Life Grip

You've probably heard, and used yourself, the phrase, "death grip". Probably not all that uncommon. You've also likely heard the commercials for Dodge in which we are encouraged to "grab life by the horns." These two phrases came at me a couple of days ago and intersected in a weird kind of way.

I'll take the second one first. The problem with "grabbing life by the horns" is that it's not really an option for us. In fact, seems to me the more I try to grab onto life, the more I find it slipping through my clenched fist. The more earnestly I seek to hold tightly to this life, to swing it in my direction, according to my best laid plans, the more I find that I am not really the one doing the grabbing, or the swinging. Steinbeck's classic phrase about the best laid plans of mice and men seemed to make that long journey from high school english class to the present and home into my brain.

The first phrase is the basis for the title of this post. Some things seem to catch us in a death grip, to take hold of us and squeeze the very life out of us. It's in those moments that we find ourselves struggling to breathe, gasping for air, feeling for all the world like our guts are being torqued into oblivion. Whether it's in a relationship, a financial situation, a job issue, it's that completely powerless and virtually helpless feeling.

God, who is the author and giver of life, wants to do just the opposite. He wants to catch us in a life grip, to take hold of us and our lives, and relentlessly pour into us the divine ability to live. In his hands, we become the willing objects of divine life, which in turn is poured out to others in a ceaseless river of life.

Some Christians, many well-intentioned, have made a habit of pointing out that they possess eternal life. To my shame, I've been one. In effect, we have been very deft at pointing out that this eternal life is our possession to the exclusion of others who we know for certain, do not possess this eternal life. Jesus did not come to be grasped by us, to be possessed by us. He did not promise that we would grasp eternal life and hold it as our everlasting possession.

Jesus came so that eternal life (eternal not being simply quantitative as in endless, but also qualitative as in divine) might possess us. Not the mechanistic possession that becomes controlling and driving, but the laying hold of our life that results in an alteration of that life for the good of His Kingdom, and through His Kingdom, the good of this world. We are not possessors of eternal life, eternal life has gripped us.

What If...?

"What if...?"

I was thinking yesterday about the debilitating effects of this question. I find myself continually asking this question, and going over scenarios in my mind where I wonder if things could have or should have played out differently.

Maybe in the act and process of awakening, one of the most important things to remember is that yesterday is gone, in the words of Tolkien, it has "passed like rain on the mountains, like a wind in the meadow." I cannot greet the new day without leaving behind the old one. I cannot, and will not, embrace the dawning without looking forward. I'm amazed at our capacity for looking backwards, and attempting to walk into the future that way. I'm amazed because I'm convinced that God does no such thing.

Of course, for him, past/present/future are really nothing at all, just words we must use to distinguish the passage of time. It seems that for God the only real time is the present, the now, the moment that is eternally before him. And in those moments, "what if" doesn't mean very much at all. "What if" is just a convenient way of locking God out of our present, and keeping us from moving into the future. "What if" is another circumvention of destiny, another way around the difficult path that lies ahead.

I'm awake, it's early (for me), and the "what ifs" of yesterday are scratching at the door, wanting to come in. For now, I'm keeping the door closed, and walking forward.

For a great read on this and things like it you might check out Seizing Your Divine Moment by Erwin McManus.

Morning

Morning and I are not friends. I am not just realizing this, I am just re-observing it. My brain seem surrounded by a thick fog, my joints ache a bit more now than they used to, and sometimes (ok most times) my heart just isn't in the act of getting out of bed. There is so much of me that desperately wishes to bury myself in the covers once again, and pound my face back into the pillow. To embrace and be embraced by this wonderful thing called sleep.
I guess it's a perfect metaphor for my present experience with God. While he has been sounding the alarm clock to wake up for some time, I have continually pulled the other way and plowed headlong back into the warmth and comfort of my bed.
All I can hear him say is that the time for sleeping is over - it is high time to awaken and live. It is beyond time to give my life its purpose, its center. It is time to cast off the sleepy restraints of comfort and security that sing the sweet lullaby of apathy over my head.
Because the reality and truth are that I am not really tired. Some invisible and contradictory force keeps telling me I'm exhausted, but I know in my soul that it's false. Exhausted from what? Oversleeping? I cannot be exhausted because I've already done so little. So little accomplished with what I have been given that it sickens me to think of the waste and uselessness of it.
That drowsiness of spirit that comes from too much sleep is my enemy, not my friend. And although I began by saying that morning is not my friend, I think I begin to see more clearly now. Morning isn't the problem and neither is the morning sun. The problem lies with me, with my unyielding desire for comfort and predictability - for the provision of safe places devoid of risk and passion.
If I may compare, God's voice sounds to me now like the repetitive buzzing of a brazen morning alarm clock. There are moments when I know, without a doubt, that I am being called to rise up and to begin the day. But those moments are often followed by a fervent desire to throw the alarm out the window and pretend its sound never jarred my ears. There are even more moments that I, with every intention of getting up, turn off the alarm gently only to roll over once and be quickly, stealthily engulfed in sleep.
If you're looking for the good in this, here it is. This morning, I got up. I sat up in my bed and put my feet on the ground. I hobbled half asleep into the bathroom and turned on the light. Today the alarm clock inside got the better of me. I'm awake.

In the Beginning (Part 2)...

Hi and welcome to The Dawning!

This is going to be a standing post that you’ll always be able to link to from the “Links” section on the front page of the blog. The purpose is really quite simple: to give you an opportunity to tell your stories, ask your questions, or share prayer needs. It’s possible that I’ll use your questions or stories as fuel for a post later on (with your permission, of course), but in general I’d just like to stimulate some conversation among you as the readers about where you’ve been, where you are, and maybe even where you’re going.

Feel free to interact with each other, to express your thoughts and ideas openly, and to be liberal and generous with the grace you extend to each other.

With that said, let the stories flow…

In the Beginning...

Hi and welcome to The Dawning!

I’m relatively new to the phenomenon of blogging, but my thoughts on it have already changed, and my intentions have shifted in the 8 months or so since I began writing.

My original intent in beginning this blog was to create a place for me. A place where I could express my thoughts, sharpen my writing, and maybe even blow off some occasional steam that builds up over time. I never was much for ranting and raving, however, and I think my posting (hopefully) tended towards a more constructive vein.

Over the past couple of months I was struck by two thoughts. First, that keeping this space to myself and a select few friends was a pretty selfish thing to do. If I believe that some of the things I’m trying to work through are important, then I should share them with as wide an audience as possible. Second, I had kept this blog private especially in the context of my role as the pastor of a church. I had willingly (sorry to say) attempted to bury my thoughts because I was concerned about what people in my church would think if they really knew what I was thinking at any given time. I didn’t give them enough credit, nor trust enough in what God might do through a medium like this. For that I’m pretty disappointed with myself.

So now, for me, blogging has evolved. I’m not simply trying to write my thoughts, and blow off some steam. I’m trying to create a place where we can interact with each other, wrestle with some difficult questions, and see each other grow in the process. I’m hopeful that you’ll join me in this journey as we move forward together.

A practical word. Some of you are self-confessed technically challenged. Commenting on this blog is a relatively easy endeavor. At the bottom of each post there is an underlined section of text that will read “___ comments”. If you click that link, it will give you the opportunity to leave your comment to be read. You’ll be given three options for posting comments. The first is to create a Blogger account and login using your Blogger username. That’ll take you some time, but it’s an option. The second option is “Other”. If you select that option you’ll be able to leave a comment with your name attached, without signing up for a Blogger account. The third option is to comment as “Anonymous”. Feel free to use that option if you would like, for some reason, to post a thought without everyone knowing who you are.

Ok, I think that should be enough for us to get started. Thanks for joining me and the other members of the community who are already here. We’re glad you’re with us, and look forward to the perspective you’re going to bring.

Grace and Peace,
Keith