Just when you think you've got it...

I'm trying to think of an image to describe my spiritual life. The best I can come up with is a spiral: from outside the spiral (God's perspective), it's fairly easy to see where on the path I am, how far from one end, and how near to the other. From my perspective (inside the spiral), I only see layers moving slowly upward and the layers I've already put behind me. I seem to be constantly doubling back on myself, making very little progress, and even covering the same territory over and over.


I'm always surprised and disappointed to wake up one morning to discover a thin shell of callous over my heart. Coincidentally (or not so coincidentally and perhaps more divinely), I often sense this hardening and indifference on Sunday mornings as I'm hurrying to church. Even more divinely, my Father knows the fears and reactions of my heart - He knows what causes my retreat from His arms, and He waits for me. It's usually a Sunday like that when the teachings line up as either a gentle reminder or a kick in the seat of my pants. This week was so kind - there was no guilt or fear. Just a weary sense of, "I've seen this in myself before. I thought we'd gotten rid of it, Father. Here we go again."


If the spiral picture is accurate, we don't really ever get rid of or lose sight of those past things in our lives. And that may be a good thing - while that does not give us liberty to beat ourselves up over them, they do serve as memorials, or milestones. That's where I was - here I am now. We are never in both places.


Welcome to 2011. Apparently I'm going to ramble a lot this year. My apologies in advance. If you'd like to hear the same teaching, check out Frank Ramseur's New Years inspiration: Calvary Chapel Chattanooga.

Celebrate His death and rising.

"Therefore, my brethren, you also were made to die to the Law through the body of Christ, so that you might be joined to another, to Him who was raised from the dead, in order that we might bear fruit for God."


I hadn't read this passage in a long time. Romans is a rather intimidating book, but I've been working through it for the second time, hoping that my life experiences and openness to the Holy Spirit since the last reading will highlight new truths for me.


The bit above follows laws about marriage: A woman is only allowed to remarry if her husband has died. Any other circumstance is immoral. While that is interpreted a little differently these days (and is a sticky topic I'll sidestep right now), it's clearly a metaphor, too. Before we knew Christ, we were married to the Law. And it's not until the Law has died completely in us that we can "marry" our True Love. I think that happens instantaneously (the moment we accept Christ) and slowly (as we learn what it means to live under grace). We're mistake-prone and creatures of habit - a new life in Christ requires building new habits to override the old.


But that's where this one gets interesting: we cannot die to the Law on our own; we need the body and blood of Christ. And it is Him to whom we are married after we have been removed from the Law. And Christ is our perfect example: He Himself died to the Law, and raised Himself from the dead - abolishing the Law and establishing grace.


It's a mystery, really, and I know that I'll never fully understand until I stand face-to-face with my Father, Saviour, and Husband.

Grow up into Him in all things.

Spurgeon's morning devotion was on Ephesians 4:15: Grow up into Him in all things. While Spurgeon is rather wordy and grandiloquent in his exemplification of this verse, his point is solid: a life hidden in Christ should not look the same from year to year.
I love his suggestion: curl up in Jesus' arms, rest your head on His chest, and soak in His grace. Reminds me of one of my favorite Shane & Shane songs:


He's the only one strong enough to lean
My heaviness against, the weight of all my sin.
Falling on a rock, leaning on a fortress -
Oh the wall of God, Jesus, He won't move.

On God I rest my salvation.
My fortress shall not be shaken.
My mighty rock and my glorious -
I lay my head upon His chest. On God I rest.

Unveiling more layers: Psalm 103.

I love Psalm 103.  I always find myself back there when I'm confused or tired or frustrated, reading it again and again.  I've been sick for days with no real signs of improvement, and I had a few minutes to myself this morning, so I turned to 103 (out of weariness and frustration).  I love how my Father follows up on what I'm learning!


Vs. 9-10: "He will not always strive with us, nor will He keep His anger forever.  He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor rewarded us according to our iniquities."


Peace with God, abundant grace.  A reiteration of the things I learned Sunday.

But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be...

I'm struggling with grace this week - grace for myself (because I am such a mess, and Someone has shown me enormous grace), grace for those around me (because I am such a mess, and Someone has shown me enormous grace, and I am training my heart's response to also show that grace to others).


But we've been talking in our small group on Wednesday nights about love and what love looks like and where it comes from.  We've concluded (as, I think, my father so wisely pointed out several years ago) that if you act lovingly toward someone, eventually you will feel lovingly toward them.  It's not easy, and it's certainly not fun.  And the battle I have to fight against the bitter little voices in my head - I am only weary.


To finish the headline quote: "But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be, only that it lies across a river.  But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder."  I'm going to start re-reading the Chronicles of Narnia this week.  When we read them as children, they were a story.  But I'm realizing they are a story about Someone, and I want to taste Him.