newer leaves, cleaner slates and better beginnings

Very shortly this blog will be dissolved, and I will begin a new one entitled Gospel Fuel. I have decided upon taking a similar direction as far as style and content, but approaching it with a cleaner, more streamlined platform. In addition, there will be far more frequent and varied posts, as well as some future guest blogging. Some content currently posted here will be republished there as well.

Using blogspot.com as a temporary launch site and occasional outlet for my thoughts has been educational, but I look forward to establishing something more permanent and active in April. For those who are curious, feel free to visit the new website, which is currently under maintenance. I have completed the "About" section, which you can check out here:

http://gospelfuel.me/about/

g.o.s.p.e.l.

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes."



a poem for her with saving grace

Below is a poem I recently composed for my bride of seven years.  Today it is her birthday, and I am reminded of just how much God has blessed me by forming and planning her days.  The moments we have spent together have been gifted to both of us from a Father who knows the heart's deepest desires and takes pleasure in allowing us to love each other well.

Although I have made many grievous errors and poor choices throughout the years, my wife's patience, forgiveness and faithfulness have prevailed.  She has stuck with me through thick and thin and increasingly reflects a desire to mirror Proverbs 31.  Thank you, Lord for giving me a gracious helpmate and friend!  And happy birthday my love.

For years enjoyed, yet all for granted:
Your devotion allotted such weak reception.
Priceless grace, unwavering reprieve;
Long taken, tho n’er received.

Uncelebrated treasure withheld a cache;
The odds so high against anything to last.
Ignored and woefully unrequited;
Oh, hours given over to bitter repentance!

And now a gasp of comprehension;
What once was easily found, finally explicit.
The vows which doth make a true, unyielding union:
Not simply spoke, but bound fast and now determined.

Your life, yes, such a stroke of blessed fortune;
An unwearied partnership I could n’er afforded.
Thine affection, a thousand times more potent
Than a dying breath, that brief, uttered moment.

Composed by the maestro’s impassioned charge;
Engaged in concert, a reciprocal love at large.
One sweet fell swoop of notes upon immortal sheet;
Thank you for according me a song to sing.

My all and only one, my bride, my eternal embrace:
I am thrown out of step and in to love by your saving grace.

song of the sea

"The enemy said, ‘I will pursue, I will overtake,
I will divide the spoil, my desire shall have its fill of them.
I will draw my sword; my hand shall destroy them.’
You blew with your wind; the sea covered them;
they sank like lead in the mighty waters.

  

Who is like you, O Lord, among the gods?

Who is like you, majestic in holiness,

awesome in glorious deeds, doing wonders?

You stretched out your right hand;

the earth swallowed them.

You have led in your steadfast love the people whom you have redeemed;

you have guided them by your strength to your holy abode..

The Lord will reign forever and ever."   [Exodus 15:9-13,18]

In our hearts and on our lips must be a mighty refrain: An affirmation that we will allow God to do the saving and God to do the judging.  A profound assurance that in the end, every knee will bow.  And, finally, an unashamed confession that we are His people, and not our own - that we were placed on this earth to glorify the only true God, to mirror Jesus Christ, to deliver His very good news, and to trust in the Lord with all of our might for the rest!

Come quickly Lord!

The Epic [in fragments and seasons]

As we take a step, or perhaps stumble back to observe life, we cannot help but witness that all is not well in the world.  Any examination which overlooks the darkness of disease, crime, injustice, poverty, hunger, pain, death and decay is sorely deluded.  Everything seems amiss.  And something is.

"So I hated life, because what was done under the sun was grievous to me..."

In between clamoring for the latest objects of our affection, we humans timidly lift the shades up from over eyes and hate so much of what we see.  All is not well as we peer into the rock face of cold cavern walls painted with history.  A light is there – somewhere outside the stony confines – but it only reflects the giant shadows of tragedy all around us.  Like a calculated curse, the shades of black and gray reflect off of the wall, dancing chaotically for our bemusement.  And so we sit perplexed by this dark.

"an evil in all that is done under the sun..."

All of us, even those who claim to know it, seek the meaning of life.  Moreover, we wish to define that meaning in our own terms, secretly self-soothing by publicly convincing someone of our own explanation of it all.  Is this endeavor to make meaning out of everything the vain attempt of any given lunatic?  And is our native desire to know and be known preparation for some grand disappointment?  Is everything senseless apart from our largely unimpressive efforts to define and live out a vague, disputable morality?

"All things are full of weariness..."

We observe a particular universality on this earth riddled with questions and arguments for answers:  It is the longing for something larger-than-life.  We humans flock like migrating foul to our cinemas; we hungrily devour our novels; our cheers swell stadiums of thousands for greatness to be achieved; we devote our lives to watching and reading and forming an epic, a mere reflection of The Epic.  Indeed, we are creatures who lust after impressive acts of grandeur and greatness.  We thirst for significance in our families, friendships and employment.  We murmur for a larger purpose and labor for a greater legacy.  With squinted eyes, we search for methods to make an impact and brace ourselves in hope for a grandiose ending.

"...The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing."

So is there a reason we seek this universal acclaim and appeal?  How can such an omnipresent desire be the result of a game of odds?  How can such steady stream of consciousness be the mere product of fine-tuned biological evolution?  There has to be a motive for this impulse to search out a savior, to glorify a hero, to be an actor on the stage of an extraordinary theater of existence.

"I applied my heart to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven."

I am a realist, and yet a dreamer.  I don't believe to be excludes being the other.  I look at life as it is:  dirty, messy, confused, wonderful.  I look at all of these elements together and I buckle down, resisting the urge to wince away the pain, to flinch at the severity, to shrink from the truth or to cower from the tragedy.  Life is what it is.  And I am no snowflake.  I am just a melted puddle taking up an inch of ground on a blue sphere that craves oneness.   I don’t dream unique dreams, but I do envision the common one.  The Epic.

"I perceived that whatever God does endures forever, nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it."

The Epic compels me to see things clearly, and to dream.  I am not ashamed to go dumpster-diving for dreams.  I inexhaustibly chase for that which seems unattainable and inaccessible.  The curious chase of a man with a Mona Lisa joy.  An awareness of the world around me does not subdue my inward happiness, nor the deep longing to reflect evidences of grace to an unmerciful planet.

"I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man..."

Although the earth's inhabitants collectively cry, "Peace! Peace!" there is none on this plane of existence.  Nations and governments and races and communities are in perpetual, ongoing turmoil.  Life seems insufferable at times, yet my shoulders must not give way.  For I know that life is truly not upon them.  We only struggle against this present darkness.  Against the unseen we wage war, while pressing forward to better the visible in the ways in which we're led.  All around us is the still-breathing echo of lost souls who have no savior, and my frequent immobility is discomforting.

"Vanity of vanities!  All is vanity."

In life, there is no stasis – no neutral.  We are either toppling backwards or hurtling forward.  Lungs expand with oxygen and hearts pump in worship to something or someone.  Make no mistake; we are continuously glorifying __________.  What or who do we fall upon our faces for?  It is extremism at its finest, this idea of perpetual adoration.  We esteem so completely that which we aspire for.  And still our faces meet with the empty asphalt time and time again.  From all appearances, we're fanatics for chronic pain and separation.  And yet as believers and disciples of Jesus Christ, all of our affections are so rightly meant for our God.

"He has put eternity into man's heart..."

Through the cracks of our own human nature and its attraction to damage, there comes an eternal equilibrium both radical and controlled.  It is an offer inconceivably met with refusal countless billions of times.  And yet the true Christian has received it with open heart.  It is a bid to be hoisted up onto the stage of life by its very Host.  The Host proceeds to offer us a morsel of the incredible story He authors.

"...then I saw all the work of God..."

The free, unmerited gift of salvation challenges us – not to conquer what we do not understand or what we do not agree with – but to bind faith to our hearts when remaining a foe seems far more appealing.  It dares us to bow our heads in quiet, confident trust.  Likewise, it commands we take up a position that will not be silenced.  Rebirth demands our absolute forfeiture of the pursuit for popularity, power, prestige and prominence in return for the Prince of Peace.

"for apart from Him . . . who can have enjoyment?" 

Many Christians and non-believers alike would have us believe that beholding the world as drenched in sin and darkness is a destructive form of cynicism.  But I think that what they call cynicism is really just the obvious shadows up there on the cave wall.  The greater danger and the inevitable defeat lies with the individual believing their self to be the highest summit to discover.

"...this also is but a striving after wind."

The single-most liberating truth I have learned about myself is that it isn't all about myself.  I am only a bit-piece player on a vast and brilliant stage gasping for truth.  Everything else is a gift or an opportunity.  To be sure, The Epic was never, ever about me.  It was about its principal role:  Jesus Christ.  He came to give life to the lifeless, and He shall return again to set all things right.  Amen.

"For everything there is a season..."

turned leaves, clean slates, and a prologue savior

Jesus is everything. And anything devoid of Jesus is ultimately nothing. He is the plot of history, the centerpiece of humanity, the illustration of divinity. Jesus is our very beginning.

Much has been spoken, written and repeated about oaths and fresh starts. But for the Christian, our best day is going to begin with the last Word, God's Son. He is the Father's remedy for our daily failure. He is to be our first thought and the final say.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it . . . He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." (John 1:1-5, 10-14, ESV)

I do not love God because I somehow have it in my self to love Him. I wish I did, but I really, painfully don't. I was raised as a young child to believe in the power and salvation of His Son, but like so many others I strayed far from that conviction, breathing in and living out a pattern of pretend. For an entire decade I led a stubborn, careless existence apart from the very redemption which had saved me from myself in the beginning.

There is that word again: beginning.

Everything goes back to the beginning, and here I am going back to Jesus, who is the paradigm of turned leaves and cleaned slates. I really do want to make Him the basis for every new move I make. So this must be my prayer for the new year.

We hear a lot about resolutions with each passing year, and 2010 was no different. Whether it is moderating our addictions, improving our health, bettering our relationships, or increasing our impact upon the world around us, we all feel compelled to make vows to be more "valuable" in the ensuing year.

But God has already affirmed our value; that while we were at our very worst, He still thought to save us. And indeed, regardless of our own small, human resolutions for good, He has already begun a very good work in us, and it is He who will eventually complete it through us (Phil 1:6).

If we are to promise anything, perhaps we should pledge every exerted effort to pursuing God as He first pursued us. When we accepted Christ, we undoubtedly made an earnest vow to follow Him to the ends of the earth. Whether it was spoken aloud or not, our heart pledged itself to Him in faith and thankfulness.

"When a man makes a vow to the LORD or takes an oath to obligate himself by a pledge, he must not break his word but must do everything he said." (Num 30:2, NIV)

Just think of how God is our template for making promises! When the Father makes a vow to be with His children, He means it for now and eternity. God doesn't break his end of any deal.

Last year I recommitted myself to my wife, writing out vows of faithfulness and love to her. Oh, that we would recommit the same to God in our marriage to Him! There is no greater human commitment than one eagerly bound to a perfect, Holy God and driven – even sustained – by a perfect, Holy Spirit!

If our story is really God's story, than our epilogue and prologue must be Jesus Christ.

My purpose for this blog is to exalt the Author of the story. If I fail in that aim, than really this is just a waste of internet space and your time. A puritan named Samuel Rutherford stated something that has become my motto as a writer. He said, "Put your hand to the pen, and let the cross of your Lord Jesus have your submissive and resolute Amen."

May we vow the same not only for the pen, but for our eyes, our mouths, our hearts, and our plans for this year.

Thank you Father God for your idea of the perfect beginning, Jesus Christ.  He is the beginning and ending of everything You meant when you said you loved us.  Sometimes we forget that He was Your introductory act and the Agent of our continuing faith, and we ask that You remind us of that always.  Let His name be the precious phrase upon our lips and His person the desire of our hearts now.  In His name we end this prayer and begin the moment, Amen.