Today, I was doing a lot of weeding. I’ve neglected my flowerbeds over the last few months: the grass started growing in with the flowers, then I didn’t want to pull the grass out b/c I knew most of the flowers would come with it, but it finally got to the point where the grass was definitely choking out the flowers. So today was Weeding Day. And as I was weeding (and feeling a bit sad as I ripped out some beautiful flowers with the weeds), it occurred to me that the weeding process is a lot like what God does with my life as he changes my plans for his plans. Out come the weeds, out come some pretty flowers with the weeds, and everything looks empty and ugly… prepared for fresh flowers, fresh mulch and something much better than what it was before. 

So here’s to remembering that, especially when God’s ripping out my flowers along with all the weeds.

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so i can see
Everything i keep missing, give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see.

- Brandon Heath

Why is it such a constant struggle to see things with God’s eyes instead of our own? Why is it that a dozen times in a day I look at people with my own eyes, in terms of my own frustrations with them, instead of through God’s eyes as hurting, broken sinners? Why is that so hard to do? And will it ever become more natural? Jesus told Peter to forgive his brother 70×7… but it wasn’t for Peter’s brother, it was for Peter. It was Jesus saying: look again. Look a different way. See through my eyes. Judge by my standards. Not yours. Quit trying to approach the world on your terms and start approaching it my way. So when will I ever start doing that, instead of keeping on trying to do it my way and failing? When will I ever start seeing things through Jesus’ eyes?

“Do not be conformed to this world.”
- Paul to the Romans

“That I may know him, and the power of his ressurection, and the fellowship of his suffering, that I may be conformed to his death.”
- Paul to the Phillipians

What does it mean to be conformed to Christ, to be conformed to his death rather than being conformed to the world? If I am living– really living– as I ought to be living, as someone who has died to self and lives to Christ, who is transformed instead of conformed, who knows nothing but Christ and him crucified… then the myriad “I’m a Christian…” conversations I’ve been having in the last week are stating the overly-obvious. And if it’s not obvious, then I’m missing it. Again.

Why is it so easy to be conformed to the world, and such a challenge to let go and let myself be conformed to the image of Christ? Why, even knowing the greatness of the riches of God, is it such a continual struggle to let go of myself, my dreams, my way of doing things? Why do I hold so tightly to the things of this life that I know are of no lasting value, instead of reaching out to the One who is greater than this life?

And of course there’s a part of me that wishes it were just that easy, that just doesn’t understand why I struggle so much with what should be simple, obvious choices to die to self and conform to the will of God… why I have such a hard time making the leap of faith that faith demands. That the commitment and surrender and death to self were a one time deal instead of a day by day and moment by moment choice to make. And then, of course, I have to laugh at myself for thinking that following the Crucified should be easy. And of course it’s not… self doesn’t die easily or quietly. No, it begs and pleads for its life… making reasoned arguments and emotional ones, and arguing against being made a fool for Christ. And I listen. Far, far too often I listen and become Judas, betraying my Lord for own desires. But my desire is to be transformed and conformed, not to this world, but to the suffering of Christ. “I do not think that I have yet laid hold of it, but this one thing I do: forgetting everything that is past and stretching toward what lies ahead with my eyes fixed on the goal I push on to secure the prize of God’s heavenward call in Christ Jesus….” Thank God for grace.

Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.

If you go through
there is always the risk
of remembering your name.

Things look at you doubly
and you must look back
and let them happen.

If you do not go through
it is possible
to live worthily

to maintain your attitudes
to hold your position
to die bravely

but much will blind you,
much will evade you,
at what cost who knows?

The door itself
makes no promises.
It is only a door.

– Adrienne Rich

I read this poem a few days ago on The Velveteen Rabbi and it’s really stuck in my head. If the door is the decisions you make in life, how do you know when to go through the door and when to back away? If it’s not one of those situations where the will of God is clear, do you go through the door or not go through? And is one choice better than the other, or are they simply different choices, with different costs and outcomes? How do you count the cost of a decision without knowing what the outcome will be? And in the end, maybe any choice is just a leap of faith… a step forward or backward into unknowns. And why do I always want to stare down the doors as if they have the answers that really only exist in the heart of God? It is only a door, but I struggle to remember that and keep things in perspective.

This is everything I want.
This is everything I need.
I want this to be my one consuming passion.
Everything my heart desires,
Lord, I want it all to be for you.
Jesus, be my magnificent obsession

Capture my heart again.
Take me to depths I’ve never been.
To the riches of your grace and your mercy.
Return me to the cross,
Let me be completely lost
In the wonder of the love that you’ve shown me.
Cut through these chains that tie me down to so many lesser things,
Let all my dreams fall to the ground until this one remains

This is everything I want
This is everything I need
I want this to be my one consuming passion
Everything my heart desires
Lord I want it all to be for you
Jesus be my magnificent obsession

You are everything I want
You are everything I need
Lord you are all my heart desires
You are everything to me
You are everything I want
You are everything I need
I want you to be my one consuming passion
Everything my heart desires, Lord I want it all to be for you
I want it all to be for you Jesus
Be my magnificent obsession.

- Steven Curtis Chapman

 Not that Scooter and I were the only ones interested in this phenomena… there was also a peeping-tom frog watching from the pond:

But he swam away after being photographed:

For what it’s worth, the two main characters were apparently unbothered by the barking, the pawing, and the flashing. No frogs were harmed in the making of these pictures.  

Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend

With thee; but sir, so what I plead is just.

Why do sinners’ ways prosper? and why must

Dissapointment all I endeavor end?

Wert thou my enemy, O thou my friend,

How wouldst thou worse, I wonder, than thou dost

Defeat, thwart me? Oh, the sots and thralls of lust

Do in spare hours more thrive than I that spend,

Sir, life upon thy cause. See, banks and brakes

Now Leaved how thick! laced they are again

With fretty chervil, look, and fresh wind shakes

Them; birds build– but not I build; no, but strain,

Time’s eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.

Mine, O thou Lord of life, send my roots rain.

- GMH.

(And me. Sometimes, someone else has just already said something so throughly, there’s no sense in trying to add to it. This is the place I’m at tonight, and there’s some comfort to be had in knowing that 100 years ago someone else was at this same place. There really is nothing new under the sun.)

Well, it finally came down this week. Not because of anything I did, but because my electrician stopped by to do some more work on my electric box now that all the bricks were back where they were supposed to be and had his team take it down. That, in and of itself, was a blessing to me. I walked around for two or three days being thoroughly happy about my tree-free roof, and the fact that there are still good Samaritans in the world to do things like that… and that on top of all that, there weren’t even any holes left from the tree. The grace of God… seen through an electrician removing a tree… seen through a tree falling on my house. Isn’t it funny how God has a way of doing things like that? Things in my life that seem like a bad deal too often end up being showcases for him, for his grace or goodness or mercy or providence. Funny  how that works sometimes…

I want to have the faith to be able to see God working when the tree hits my house.

And not just after its gone.

In the beginning, God created… and God said “Let there be light. And there was light.”

I think sometimes we forget how vital and life-sustaining light is. I know I do. Our society is one in which light is readily available… my bedroom, for example, contains an overhead light (4 lightbulbs), 4 lamps, and at least 2 flashlights at all times. I can fill the room with light without any appreciable effort on my part… and I have a tendency to take for granted those things that don’t require much thought or effort. Thanks to Oklahoma’s recent catastrophic ice storm, I spent 9 days without power over the last week and a half. No light, save the inconsequential flashlights and later the floodlights of police helicopters patroling for looters. No light in my house, no light on my street, and no light in my city. My day began to revolve around the light… more or less ending when the light ended. The world was cold and dark, and I was anxious for the sun to rise in the morning. And as I drove from house to house checking on the families I work with, I began to appreciate the light. Over those 9 days, I began to read the Biblical passages on light in a new way.

And God said, “Let there be light. And there was light.”

Have you ever thought about how amazing that is? What the light must have been like, cutting through the primordial darkness? What the world’s first glimpse of light looked like? And then Jesus, being the light, shining in the darkness and the darkness not understanding. Christians, being lights.

 In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God. He was in the beginning with God. Through him, all things were created, and without him nothing was made which has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men.

There is a starkness in the difference between light and dark. Instantly noticable. Unmistakable. There is no confusing the two. In Christ, there is life… a life that is light to the world. As we enter winter, with short dark days and cold nights, let us remember our source of light and life.

During the power outage, many of those who regained power before their friends, neighbors, or family stepped out to share: a warm bed, a warm meal, or even an extension cord. The message, from many, was “I have light. You can come here.” In the most basic sense, that’s what we’re called to do as followers of the light… to share the light we have so others can benefit from it. Love the light. Share the light. Be the light.