Can something be called a passion when you are afraid to pursue it?Well, I started this post last Friday, and now I finish it up a week later. Fitting for me, I suppose.
Last week was quite... interesting. Things started off well on Tuesday with a vibrant thunderstorm after classes. The rain was thick, the wind was heavy, and the sky was alive with lightning. Once I made it to my car, I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes just watching the lightning dance between clouds. While driving home, I began to notice that places had lost electricity. Soon enough, I was in an entire section of Columbia without electricity. The only light came from the lightning and the headlights passing with greater caution than normal. Driving through intersections without traffic lights was terribly exciting. Unfortunately, the storm only lasted the night, and the rest of the week was bright and sunny.
On Wednesday, I decided to try out the men's small group at Radius (which is one of two small groups, to my knowledge, the other being for ladies. Le sigh). It was the kickoff of a new book, one I happened to have read before(though can no longer remember):
Don't Waste Your Life, by John Piper. We watched a sermon of his on a DVD that came with the leader's copy. I must say, it was powerful. I have forgotten about his ideas of seeking Christ first as your treasure in life, so it was something of a wake-up call. Of course, I have a powerful snooze-button instinct. Though convicted, I knew that it would take a lot for me to truly change my ways and turn my self-service to the pursuit of Christ. So, here's hoping. The downside is that its a twenty-minute drive, and with gas prices what they are, it is a bittersweet outing.
I went back this past Wednesday for a discussion on chapter 1 (even though I don't have a copy; gave it away in Senegal), and the discussion was great. I was one of the more talkative ones, actually. For whatever reason, theology can get me going. One guy expressed his amazement that Christians, who know Christ's worth, could choose things other than Him to follow. I was compelled to point out that practice was much harder than theory when it comes to how we live. I think it's a good group, so I think I will (hesitantly) keep going.
If so, then how does one kill fear?Thursday was... a different kind of day. While sitting in class, working on a Visual Basic program, unwelcome thoughts filled my head. The suspicion that despite what I was doing at Midlands, it wouldn't help me in getting a job. The uncertainty about whether I was capable of leading a successful life. The disgust at continually being a loser. The terror of never, ever being worth anything... except pity. I might have shuddered.
When I got home, I felt the need to wash it off. So I got my MacBook and loaded up a DCF sermon I hadn't listened to yet. Specifically, the one from March 23, "The End of All That is Death." I listened, stressed and disturbed, in a dark kitchen with a quick turkey sandwich for dinner. Then, I heard this: "Do you feel death in your own heart whenever fear will not loosen its grip; when the accusing voice will not SHUT. UP.; when your emptiness will never leave you alone; when your joy stays with you only long enough to tease you and remind you of how much you want to experience in your life but you just... aren't?" Words spoken for many, but in that dark moment, crafted for me.
They continued. "Death is not the end, evil is not the end, destruction is not the end, your sin is not the end, the pain you see in the world is not the end." I teared up at these. You mean... I
don't have to live in fear? I can be... happy? At peace? Surely not! Could such hope truly exist?!
And why, why is this so foreign to me? Have I let myself slide so far that I can't even see the incline anymore? Where is my resolve?
Through all of this, I have a growing appreciation for the damage self-pity and over-inflated sense of drama can do to one's self-esteem. Having recently finished the most excellent
A Sense of the World, I am left with the image of a man who let nothing hold him back, not even the loss of his sight. Instead, he traveled the world, wrote acclaimed books, and lived a life that left no regrets. Now I am reading
The Heavenly Man, about Chinese Brother Yun. Learning about his tribulations as he grew into a leader of the Chinese house church makes me feel ashamed for my luxuries. Yet seeing his joy in Christ through all of it makes me sad for what I've let myself become.
And what else must die with it?And now the present. Another delightful storm front has recently moved in. I went out to a nearby soccer field earlier this evening to try and catch some pictures of the lightning as it struck. I was even goading the sky on at the end. Alas, the two pictures of lightning I managed to get are blurry from me jerking the camera towards the strikes.
Oh, and my brother bought an iPod Touch this past week for his mission trip to Mexico next week. I helped him get all our collective music onto it, and I must say, it is one sexy little piece of hardware. There seems to be a problem finding artwork for the albums, most of whom are ripped from CDs. It makes the 'browse-by-flipping-through-album-covers' feature kind of pointless. Thanks, iTunes, for punishing those who don't get their music through you.
One last little bit of irony: N.T. Wright, author of
Surprised by Hope was on the Colbert Report Thursday night. It was one of two books that soon-to-be-former DCF pastor Winn Collier chose for the initial run of his book club. I haven't read any of his recommended readings yet, due mostly to not wanting to lay down the money for them. I must check out those "library" things.
Pun definitely intended.
Twilight out.
