is perfect, restoring the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.
8 The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.
9 The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgments of the Lord are true; they are righteous altogether.
10 They are more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.
11 Moreover, by them Your servant is warned;
In keeping them there is great reward.
12 Who can discern his errors? Acquit me of hidden faults.
13 Also keep back Your servant from presumptuous sins;
Let them not rule over me;
Then I will be blameless,
And I shall be acquitted of great transgression.
14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
Be acceptable in Your sight,
O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.

Let The Words Of My Mouth

Unbelief

I've been meaning to compose a followup post since I wrote Isolation. I was thinking then, and haven't yet stopped. When my faith eye seems most dim, I am reminded of Hebrews, and I go there to refocus on the Light.

I am staring now at fall's radiance: soft green blades, fluttering aspens, and a waving sumac heralding the azure sky. The starlings descend and spread, ascend and scatter, and all about is the burgeoning earth, pressing out its bounty, listless clouds above -- and I sit here to ponder this world I cannot love.

I am amazed at times, to think of the enormity of folly that comprises man's days. From the debauch lives of celebrities, the treasuries we fill, or the ridiculous things we value and esteem -- I am astounded by our absurdity. The lack of foresight, discretion, and hope is blinding. I see these things in my culture and in my heart, and I conclude that they and I are riddled with the pandemic of unbelief.

I see in Hebrews that the wilderness wanderers were not permitted to enter the promised land because of this, by it our hearts are hardened, our assessments skewed, and when mastered by it, our perception of truth is wholly distorted and always maligned.

In response to the Isolation post, I was challenged by these verses: 12 Take care, brethren, that there not be in any one of you an evil, unbelieving heart that falls away from the living God. 13 But encourage one another day after day, as long as it is still called “Today,” so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. 14 For we have become partakers of Christ, if we hold fast the beginning of our assurance firm until the end. (Heb. 3:12-14)

My heart is rather burdened by this reality, and the trends I see in culture, the church, and in every facet of life. There is a realm which is more real than those singing starlings, fuller and more vibrant than the most glorious temporal day -- a world that is set up in eternity; an unshakable, unending reality where hope and glory do not waiver or fade, but whose brightness is fueled by the reigning Savior's sway, and by which the believing heart is saved.

The writer of the Hebrews goes on to say, 10:35 Therefore, do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. 36 For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised.

Our lives are determined by the fruit of our days, and in them we decide whether our experience will trump what the Bible says is true, or if we will stack up our sorrows and let them imbue the faith we have realized and all the glories sure to come.

C.S. Lewis wrote: “He who has God and everything else has no more than he who has God only.”

He is real, and surely is worthy of all our affection, and every cloistered corridor which has lead away from Him -- join with me friends, in walking back to that fount Everlasting.

It's been too long since I've been here. My life has been a spring bubbling up and settling down before time is there to catch a cup. I've been scrambling and settled, sorrowful and rejoicing, and impassioned as ever. Analogies land and lift as a new day dawns, and with each entrance of the sun, I wonder how I might channel and spread this current which presses and pulses within.

At just the right time relief finds me. A good word is ingested, a kindly smile received, a ray of beauty penetrates -- and the restless confusion that rises, is stilled. And so it happened in an unlikely way: I received word that my dear pastor was riddled with cancer. My mind took to the reality of his circumstances, and the faith he has possessed for the majority of his life.

My focus on the reality of my current world with my emblazoned attempts to love frightened people, my frustration and sin -- all this collided with the realization of this dear man's ebbing life... and Jesus stilled me in a way that only He can.

We met as a family at our beloved Knoebels amusement park on Saturday, and I determined while crashing into others, that bumper cars are good medicine! My entire soul smiled to see young and old collide and crash with what seemed their entire person. I saw the worn marks of men lifted upwards, the sorrowed-out crows feet smiling at me, and I saw my dad with laughter plastered on a face so familiar. I loved my family deeply, and over funnel cake, lemonade, and roller-coasters, I felt life ebb away, and with it, those fears I have as I embrace the prickly.

I entered the hospital the next day, and the blue of my pastor's eyes poured forth like the sky on the snowy day's reprieve. Eternal love poured forth from that man, and for those first moments, I forgot that his abdomen was held together by string. Love touched me so tangibly, and I felt at home there -- a midst the tubes and turmoil, the object of my affection was so manifest between us that the sterility of that room served only to lift and liven, and fix that chord which binds us so deeply. He asked me to pray, and as the words gushed, my chords locked, and I was transported to what will be.

My computer is now going to die.