I've suddenly been hungry for home in a bigger way recently. It could be the fact that I've been home a total of two (count 'em) weeks the entire year, it could be the fact that people at home have been missing me and letting me know it, it could be the fact that even though here feels like home on the surface, in its depth there are still very intrinsic things missing. Or it could be that it is autumn, and autumn always makes me lonesome for the things I want out of life. Whatever they be.
Home is certainly one, though.
I'm learning to stand on my own again. I don't know how or why exactly I began to find crutches on which to lean, or how or why exactly those crutches broke beneath my leaning, but I'm learning to quell the bile in my stomach when I think of all the things I'm not brave enough to do on my own, and confessing that I am able. And that I am brave enough.
And that even when I'm not, He is.
Peter wasn't billed as the disciple whom Jesus loved. He wasn't the student of spirit like John the Baptist. And he wasn't going to bend down and wash anyone's feet. But somehow Jesus was friends with him. Somehow, with the sort of tossing that the book of James talks about, Peter was able to keep Jesus' attention. He was the first out of the boat, the one told to get behind, the rock upon which the church would be built, and the speaker of three denials. If anyone was inconsistent in their faith, in their attempts to reach some sort of balance and medium, it was Peter. But some reason Jesus maintained consistency in all his interactions with him.
I've been glaringly aware of my lack of balance recently. It's supposed to come easily to people like me, phlegmatic sorts who don't get rocked by much; or at least it always has. But of late I'm as inconsistent and unreliable as Peter was in his attempts to be radically obedient. And I guess the thing is that I'm realizing that it is not consistency, or reliability, or a balance between reckless abandonment and confident contentedness, or any of the things that I'm convinced that Christian living is supposed to be. Obedience is the requirement. That's it. That's all.
Living each day with an expectation that my will is utterly lost and without purpose unless it has at its core a complete desperation to obey the Lord--without hesitation, without complaining, without question.
Home is certainly one, though.
I'm learning to stand on my own again. I don't know how or why exactly I began to find crutches on which to lean, or how or why exactly those crutches broke beneath my leaning, but I'm learning to quell the bile in my stomach when I think of all the things I'm not brave enough to do on my own, and confessing that I am able. And that I am brave enough.
And that even when I'm not, He is.
Peter wasn't billed as the disciple whom Jesus loved. He wasn't the student of spirit like John the Baptist. And he wasn't going to bend down and wash anyone's feet. But somehow Jesus was friends with him. Somehow, with the sort of tossing that the book of James talks about, Peter was able to keep Jesus' attention. He was the first out of the boat, the one told to get behind, the rock upon which the church would be built, and the speaker of three denials. If anyone was inconsistent in their faith, in their attempts to reach some sort of balance and medium, it was Peter. But some reason Jesus maintained consistency in all his interactions with him.
I've been glaringly aware of my lack of balance recently. It's supposed to come easily to people like me, phlegmatic sorts who don't get rocked by much; or at least it always has. But of late I'm as inconsistent and unreliable as Peter was in his attempts to be radically obedient. And I guess the thing is that I'm realizing that it is not consistency, or reliability, or a balance between reckless abandonment and confident contentedness, or any of the things that I'm convinced that Christian living is supposed to be. Obedience is the requirement. That's it. That's all.
Living each day with an expectation that my will is utterly lost and without purpose unless it has at its core a complete desperation to obey the Lord--without hesitation, without complaining, without question.
posted by Lore at 23.10.06
4 Comments:
Look for an email from me.
looking. looking. nope. haven't found it yet.
I think home is hungry for you.
:)
i'd tell you to look for an email from me, too, but emails keep getting left half-finished in my draft box -- if i even get that far.
i've been in maine for two weeks. we're leaving this afternoon. so how about this: look for a call from me this weekend.
'cause i love you tons. and i think of you all the time.
'member when we lived in the same house and went to potsdam at least once a week together -- and we'd sit and sip chai before separating for our errands and appointments? i do.
that was fun.
that was another lifetime. wow.
k. gotta go finish laundry. fun!
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