"And it will come to the question how much fire you have in your belly."oliver wendell holmes
This brings to mind
many scriptures,
but one in particular
has begun a glorious
revolution in my mind.
A Kingdom That Cannon Be Shaken
"For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, 'If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.' Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, 'I tremble with fear.' But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jeruslem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first born who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speakes a better word than the blood of Abel.
"See that you do not refuse Him Who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they refused Him Who warned them on earth, much less will we escape if we reject Him who warns from heaven. At that time his voice shook the earth, but now He has promised, 'Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens.' This phrase, 'Yet once more,' indicates the removal of things that are shaken--that is, things that have been made--in order that the things that cannot be shaken may remain. Therefore, let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire." Hebrews 12:18-29
I currently live
in a kingdom
that is not darkness
and tempests
and terror.
I presently live
among the festal-gathered angels,
with the God Who consumes.
And I think that now is
the appropriate time
to revise my Credo.
it's been whispered in the wind,
it's been swirling in our heads,
persistent questions.
why do i blog?
why do i tell these people these things?
what is a blog for?
who says i have to write oncetwicethreetimes a week?
how much should i say?
have i said more than i should?
i doubt that i'm the only one.
so here are some thoughts from 1 Thessalonians 2.
1. "Just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts." (2:4) Fairly simple. I think we all know that these ramblings are not here to impress anybody. "Nor did we seek glory from people." (2:6a)
2. "We were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us." (2:7-8) I think what we're all struggling/experimenting with is the delicate balance between the building up as the mother does, and the sharing of our own selves.
I am NOT here purporting that all people must blog all things at all times. There are times (for me) when blogging is downright selfish, not in the best interests of the group. Those are the days when I just want to "dump" and feel better for having "dumped," and I take no thought for how this may affect others. (I am not banishing prayer requests for personal struggles, but what is my motivation behind each and every post?)
There are other times, when not blogging (at least for me) is selfish. Those are the times when I know that writing something out will probably help others, but I don't really want the "others" (being translated "you guys") to know that I've ever struggled with whatever it is. I've not yet found the balance; neither have you. But that doesn't give either of us an excuse to quit. I am supposed to edify you. Not edifying is a non-option.
No, I don't know how or when or what's the best strategy. (If you have ideas please, please, please comment.) But what I do know is this: this blogging community allows us to be far more involved in each other's lives than typical college students/adults/church goers who pass on the street. I know that I have been edified, lifted up, challenged by each of you, and I hope that I can do the same for "the community." Please, let's learn that balance together, and not throw blogging to the wind as some trivial hobby. "We exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into His own kingdom and glory." (2:12)
I want to continue learning with you guys. Let us believe the impossible.
my blogfast morphed into something different:
blogfast-idiousness.
"I don't have anything worth writing."
"Anything I'd write right now would be depressing."
"I can't edify anybody right now."
"I don't want to put that on my blog!"
Sorry.
Hyper-fastidiousness never helped anybody.
So I'm not even going to go back and edit this.
pbth!
quiet days are hardest.
the world isn't changing
on quiet days.
the prophet walks slowly.
and he wonders
why he's a prophet.
days of calamity,
he gets to see Almighty Power.
days of exhilaration,
he feels the Spirit moving inside.
but quiet days,
nothing.
no stirring wind,
no rising challenge.
why is he a prophet
on quiet days?
the world does not need quiet days.
but prophets do.
we need today
to make us need Him.
why don't we
(Christians)
ask the hard questions?
talk about hard things?
admit hard things?
Happy Thanksgiving!
--a poem
the day before Thanksgiving Day,
my uncle blew his Brains Away.
Happy Thanksgiving.
--kumiko
last night the girls in my room
were joking about suicide, giggling about
how much better it would be
to go to heaven right now.
they didn't want to study.
i hid in my bunk
and pulled down a secret picture of my pastor
that stays hidden between
Christopher Marlowe and Arthur Miller.
my pastor didn't think suicide was a joke.
he thought it was serious.
and now he is gone.
and that is hard.
i thought of my grandma
who lived with us
until i was eight.
and then she
overdosed.
on purpose.
and now she is gone.
and not to heaven.
and that is hard.
my uncle.
the one in the poem.
was a chaplain.
was a friend.
used a gun.
and now he is gone.
and that is hard.
a girl at school last week.
her daddy killed himself, too.
and i'm praying for her.
a lot.
three of those
now gone people
were godly.
respected.
and no one ever suspected.
why?
because
there are some things
we do not
can not
talk about.
some things that are never said.
and those things.
can kill a person.
what things are those?
things that hurt.
things that hurt so deep,
you are afraid to know
that you're the one who thought them up.
and you don't have an answer.
and you can't admit to the
smug-smiling
pew-person next to you.
because you don't know him.
so you keep it inside.
because you're taught
that Christians are supposed to have
all the answers.
but you don't have an answer.
and you don't know that
nobody answers hard questions but God.
and if you can't answer those questions yourself,
and quote three verses about it, too,
then you are not a good Christian
or if you hurt so much
that you happen to lie awake at night
and scream at the ceiling
that there can't be a God,
then you can't be a good Christian.
because good Christians don't ask questions don't feel pain this bad don't doubt.