Expectations and opportunities everywhere. And failure right here. I've been around long enough to know what I should do as situations arise. I should be able to say the right words, care the right way. Deep down the understanding is there. But when it's time for rising to the challenge, I don't know why, but I don't. Actually, I can't even say challenge, but only what can be reasonably expected. I'm deeply aware that falling short can be called sin. And although it may not have been deliberate, my failure to do what I should is just that. Now I'm stuck. Mired in the mess of my own making, again. Yes, again.
I have the privilege of being able to affect many lives for good. However, the real impact has been negligible. Those around me forge ahead in spite of me, regardless of what I do. I'm glad, because that's a testimony to God's grace in their lives. Yet sad, because I wasn't there for them even though I was there with them.
Oh, there are excuses: way too busy! too many demands! too tired! too uncared for to care for others! done my best! But excuses just don't cut it, because people are hurt and trust has been eroded just a little bit more. There is no sense that God loves me any less. I know his forgiveness is sure. But for those I've failed, saying sorry is not enough. They have to re-understand me, re-build their expectations, swallow their pain. I have to learn, persist in doing the right thing even though this time it's too late, and wait. It does hurt.
This is where I live, for now.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Bridge
A familiar gospel presentation has a chasm (two opposing cliffs) with a human figure on one side and God on the other side. The chasm is sin, every person's problem, impossible on one's own to leap across. As the presentation progresses, the chasm is spanned by a bridge drawn in the shape of a cross. This represents Jesus Christ and his death on the cross. In Christ, God himself provides the means to get across the chasm of sin and reach him.
The cross as bridge...
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. Yes, it is declared always: the cross is the symbol of love, a demonstration of the lengths to which God is willing to go to prove his love. It is the picture of Jesus nailed hand and foot to the crossbeams to pay for my sin. But the cross is also a bridge. It is what closes the gap between earth and heaven. And one must go over the bridge in order to get to the other side.
The cross is not merely a symbol. It is not simply Jesus identifying with our suffering, or sympathizing with our plight. Getting sick along with my child when he brings home a cold from school doesn't ameliorate his situation. Giving him the necessary care, comfort and medicine does. The cross is strong medicine. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it traverses the chasm of sin. This is repentance - agreeing with God that I am a sinner. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it brings me to God. This is faith - accepting that Christ is, in fact, my Saviour from sin, and consequently, Lord of life. The distance impossible for me to close is spanned by Christ. He leads me to God.
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. I will meditate, sing, and worship because it is a symbol of love. It is a symbol that Christ is here with me and for me. But it is much more than just a symbol. It is a bridge. Cross it.
The cross as bridge...
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. Yes, it is declared always: the cross is the symbol of love, a demonstration of the lengths to which God is willing to go to prove his love. It is the picture of Jesus nailed hand and foot to the crossbeams to pay for my sin. But the cross is also a bridge. It is what closes the gap between earth and heaven. And one must go over the bridge in order to get to the other side.
The cross is not merely a symbol. It is not simply Jesus identifying with our suffering, or sympathizing with our plight. Getting sick along with my child when he brings home a cold from school doesn't ameliorate his situation. Giving him the necessary care, comfort and medicine does. The cross is strong medicine. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it traverses the chasm of sin. This is repentance - agreeing with God that I am a sinner. It is a bridge that must be crossed because it brings me to God. This is faith - accepting that Christ is, in fact, my Saviour from sin, and consequently, Lord of life. The distance impossible for me to close is spanned by Christ. He leads me to God.
Looking forward to Good Friday, the cross is prominent in my mind. I will meditate, sing, and worship because it is a symbol of love. It is a symbol that Christ is here with me and for me. But it is much more than just a symbol. It is a bridge. Cross it.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Cling
Picking up some dead branches in my yard. Branches fallen off the trees, and as such, lifeless, leafless, fruitless.
And I wonder why my life flounders. It's not that I'm neglecting stuff. Most would consider me diligent and faithful at home, at church, at work, and in the community. Nor am I uncaring or unloving - at least no one has said so to my face. Nevertheless, for all the good things I'm doing and thinking, it is still quite easy to compare myself to a lifeless, leafless, fruitless branch fallen off the tree. The fruitful life is supposed to be characterized by love, joy, sacrifice for others, friendship with God. I am plagued by the sterility of my life. I am bothered by my fruitlessness.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit." I've heard it before, yet it's only beginning to sink in. All must be centred on a vital relationship with Christ. I need to remain, abide, stay, hang on to, cling to him.
Makes sense. He is the source of life. All he really wants is for me to keep his commands by faithfully clinging to the vine. Trying to be the right person and trying to do the right things are never the root of devotion. They must grow as the fruit of a life that remains in the vine.
Lord, help me to faithfully cling to the vine.
And I wonder why my life flounders. It's not that I'm neglecting stuff. Most would consider me diligent and faithful at home, at church, at work, and in the community. Nor am I uncaring or unloving - at least no one has said so to my face. Nevertheless, for all the good things I'm doing and thinking, it is still quite easy to compare myself to a lifeless, leafless, fruitless branch fallen off the tree. The fruitful life is supposed to be characterized by love, joy, sacrifice for others, friendship with God. I am plagued by the sterility of my life. I am bothered by my fruitlessness.
"I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit." I've heard it before, yet it's only beginning to sink in. All must be centred on a vital relationship with Christ. I need to remain, abide, stay, hang on to, cling to him.
Makes sense. He is the source of life. All he really wants is for me to keep his commands by faithfully clinging to the vine. Trying to be the right person and trying to do the right things are never the root of devotion. They must grow as the fruit of a life that remains in the vine.
Lord, help me to faithfully cling to the vine.
