The Call

Jesus walks (a relative stranger) into your living room while you're watching the news. He looks at you, winks and indicated the television, 'I'll take you there. Come with me!' Suddenly, it dawns on you that you've been bored for longer than you can remember, and something seems to wake up inside-the part of you that remembers how it feels to falls in love and still gets scared of the dark adn one day wants more than anything else in the world to scream so loud that a window really breaks. And so, without a word, you stand, switch off the 'far-off' vision in the corner and follow the relative stranger out through your own front door.

Pete Greig, The Vision and The Vow

I've got a lot of decisions to make at the moment. I think it's getting to that time and stage of life where I have to choose where I'm going to choose to fight my battles. They're being fought everywhere, above and below the surface. The trouble is, we're too passive, too afraid, not enough to get involved. But fight we must, at least somewhere.

It is so easy to assume that you know where you are going, and that the plan of five years ago still stands. Sometimes it does, sometimes not. You see, we follow a living God who knows of what we are made, and he knows that five years ago you wouldn't have listened to him if he had called you to this. Or if he had, you'd have rushed past the waiting to get there. He knew the waiting, the groaning and the growing were going to make you into someone. Into the someone that he is calling now. Whether the battle you are called to is the one you expected or not, you must fight.

God plants dreams in the hearts of children, I believe that. In fact, I know it as fact. I am just beginning to see that when he does, he is serious. He doesn't promise something which he won't fulfill, and he won't call you somewhere he doesn't want you to go. The route can't always be planned in advance, because he will call you out when you're not expecting it, the waiting will end when you don't even realise you're waiting anymore... but until then you must wait. Wait for the signal which tells you where to go. I want to walk the road less travelled.

Only, from here I can't see which one that is.

Love

bears its soul and jumps
into the abyss
end and beginning
plunges to this
clothed in humanity
born of the womb
awakens eternity
breaks from the tomb
time cannot stop it
nor break its fall
love my redeemer
abandons his all

C.S. Burroughs

Juggling

I've been reading a lot of e.e. cummings lately, and I love what he does with form in his poetry. I thought I'd have a go myself...

three balls
two hands
throw
catch
throw
catch throw
throw catch throw
catch
throw
thud
one falls
thud thud

with only one me
and so much to do
how can i keep juggling

throwing and catching
keep the balls in the air
throwing and catching
is anyone there

another ball
two hands
four balls
faster faster
thud thud thud thud

enough

won't somebody stop me

or teach me
or train me
or grow me
or show me

thie juggling act is too much for me
the circus i'm in has forgotten

thow catch thud

i can only perform when i'm free.

C.S. Burroughs

El Paradiso

When was the last time you thought about heaven? I mean really thought about it. For me it's something that I either take for granted or let slip to the back of my consciousness purely because right now it doesn't seem that relevant. Lately though, I've let my mind linger a little on the thought of all things heavenly. Not because I want to work out what it will be like, but more in the hope that the anticipation will somehow draw me out of the inertia I am tempted to settle for. Some would say that being too heavenly minded makes you of no earthly use, but surely the command to fix our eyes on things above is there for a reason? I don't mean to suggest that we should spend our time with our head in the clouds, but in fact the opposite, that perhaps by thinking a bit more about our destination, and therefore the reason for the journey... that we might somehow be more effective along the way.

I realised a couple of years back that God was allowing things to happen in my life in ways that I could not comprehend, and refused to understand, but despite my pain it was worth it in the light of eternity. The idea of God wanting us to suffer for the sake of it throws too many contradictions at the goodness of God, and I don't for one second believe that that is his intention. I think it is more due to the fact that we are safe. Through the blood of Christ we have been eternally found.

Eternally found.

By the grace of God we can never be seperated from him. As far as we are concerned, we are safe. Thus, I'm beginning to understand that this is partly why Christians often have to go through some pretty mind-blowingly awful stuff. It's about God's glory. And it's about the billions upon billions of people who have still not grasped the greatness of God's very real love for them. Lewis put it succinctly, 'pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world' and he wasn't far wrong. I guess the beauty of it is that God allows us to go through crap so that we know him through it, but more than that, so that others can see the painstakingly painful process of us learning to praise through the pain. To glorify him against the odds, and to say that he is good despite the contradictions. Someone is always watching. I realised that if a season of pain for me causes one person to come one step closer to knowing Christ, then it was not all in vain. I also really believe in the power of an honest testimony... which does sometimes mean admitting our intensely inherent frailty in our misunderstanding or non-understanding of God's ways. In fact, I think often the tear-stained doubts speak louder than those rooftop cries of victory.

Now if that sounded like holy trite... it was certainly not meant to be. I guess I just realised that as far as God sees it all (I'm guessing here) he's got me for eternity.

Eternity.

So, momentary pain for me is nothing in the light of our never ending living that will start when this life stops... He promises to sustain me through the most horrific troubles, and through death itself. The more I let people see him in the midst of it, the more he pushes me to the edge. Because it is all about him. Absolutely. Completely.

I think we tend to fall into two main categories when pondering the heavenly is concerned. Those who think of it as something that will happen, to the extent where it is taken for granted and we live in permanent expectation of perfection, without really grasping the significance of the walking we have to do to get there. The other danger I think is to push it to one side entirely, as something that will happen but really isn't big enough for us to take into account, and certainly not something that 'holy' people ought to be thinking about anyway. I'm sure there are more, but those are two that I have definitely found myself falling into. It's such a fine line, and I know I all too often fall headlong over it... How do we find the balance? How can we live in a way where we are eternally bowled over by the awe inspiring grace of God that seeks the needy out of their filth infested ash heap and seats them with the princes, whilst being secure in the knowledge that being found eternally means we can live this life in an attitude of reckless servitude-giving our all till that kingdom come.

I'm still working on that one.

The other thing I've been working my way through lately is how I'll be able to worship him forever. I mean it's something we sing about all the time, but I just don't know if I can trust myself to be able to when I spend pretty much all my time here dodging the bullet when it comes to giving God the time he deserves... and that I need. I just don't know if I'll be able to. I mean yeah I can sing along happily about praising his name always, but if I think about how little I do it now, then how can I be sure.

Then I realised that I can't.

Every inch of the faith I have here has been bestowed upon me. The very privilege of being able to call him Father has cost the lifeblood of the beloved, and has been given to me freely. So why have I any reason to doubt that he won't do the same or even more in giving me all I need to praise him there? I think also that my view of God is going to be so shattered, blown apart and entirely remade when I see him that I think it'll take all of eternity and more to even be able to tell him how beautiful he is.

Thinking about music in heaven and about worship... Sometimes I wonder if I'll want to worship all the time, whether I'll get bored, and then I get that feeling you get when you stumble across a live band playing a song you love, and like an anthem rising, a battle cry... You realise that you were meant to be there to hear it. I wonder whether it'll be like that in heaven, whether we'll realise when we get there that it is the place we were always meant to be... the place we were made for.

Every night I try to see the sunset. At that key moment I run outside with the camera and try to capture it... just because I know that never in all of history has there ever been a sunset like there will be tonight. And every time it is stunning. Every time it is different. And every time I am silenced. The God of a million sunsets is the sun itself. If the sky goes all those shades of colour when an earthly sun sets... just imagine what it'll be like when the heavenly Son rises.

I guess it's about this.

To live in faith now for that moment then.

Pilgrim Lost

What if I don't fit...?

What if I get there at the end of all this, and find my life too big, too tall, too proud of itself to bow down to his.

Will I hasten to grovel, to dig in my dirt, to face the face of infinity I daily sought to avert? What if all of my theories, and all of my joys, and all of my pains are nothing but toys? If my seeking for known-ness was never to know, and for all my attempting have nothing to show… what then?

Radiating humility, unimaginable light, surely compel me towards fight, not flight. What if they don’t? How could I possible conceive a life inside eternity, yet daily choose to die for so much less. All my plethora of excuses can’t conceal this self made mess.

If the gap is too small, what will I miss… the meeting of his humanity with divinity’s kiss. Yet even this is so far from the worst.

If in all of my dreaming I still see myself.

Brink

on the edge
a glimpse almost seen
will then be lost in the now of the inbetween

infinity tempts
simplicity mocks
all the playing with fire could not prepare
what price of knowing the cost

born to be free
dying to live
that touch of invincible
estranged on the brink

this dream of freefalling falling falling
this dream of freefalling
the last burning dream of the lost

C. S. Burroughs

Echoes

Heart keeps beating
Love gets lost
Hope still breathing
Tears unstopped
Peace is screaming
Joy won't speak
Hope still breathing
Faith is weak
Mind over matter
Can't understand
Hope still breathing
Take my hand.

C. S. Burroughs

But...

So its really easy to be misunderstood...


The way that one heart beats is so different to another. Why should we expect to be understood? Why the craving to be known so completely, why the yearning to be at one with another, and to have nothing to explain. And why is it that the times you try and rebuild those burnt out bridges they crumble beneath your approaching footsteps?

I don't know. And I wish I could say that I didn't care, but...

One in a million

Where shall the world be found?

Where shall the word resound?

Not here, there is not enough silence.

T. S. Eliot.

Loneliness and clatter are not our only alternatives. We can cultivate an inner solitude and silence that sets us free from loneliness and fear. Loneliness is inner emptiness. Solitude is inner fulfilment... Solitude is more a state of mind and heart than it is a place. If we process inward solitude we do not fear being alone, for we know that we are not alone. Neither do we fear being with others, for they do not control us. In the midst of noise and confusion we are settled in a deep inner silence. Whether alone or amongst people, we always carry with us a portable sanctuary of the heart... Simply to refrain from talking without a heart listening to God, is not silence.

Richard Foster

To be one, in a million of other people. Amidst the strivings and the stress, to be at peace. To listen to God's soundtrack to life over the chaotic booming of humdrum. People talk about 'tuning in' to God. I think they're right. It's a choice. To listen to yourself, to listen to others, or to let him speak. To hear his still small voice in the eye of the storm. To be found. That is my desire.

Awakening

I am waking up. Not in the conscious, rising from the depths of sleep sense, but more like an awakening of myself. The last few years have brought with them so many turbulent times, that I have become a bundle of questions, doubts and unanswered questions. In the slow, painful quest for answers, I seem to have lost a sense of peace about God's role in it all. The God I used to trust implicitly suddenly changed, and became unpredictable. Or so I thought. The promises He had made were lost in the breaking. And my identity lost with it.

Until recently.

It's almost like the slow and steady dawn, rising from starless skies, and rays of light exploding across the horizon. I feel like today, for the first time, I saw the sun. A tiny inkling of the excitement faith used to be came to me, and captured my gaze. A small shimmer of light in the dim bleakness of the ordinary. In the light of the Cross of Calvary my doubts are laid bare. In the face of Jesus are all the answers I ever searched for, and more. All of a sudden a glimmer of hope breaks through-life can be what I dreamt it would be.

Love Came Down

Love is a mighty power, a great and complete good; Love alone lightens every burden, and makes the rough places smooth. It bears every hardship as though it were nothing, and renders every bitterness sweet and acceptable. The love of Jesus is noble, and inspires us to do great deeds, it moves us always to desire perfection. Love aspires to high things, and is held back by nothing base. Love longs to be free, a stranger to every worldly desire, lest its inner vision become dimmed, and lest worldly self-interest hinder it or ill-fortune cast it down. Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger, nothing higher, nothing wider, nothing more pleasant, nothing fuller or better in heaven or earth; for love is born of God and can rest only in God, above all created things.


Love flies, runs and leaps for joy; it is free and unrestrained. Love gives all for all, resting in One who is highest above all things, from whom every good flows and proceeds. Love does not regard the gifts but turns to the giver of all good gifts. Love knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds. Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil, attempts things beyond its strength; love sees nothing as impossible for it feels able to achieve all things. Love therefore does great things; it is strange and effective; while he who lacks love faints and fails.


Love is watchful, and while resting never sleeps; weary, it is never exhausted; imprisoned; it is never in bonds; alarmed, it is never afraid; like a living flame and a burning torch, it surges upward and surely surmounts every obstacle... Love is swift, pure, tender, joyful, and pleasant. Love is strong, patient, faithful, prudent, long-suffering, vigorous, and never self seeking. For when a man is self-seeking he abandons love. Love is watchful, humble, and upright. Love is not fickle and sentimental, nor is it intent on vanities. It is sober, pure, steadfast, quiet, and guarded in all the senses. Love is submissive and obedient to superiors, mean and contemptible in its own sight, devoted and thankful to God, trusting and hoping in Him even when not enjoying His sweetness; for none can live in love without suffering.

Thomas a Kempis

The Road Not Taken

I shall be telling this with a sigh,

Somewhere ages and ages hence,
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The final stanza of Robert Frost's 'The Road Not Taken' says it all.

At a time of so many choices, decisions and roads diverging off from one another, it's easy to feel bewildered at the prospect of having to decide ultimately which road to follow. Does your decision for the next year affect the rest of your life, will it entail detours which take you away from your goal, do you even have a goal? These are the questions that plague the mind. Every time you feel able to finally decide on something concrete, a sudden doubt creeps in... and before you know it you're off again for another week of wondering what to do with the time you've been given. How can you possibly know what the future will hold from now?

I wonder if Robert Frost had it right. From this perspective we can't know where our choices will lead us, but in a few decades time we will be recounting our lives, and the decisions we make now will determine what stories we will have to tell, and which stories we will wish we could have told. What about all those things you've dreamt of doing? What would happen if you actually did them? What would happen if you didn't... I suppose the paradox is that whilst we long to know our future, we can't. And as often said, even if we did it probably wouldn't give us peace. We can never know if the road we take will lead to where we ultimately want to go. But then, maybe it will take us somewhere even better.

I suppose that's why Frost talks about taking the 'road less travelled', because that is the greater risk. Whether the allusion was merely to a walk through a wood, or whether it has deeper philosophical implications for living, I'm not sure. But one thing I do know, is that the road less travelled is probably the one to take. Take the road that arouses your curiosity, awakens your dreams, and stretches your faith. It will probably be daunting, it might lead through some valleys, and there may be ogres to fight... but... just maybe, it will be worth it. It might make you who you're meant to be.