7/12/16

The Daily Grind of a Functional Faith

Too often we look to anticipation to carry us into an event. We believe, somewhere deep inside, that if we haven't built ourselves up towards a thing, a time, an occasion - then it is inconsequential or will surely be a disappointment. We measure our future connections with God by our past experiences with Him - and therefore limit Him.

You see, the times we run full force into the wonder that is the God of the universe, it was not as we had planned. It may have even seemed to be an accident, a coincidence. It was neither. It was the creator of the universe revealing to us in His full magnitude the glory of Himself in that moment. We were not prepared at all, but he made us aware of His greatness - and we were changed.

And so the next time we feel like He should arrive, we try to prepare ourselves. We weigh the preceding moments on what we know about ourselves and what we think we know about Him. We arrange things and times and try to control events and people, only to find ourselves at the painful end of a letdown - one that we anticipated, if we're honest.

We built up a moment so much in our minds, and it didn't deliver.

The problem was our sight. Not just the direction of our looking - which was backwards - but the openness of our hearts eyes. The vision of our spirit was set on what we thought we could explain. We had set up limitations and guidelines, boxing in a God that cannot be contained. We were trying to catch His mystery in a cardboard box and it just couldn't handle the mass.

For a faith to be practical, it has to shed that which we understand and be open to that which doesn't yet make sense. God is preparing a moment for us in His mystery. If we're stuck in our tunnel, telling Him what will help us, we will find ourselves disillusioned. If we lift our head from the pillow every morning anticipating greatness - He will deliver. 

5/16/16

Desert Whispers

My first writing love is poetry - which has expanded into my intrigue with spoken word. This is the first of many poems/spoken word pieces to come:


Desert whispers,


Exhaled from the excavated cavity that is my heart,


Once a spiritual spring - it is not springing - His praises I am not singing - the dry is stinging


I am parched


A life lived in the lurch - struggling to get past the hurt / the pain - - the dirt / the stain


Looking to move forward in hope - in a new direction - not perfection - just something better than wasting away in the desert I find myself in today


Tomorrow - I forgive? I take a step?


What's next? What's best?


Which move opens my ears - to hear


His truth - not the voice of my fears


About failure and shortcomings - gotta stop running - away - and run towards Him


Let tomorrow begin


In the quiet still I hear a calling - faint and patient, and relentless - stirring me to be restless - and I'm growing desperate


To live, no thrive, in His purpose - dwell near His throne, abide in His service

But today I am dry, I am parched, like tinder but no spark

3.22.16

1/14/16

The Irony of a Functional Faith

I don't know if it's the holidays coming to an end or the promise of a new year with new opportunities, but there is something a little overwhelming about this time of year. Sometimes that's a positive thing; sometimes negative.

All at once I find myself longing to be committed to this Christian habit or that congregational activity - yet I come to the realization that I am admitting to a lack of hunger.

My biggest request of Him, has been hunger. Maybe biggest is the wrong word. 'Most  repeated' may be the best way to put it. I admit to the selfish prayers, the "why me?" prayers, the lottery prayers, etc. But when I am just empty and forlorn, I pray for hunger. Hunger for His word, His truths, His joy, His ability to see those closest to me through His eyes.

I love those times when I have given myself freely to the God of angel armies. When I have nestled myself wholeheartedly into his comforting embrace. The picture of a relentless trust in a God filling a spirit to overflowing.

I am not there today. I have not been there for some time. I do not feel hungry.

But I want to be. God...give me hunger for you.

The irony of a functional faith, I contest, is the inherent dis-function in the human side of the equation. This journey we signed up for is difficult, do not be fooled. A faith that is working (functional), ought to be working itself out.

Thus, in my darkest hour, I have repeated, daresay chanted, this request over and over - give me hunger for you!