A Year With God, Day 60 of 366

So, today is day 60 of my bogging experience.  This ought to have some kind of dramatic ceremony with hats and those little blow-out party things that make the tweet noise.

But I have nothing like that.  I didn't even really have an idea for tonight's blog.  So I'll wing it, and worry about being profound and intelligent another day.

Life it about choices, and promises and disappointments.

Tonight I was invited to dinner with my mother and sister.  I was excited to go, since I haven't seen them in a while, and my husband was working, so I could go and just spend time without worrying if he was having a good time.  But I promised to visit him when he took his lunch.

Well, the restaurant was busy, and it took a long time to seat us, and the next thing I knew, it was time to leave to meet my husband.  And while we'd had our soup and salad, the entree had not arrived yet.  I knew we were running late, but I thought I'd have time to get the entree (fried fish and shrimp and clam strips) put in a to-go box.  But it didn't happen, so I left without it. 

I hurred to meet my husband and enjoyed spending his lunch break with him.  I felt that I made the right decision, but I found myself bitterly disappointed that I didn't get to eat my fish.  It seems like such a petty thing, but I had so looked forward to that meal . . .

And now I think about Jesus praying before he was arrested and nailed to the cross.  He prayed asking God to find another way to save mankind from sin.

And somehow, I think he might have felt rather like I did about the fish dinner, odd as that might sound.  He knew what he had to do was important, but he really didn't want to go through with it.

But in the end, Jesus gracefully acceded to God's plan.  "Not my will, but yours be done."

Which is a great deal better than my pouting over my missed dinner.  So Jesus is definitely the better person.

Is it wrong to compare the two?  Maybe, because there really is no comparison.  Nothing in human experience will ever come close to what Jesus went through.

But somehow, that feeling of really wanting something I couldn't have just clicked in my brain.  If I could multiply that feeling time ten thousand, maybe that would be close to what Jesus felt. 

And if I'd called my husband to say I couldn't make lunch, I could have had my dinner.  Just as Jesus could have said, "I changed my mind, Father!" and gotten out of death on the cross.

As difficult as it was to walk out of the restaurant, I'm glad I got to spend those thirty minutes with my husband.  And I pray that Jesus feels the same about dying to gain me forgiveness for my sins.

A Year With God, Day 59 of 366

Luke 12:18-19

Then Jesus asked, "What is the kingdom of God like?  What shall I compare it to?  It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden.  It grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air pirched in its branches."

I have never seen the plant that a mustard seed comes from.  But I have seen mustard seeds, and they are very small.  God can take that tiny seed and grow it into a tree large enough for birds to grow on.  And that is what the kingdom of God is like.

From something small grows something huge.  From one man, and one woman came the human race, and from one man, Jesus, came the Christian faith.

I must trust in God to take my small efforts and grow them into something large and living and prosperous, like a tree where birds can perch.

A Year With God, Day 58 of 366

In 2 Samuel, Chapter one, the Bible describes David's reaction to King Saul's death.

The two of them had a pretty rocky relationship.  They started off as friends, but eventually became enemies.  Saul hunted David and tried to kill him numerous times.

Yet in spite of this, David still 'mounred and wept and fasted till evening for Saul and his son Jonathan' (2 Samuel1:12).

Anyone might mourn for a loved one or a friend.  It takes a bigger person to mourn an enemy.  But even though Saul was jealous of David and feared and hated him, David never came to hate Saul.  In the end, he wasn't just mourning the death of Saul, but the loss of what Saul could have been--a great friend, a better king, and a man of God's choosing.

I hope that I would mourn the loss of everyone who treated me poorly with as much sincerity as David did.

A Year With God, Day 57 of 366

I have not posted a blog in two days.   I slipped up, and I will not try to make up those missing days.  Instead, I offer the insights I've found in myself.

I think I have lost sight of myself recently.  I feel like I’ve been worn down to the point where there’s almost nothing left.  Last night I would have said ‘There is nothing left,’ but somehow today, I know I’m still there.

There is a scene in ‘Memory’ by Lois McMaster Bujold (Yes, I quote her a lot—there’s a reason she’s my favorite author), where the main character is torn between the life he was born with, and the cover identity he’d created in the course of his work as a covert operative.  The scene goes something like this (quoting from Memory—ha,ha—so this isn’t exact):

He hears a voice in his head, and says, ‘Who are you?’.

The voice responds, ‘Who are you that asks?’

And suddenly he realizes that the spying and the stress and the politics and the adventure and confusion in his life are not what defines him.  Underneath all of that, he is still himself.  And from that realization, he can choose who he wants to be.

So, I am at that point today.  I have a little nugget of me-ness that I have found.  Now I have to define what I want to be.  And then work on getting that out of the little kernel in my soul and out to my skin.

I want to be:  Confident.  I’m trying to think of other things to make this a list, but that is all I can come up with right now.  That’s the biggest thing, I suppose.  To be me, and not apologize for it.

I want to be:  Confident, independent, dramatic—just a bit, creative, loving, able to make wise decisions.  I want the focus to work on my goals, to write my stories without getting distracted.  I want the self-confidence to finish what I start, and believe in what I’m writing, that I am good at it, and that others will read and enjoy what I write. 

I want to believe that what I write will touch someone’s heart and make a difference to them.  Even touching one person, one time, with one word would be enough, I think.  

I don’t relate much to Peter.  He seems impulsive, and I am rarely impulsive these days.  But I have to wonder how he felt after denying he knew Jesus.  I wonder he felt anything like I’ve been feeling.  Like if I could, I would shrink myself down to the size of a grain of sand, so I could lie on a beach with a million other grains of sand, and never be noticed.  So that the ocean could wear me down to nothing, and all my mistakes would vanish forever.

But Peter must have realized that it doesn’t matter.  God knows every hair on my head, and every leaf on every tree, and every grain of sand on every seashore.  There is no way to hide from God.

I fear that I will not be forgiven for my mistakes.  But, even more I fear being forgiven, as illogical as that might sound.  Because if I am forgiven—and I know God will forgive me—then somehow the expectations seem higher, and the potential for letting Him down, even greater.

And so I pray that God will forgive me, and that He will show me the way forward.

A Year With God, Day 54 of 366

Tonight, I flipped my Bible open to Revelation, and looked at a few verses.  And then I realized I don't feel confident enough to try to interpret that book.  The prophecies are beyond what I can understand on my own.

At first I felt inadequate, but then I realized that it's okay not to understand everything.  No one person can understand the mind of God.  Niether can any one person understand the entire Bible.

When I have more time, perhaps I will research the book of Revelation, so I can learn some understanding of what it all means.

A Year With God, Day 53 of 366

Ezekiel 1:1

In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month on the fifth day, while I was among the exiles by the Kebar River, the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God.

What struck me when looking at this verse is that Ezekiel knew exactly when and where he saw the visions of God.  It was a clear thing, undeniable.  It wasn't vague, he didn't 'guesstimate' he knew to the day when it happened.

I wonder what it's like to have a vision that intense--so unforgettable.  It couldn't have been a comfortable thing.  I imagine a lot of people thought Ezekiel was weird, to say the least.

My encounters with God's word have been much more subtle.  I almost said I wished I could have a vision as intense as what Ezekiel experienced, but I'm not sure I'd really be comfortable with it.  I suppose I am too wishy-washy to handle it.

But still, I wonder what it felt like, to be the bearer of God's message to the people.  It must have been exhilerating, but I think it would be terrifying as well.

Nothing makes me feel more inadequate than being handed a task by someone who has complete faith in my ability to do more than I can imagine doing.

A Year With God, Day 52 of 366

I heard someone say that it will always be sunny in heaven.

I hope that's not true.  I hope it rains sometimes.  I like rain. Gentle rain that soaks into the ground and makes grass and trees and flowers grow.

Or a fierce storm with thunder and lightning and strong winds, which makes me appreciate being inside and warm and dry.

Or snow that piles upon the ground, so I can make snow angels or snowmen or have a snowball fight, and then when I amcold and my nose is turning red, I can come inside for hot cocoa, and warm myself by the fire.

I hope that in heaven there will be all types of weather, and that everyone can appreciate them.  Because God gave us all kinds of weather, and there is beauty in each type.