Tag: faith

Before the Throne

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Hello friends! This glorious Friday evening, let me pen just a few words on my latest read. Then laptop shall be closed and looked at no more and it shall be time for reading and communion and joy as I rest this night.

68. Why Christianity Makes Sense by Gavin Ortlund. A fantastic book. I believe I’ve heard this book presented as analogous to Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. Perhaps not quite aiming at those heights, but identical in purpose. Presenting Christianity to a skeptical world and giving reasons that may cause one to tilt the head and consider. Why not Christ? Why not Christianity? Is it true? Is it good? I confess as I write these few words that I’m a bit biased coming into this. I greatly appreciate Ortlund’s ministry (both written and on the screen!) and I had no doubts I would be encouraged by this read. And so it turned out to be. I am not quite sure I’m the target audience, as I have no need of persuasion in regards to the claims of Christianity, but nonetheless this book warmed my soul.

I too have an ache in my heart, a longing for that far country. Ortlund identifies this ache itself as a testimony to the truth that this material world is not all there is. I won’t dare summarize this entire book as I fear it would be too unwieldy and not do the book justice, but I will say I heartily enjoyed it all. The middle section of this book – on Jesus Christ and the beauty intertwined with the historical reality that is God made man – was by far my favourite part. Just reading about Jesus and why it is indeed so reasonable to consider him the very answer the universe strains to grasp was indeed rich food for my weary soul. I am grateful for this book. Again, I feel this book is written to people that may be seeking – and perhaps it will be of use for those who cry as they wonder what is beyond the veil. I hope and pray that this book is one that is as impactful to this generation as Mere Christianity was to its own. I have considered Jesus and found him to be that for which my soul longs. I hear the gulls call and look out across the waters and my heart skips a beat as I see the first glimmering star near the horizon. There is beauty that pricks my heart near to bursting and I sigh for wonder that I have found my answer in Jesus. Maybe you will consider him too.

Promise Land

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Good morning, friends. A few devotional thoughts this morning as I read. Soon shall be time for church, but thought since my heart was encouraged as I read this morning, thought I may as well share! Reading through Genesis currently and it’s one of those books that at times can be easy to skim through. All the well-worn stories, all the narratives you’ve been through countless times before. I’m attempting to slow down a bit and truly ponder what I’m reading. Today, Abram entered the picture. God tells him to go forth from the city where his family has settled and so he does indeed go forth. Abram and his family have some adventures and we are given almost immediate proof that he does not have perfect faith and is really not a perfect man. Yet, what do we see Abram doing in Genesis 12-13? We see a pattern of him building altars and calling upon the name of the Lord. Even though Abram is but a fallen man, imperfect in so many ways, he does consistently seek to honor his God and cry out to Him. Do we do such? Do I do such? Is it a pattern in my life that I take time and effort to show my reverence and awe for my God? Do I consistently call upon the name of the Lord, crying out to him all the day long? Oh that I long that I could say this is always so. I am also an imperfect man, so feeble and frail and negligent of the duties I ought be performing day and night. Yet I know that my salvation cannot be achieved by anything I can do. No, I can never be good enough to warrant divine favor. It is an impossibility that I can be called God’s friend, signed and sealed the moment man turned away from God in the garden.

Yet. But God. Before time and throughout time and in the fullness of time, God had and has smiled upon me and has had great compassion upon my soul, reaching out his hand to pull me up and show me the way that I might be called a friend of God. So just as Abram built altars and called upon the name of the Lord, so might I turn to my God in faith and hope and new-kindled love, knowing that there is a God with whom there is forgiveness of sins. I fear Him and love Him, believing in Him now though I have not seen Him. And in this hope I have of one day being with Him, I have blazing in my soul joy inexpressible and full of glory I call upon the name of the Lord in praise that He has called me first. Oh what joy it is to know that I am a forgiven son. I think on the name of Jesus, God descended to this earth to die for me and then rise in blazing glory as proof that death truly has been conquered and salvation has been won. Oh that we might now turn back to God as we in this garden kneel to hug his feet in newfound love! Let me go through this day now resolved to build an altar to my God in proclamation of what He has done for me. Let me never cease from praying to my Father in heaven. Let me never cease from walking upon this earth as one who has been called to follow Christ. Let me never cease from deliberately and sacrificially loving those around me who all too are made in the image of God Most High. I am weak and broken sure. Yet inside me a divine Spirit lives and unites me to power unimaginable. I am not alone.

Reverberations

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That is why I think this Grand Miracle is the missing chapter in this novel, the chapter on which the whole plot turns; that is why I believe that God really has dived down into the bottom of creation, and has come up bringing the whole redeemed nature on His shoulder. The miracles that have already happened are, of course, as Scripture so often says, the first fruits of that cosmic summer which is presently coming on. Christ has risen, and so we shall rise. St Peter for a few seconds walked on the water; and the day will come when there will be a re-made universe, infinitely obedient to the will of glorified and obedient men, when we can do all things, when we shall be those gods that we are described as being in Scripture. To be sure, it feels wintry enough still: but often in the very early spring it feels like that. Two thousand years are only a day or two by this scale. A man really ought to say, “The Resurrection happened two thousand years ago” in the same spirit in which he says, “I saw a crocus yesterday.” Because we know what is coming behind the crocus. The spring comes slowly down this way; but the great thing is that the corner has been turned. There is, of course, this difference, that in the natural spring the crocus cannot choose whether it will respond or not. We can. We have the power either of withstanding the spring, and sinking back into the cosmic winter, or of going on into those “high mid-summer pomps” in which our Leader, the Son of man, already dwells, and to which He is calling us. It remains with us to follow or not, to die in this winter, or to go on into that spring and that summer.

-C.S. Lewis, The Grand Miracle (God in the Dock, page 85)

Shoreside Wanderings

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Hello friends – happy Sunday! I write a few words now as the Redskins/Eagles game plays in the background. Yes, football is back! It’s probably for the better that I not put my hope in football or certain teams but I do enjoy watching it now and again. That aside, enjoying a sweet and relaxing Sunday afternoon. A good time at church was had as Dani and I worshipped with our dear brothers and sisters – all glory be to our God as we consider the glorious gospel that is a man once dead now alive forevermore – Jesus Christ the salvation of our souls! After a lunch of hearty sandwiches back at home, naptime was on the menu, as is proper on a Sunday. Now? A grocery store adventure awaits. Dani and I shall run (er, drive) to HEB and pick up some of the needed items for tonight’s dinner. It’s our “Sunday classic” – sushi for Dani, frozen pizza for me! I think I’ll also make a tomato salad or some such, just for good measure.

What else shall I say? Well, I’m wandering towards it but fear I do not have words to do it justice. So I shall just come out and say it – happy 40th anniversary to Mom and Dad!!! It’s been forty years since they were married – truly? Yes, truly. On September 13th, 1986, Dad & Mom joined hands and pledged their lives to each other and now some forty years later…they press on in love for one another still. Oh the greatness of God’s love and the wondrous bounties that He has poured out upon my parents – what a wonder it is to see how God has worked in these lives through the decades!! I could of course speak on them and their marriage at length as I have been alive for the vast majority of those forty years, but I shall not make this entry a book. Instead, I simply wish to say how encouraged I am as I have witnessed their marriage and have seen how they have steadfastly loved each other through the storms and trials of life and have been faithful to one another as they seek to glorify God as they work out God’s purpose for their lives. I’m so grateful that I have been blessed enough to be called their son. Praise God from whom all blessings flow!!!

Over the Shoulder

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Hello friends! It’s throwback time – I’m currently writing from my old Starbucks from years of yore. A bit of a pilgrimage this morning…these past few weeks I’ve been going through some of my old journal entries and currently in 2017-era. And apparently at that time, I frequented this Starbucks all the time! So this morning, with Dani off on her own adventure, I thought why not? Why shouldn’t I visit my old Starbucks and enjoy some good writing time just like I used to so many times before? So here I am, sitting and sipping my black coffee and looking around me as I do so. It’s odd indeed, being here some nine years later and…well yes, it’s Starbucks so it hasn’t changed that much. Yet the sad thing is all the people I used to know are gone! No more barista friends, alas. But I sit here and smile as I think of friends of old and the many good conversations that were had. Ah how thankful I am for God blessing me so throughout the years. I am beyond blessed – of that there can be no doubt.

Also I am amused reading all my entries from back in the day…I did a much better job of chronicling my life – that is for certain! Back then I actually wrote about what I did and where I went and who I hung out with. Nowadays? Well…I suppose my entries have gradually become more opaque – likely a result of growing older and moving away from the public sharing of the facebook era. I do now and again write a newsy post and I’m actually working on being better about that – sharing my life and praising God for what he is doing in it. But the majority of my posts these days tend to be book reviews or quotes from books or random creative flow. My creative output – whether it be poetry or prose – is precious to me and I love it so and I’m so thankful for that gift…yet I do realise it’s not as accessible to others. I know what I’m saying and what lies on my heart! Yet others don’t quite have the same understanding of my heart and so my writing is at a bit of a remove. I’m ok with that, I think. What does it mean that my writing of late is less transparent? I suppose it simply shows that while I still love to write – ah so much word vomit! – I won’t always explain myself clearly in such. That has always been the case to some degree. Even in the early days of my journal career, poems were dropped from the sky without a guide in sight. Now I suppose it’s just that the majority of my writing tends to be the random creative output. Also I have less time now than I once did. Hence…when I do get a chance to write, a few creative lines strain to escape and I gratefully take the opportunity to release them into the wild. It is good for my soul.

All that being said? I have been far too random this morning and not entirely sure what the point of all the above is! Still, I shall let it stand. I’m so grateful for this morning. And thankful that God has given me both the ability and the desire to write. The quality may be questionable at times, yet still I do love the process. Those of you who read what I write, thanks for putting up with me. That last came with a half-smile and a raise of the eyebrow. Remind me to give you a hug next time I see you.

The Temporal in Light of the Eternal

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Wherefore, in all these things, be persuaded sometimes to have an eye to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. Behold how he is set before us in the gospel, poor, despised, reproached, persecuted, nailed to the cross, and all by this world. Whatever be your designs and aims, let his cross continually interpose between your affections and this world. If you are believers, your hopes are within a few days to be with him forevermore.

Unto him you must give an account of yourselves, and what you have done in this world. Will it be acceptable with him to declare what you have saved of this world, what you have gained, what you have preserved and embraced yourselves in, and what you have left behind you? Was this any part of his employment and business in this world? Hath he left us an example for any such course? Wherefore, no man can set his affections on things here below who hath any regard unto the pattern of Christ, or is in any measure influenced with the power and efficacy of his cross. “My love is crucified,” said a holy martyr of old: he whom his soul loved was so, and in him his love unto all things here below.

Do you, therefore, find your affections ready to be engaged unto, or too much entangled with, the things of this world? Are your desires of increasing them, your hopes of keeping them, your fears of losing them, your love unto them and delight in them, operative in your minds, possessing your thoughts and influencing your conversations?

-turn aside a little, and by faith contemplate the life and death of the Son of God; a blessed glass will it be, where you may see what contemptible things they are which you perplex yourselves about. Oh, that any of us should love or esteem the things of this world, the power, riches, goods, or reputation of it, who have had a spiritual view of them in the cross of Christ!


-John Owen, Vol 7, page 399

Haunted Moors

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Hello friends! Writing a few words this Sunday evening. About to perhaps attempt to write something flowery and ridiculous and ethereal and grey in its beauty and majestic wonder. Shall I succeed? Who knows, who knows. While I write now, listening to an old playlist from a few years back – “windswept queens of the haunted moors”. One of my favourites, it is darkly beautiful even though its lyrics are at times agonizing in their pain. Yet, at times the melancholy calls to me and this playlist, while not for the faint of heart, still sings. If you want to listen…well, I’ll link it here. Only if you wish.

Leaving aside the dangerous musical madness of my past, what now stirs my heart? I feel as if the days and weeks have been busy of late and my heart is weary. Yet what does that signal but that I am still trudging on? I am grateful to my God for holding my hand as I walk this path. And I’m grateful oh so grateful that I am not alone. I wish I had more time. I wish at times the things of this world didn’t take so much time and that I had more time to write and dream and wonder. Ah my thoughts are too messy for this mundane of a post. I will attempt to channel into something creative. If I give up, will just move on to making dinner! Leftover meatloaf is the plan. Also going to fry up some broccoli and make some mashed potatoes. Will be a good Sunday dinner, so says I. Now, I’m off, to write. I hope. I sigh and roll my eyes as I think on the likelihood that little of the beautiful shall proceed forth from my pen. But sometimes a leap is necessary. Farewell, my friends.

All The Strings

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A lovely morning thus far. About to drive off to church, but grateful for a few minutes now to meditate and muse on what most brings me hope and joy. This morning woke up and went for a walk, enjoying(??) the humidity and heat that is standard fare for August here. Still yet, it was a beautiful time of walking and thinking and watching all the people on their early morning runs and dog-walks. Got to chat with Dad for a few minutes on the return leg and then back I arrived at home, sweaty and pleasantly weary. Now I’m all showered up and have had a lovely few minutes reading as a new candle burns and a symphony plays on the TV. Within twenty minutes or so, shall step out the door and once more feel August’s warm affections as we leave for church. But now? Why am I just spinning my wheels talking about the mundanities of life? Well firstly because even the mundane every day tasks of life can be beautiful, can they not? I’m grateful for what my God has given me, even little things like walks and showers. Secondly? Because I do want to talk about deeper things but sometimes I feel I must approach them circumspectly as I’m at times uneasy of my skill to properly address that which matters most.

So now as the minutes flee and I soon will run out of time, I suppose I won’t say much more about what burns in my heart, except to say that I enjoyed some precious minutes reading in John today, some of my favourite verses. Reading about the trial and death of Jesus and then the response of some of his followers. Peter initially quavered and crumbled and denied his teacher. Others stood by him to the end even as they wept. Still others who had hidden their allegiance came out after his death to preserve and memorialize his body and his name. And then on that glorious day whose memory still reverberates in the heavens and the earth? Peter returned to his Lord and marveled at the fact that something had happened that he didn’t quite understand. John approached more cautiously but still yet he was there. And Mary? Oh Mary she was there at the beginning and at the end, as the men rushed around and in their haste rushed off again while she stayed behind at that garden tomb and wept and thought and I’m sure prayed. And then she saw something miraculous – angelic beings in all their brightness and she found herself overcome and in her sorrow and her wonder she heard a voice that said her name. And what response did she have? What response should any of have in such a circumstance? She rushed to Jesus and clung to Him, crying as she held on tight. Oh how I wish I could cling to the feet of Jesus and hear him speak to me as he spoke to Mary that day. Some day, some day soon. Even though I have not seen him, I believe in Him and joy unspeakable fills my heart and I glory in the fact that someday my eyes shall see his face.

Grace

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Hello friends! A few quick words this Thursday morning before I dash off to the land of work. It’s not quite 6am though, so I do have a few minutes and I’m grateful for the time to sit and read and meditate as I sip on my coffee here.

What have I been thinking about? The mind whirls with all that modern life seemingly demands. The earth groans and weeps, the daily news is full of horror and it seems as if civilization itself is on the brink. What are we to do? Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die. Let us satisfy ourselves with whatever we can find about us. Not much hope in the morrow, so let’s enjoy today. Either we drown ourselves in the sorrows and anxieties of this present life or we drown ourselves with the distractions that take us far from it. Either option works, depending on your predilection and temperament. Yet are those really the only two options? Not if we consider our underlying assumptions and correct the framework from which we see life itself. If this world is all there is and there is no life beyond the veil and no Creator to consider, perhaps it matters not what we do now. Make a choice and stick to it. Do your thing. Eat, love, laugh. You only live once. You know the drill. Yet.

As you’ve noticed, I’ve tilted the argument one way, prepared to springboard into what I do believe is true. What if there is a beyond? What if there is a quivering reality waiting beyond the fog of this present life? I’m not saying that this present life is any less real or that we should go seclude ourselves in preparation for a life to come. May it never be – this life is real and there are many wonderful things in it, things that are good and proper to enjoy. Yet. If we have a future hope, perhaps consider such? If we are not alone after all, if there is a God who made all things and desires communion with us, should we so quickly and easily turn our backs on that which we do not fully understand?

This God I believe in is one in whom I’ve put my trust and one who I believe is fully and utterly real in a way that we do not and perhaps never can truly understand. Yet I believe this same God came down to this earth as a man and condescended such so that we might know him truly. This man? Jesus Christ. Yes, of course I’ve been leading to this point the entire time. Jesus Christ is my hope and joy, my song and my salvation, the only way to God for He is God and is in Himself the fulfillment of all things. Now creation’s groans turn to song as the stars themselves shout for joy for the One who came to begin the process of renewal and reformation.

I turn to Jesus and fill my mind with thoughts of Him. I dwell on the truths of the historical reality of His coming to this earth and dying that I might live. I think on my sufferings and then I turn my thoughts and think on His. Jesus is beautiful to Me. I consider Jesus and the fact that He in Himself is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of the nature of God and upholds all things by the power of God and even so He has made purification for my sins so that I might be made right for God. I consider Jesus and my heart aches to be near Him. I think on my life now and count it loss and turn and follow Jesus.

I want to be where Jesus is. I serve and follow Jesus and look for the day when I gaze upon His face in glory. Jesus Christ is my hope and joy. What do I have in this life that compares? May all the little joys and pleasures of this world remind me of the joy that one day shall be mine as I sit and feast in the presence of Christ. May all the little pains and sufferings of this life remind me of the love that one day shall be mine as I sit at the feet of Jesus and cling to Him forever.

fifth row baptists

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Hello friends! A sleepy Sunday post is in order, methinks. And as matter of fact, I think this post shall be mostly just me rambling about books. Because of aforesaid mentioned sleepiness, I don’t think this shall be a long post. But as always, we shall see! Be well, one and all.

53. Thank You, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse. Absolutely fantastic. I have heard of Wodehouse and the Jeeves stories before, of course. I knew they were a part of the British literary canon that I was remiss in reading and that I would need to remedy such at some point. Thankfully, due to a fortuitous encounter in a remarkably well-stocked book section at a Goodwill, I decided it was time to read my first Wodehouse and this was it. I was not disappointed. The humour was top notch. Of course humour is subjective and I’m sure some would bounce off Wodehouse. For me though? Perfection. I wish I had half the wit and verve of Wodehouse – I’d read line after line of writing that simply crackled with absurd hilarity and wonder how on earth he managed it. If you like absurd off-the-wall ridiculousness married with near-perfect prose, I think you’d enjoy this. I know I did.

54. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul – A book that grabs you by the collar and simply won’t let go. I’ve read this once, many years before, and I recall how much this one gripped and shook me. Reading it again now, I marveled anew at the holiness, grandeur and glory of God. I am grateful for this book of Sproul’s, one that does not apologize for the God of the Bible, the God who is proclaimed in all its pages and of whom creation shouts in chorus. Sproul is unapologetic in ascribing a place to God that is far separate from the place reserved for the rest of creation. This book feels at times as if it was written in a time so different from our own, a time when the other-ness of God was not as alien a concept as it seems to be in this age in which we now live. Of course this book wasn’t written that long ago – 1985 – still yet it seems as if the God Sproul preaches would be anathema to the majority of so-called Christian teachers in this day and age.

We at times seem to spend all our time crafting a God that fits our idea of goodness, justice and love – a God that we feel comfortable with and whose ideals mirror our own. This is idolatry, pure and simple, and Sproul calls that out. He doesn’t quite wade into all the depths of ontology and epistemology, yet Sproul does ask that we cease from demanding that God can only be God if he fits our pre-conceived notions of what God ought to be. How often have we heard or uttered the phrase – “I could never worship a God who…” Instead of screaming our rights into the void, perhaps we ought ask the question – Is God real? And if so, who is He? And what is my response? This is spadework and not always comfortable. And I’m not saying Sproul is hand-holding us through this journey. Instead, Sproul simply and faithfully discusses the God of the Bible, the God as revealed in both specific and general revelation, and explains who this God is and why he is worthy of our worship.

At the end of the day, the way we live our life is governed by who we see God to be and who we see ourselves to be. And Sproul clearly and concisely draws back the curtain and shows us the tiniest of glimpses of the reality of the God who made all things. Sproul is just a man and all too fallible and so of course this book is not perfect. Yet it is one that drove me to my knees as I consider what it is that I live and breathe in a world made by a God so utterly holy that to gaze upon Him would utterly undo me. Who am I, a jar of clay and oh so foul and depraved? And yet also am I not one crafted in the image of this God I long to know? There’s a mystery there – how can I be made right and gain communion with this God who seems so far from me? Has God spoken to us and given us a way to be right with Him? The name that is above every name is spoken by my heart and I tremble. I raise my hands and drop any claims I have and bow the knee to the One who made all things. This book is one that I need to read again and again. God is God and I am not. Remember this. Remember this.

55. What Does It Mean to Fear the Lord? by Michael Reeves. A wonderful little pamphlet walking us through the concept of the “fear of the Lord”. This can be very confusing, to be sure. I’ve had conversations with people who refuse to believe that Christians should “fear the Lord”. And part of that is likely due to the inability of the English language to properly define this concept, this idea of trembling joy and awe and love that comes face to face with understanding who God is and what our proper response to Him is. This is a very little book, but Reeves does a masterful job of walking through what fear of God is, and what it isn’t. The fear of the Lord is not a cringing fear that drives us from God in our hatred of who he is. Instead, the proper fear of the Lord is a recognition of the nature of God and the proper response of humility and love that draws us closer to our God. I feel this is a ongoing thread in my reading of late but I shall state it again. God is God and I am not. Let us remember that, and as we understand ever more who God truly is, our fear of Him will be that fear which spurs on a delighted awe and love as we humbly bow before our Creator. A great little read, heartily recommended.

56. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. This book frustrated me at times. There are some beautiful little moments and I greatly admired the themes of the author and what he attempted to point towards. It is rare to find a modern book which preaches such themes of Christian love and humility and it made me glad to see such praised in this book. There is also such a wonderful focus on the worth of every person and the idea that all of us have a story that is worth knowing. I was under the impression this was a secular book and was pleasantly surprised discovering the Christian themes that lay at this book’s core, even identifying Theo as a little Christ-figure and one who attempts to point us to that light, that fountain, that Jesus that is the only source of life and truth. Yet. Apart from all that, this book was a hard read at times. I admire the author’s aims, but the book wasn’t always an easy read, at times overly twee, at times overly artificial and manufactured. This felt like a book with too many cardboard cutouts, not enough real people. I often found myself struggling to make myself read a few more chapters. And the major revelation at the end of this book does some major damage to the book’s theme of selfless love for the other and make one wonder if the author truly realize that his attempts to tie up all loose ends into a tidy knot actually undercut some of the strongest themes of his tale. Ah well. I enjoyed parts of this book. Unfortunately the book wasn’t particularly well-written and I think at times the author spends too much time telling, not enough time showing. Maybe some people like the didactic hammering on the head. For me, not so much, even when I tend to agree with the author’s belief system. Main problem at the end of the day? The author’s skill was not quite up to snuff to tell the story he was attempting to tell. Still though, I admire the attempt.