image by Philippe Toupet from Unsplash It's been a long silence, I know. But I'm alive and well! and ready to start writing again (perhaps not as regularly still, but at least enough to start the ball rolling again.) I've tried to maintain this blog regularly on a weekly basis since I first started it, taking it as a challenge to help myself grow, spiritually as well as in discipline for writing. However, as I've grown and struggled, I've realized that sometimes, in certain seasons of life the specific way to grow that I determined for myself may not always be the one I need right now. The desire and goal remains the same, to grow; but, I'm realizing, perhaps not always in the way I had envisioned or planned for myself. This is something I've been forced to see, not just in this particular area of my life, but in almost everything else. By God's providence, these 2 pandemic years have been significant and full of challenges for me. I think these 2 years have changed me in many ways, humbling ones for sure, ones which actually leave me feeling less strong, less confident, less sure of myself--yet, if they ultimately make me more Christ-like, can only be for the better. Uncertainty. Self-doubt. Fear of the future, of what it will bring, and of future regret/guilt over decisions I make now. Realizing how much I lack wisdom and how much I need guidance, even though I thought I already knew that. I remember being so depressed last year when the pandemic first hit and I was struggling with fears about my work, future, relationships (or the lack thereof,) and establishing/proving myself in my writing; issues of identity, achievement, and fulfilment. Times like those are when we need to journal our thoughts and emotions, try to process and understand ourselves; and I did a lot of that, but it also sucked a lot of my energy and confidence to write for this platform. Acknowledging and dealing with my own messiness and confusion was as much as I could handle. However, the pressure of feeling like I had a backlog of self-imposed writing assignments only added to the crisis of internalized definitions of success/benchmarks of achievement that I was wrestling with. I realized that if I was to deal with this at all, and learn to stop seeking my fulfilment/identity in meeting all these standards, as God was showing me with increasing clarity and urgency, I would have to change my mindset on this as well. So I took a purposeful break from blogging and firmly told myself that page views, or the satisfying posting "streak" I had maintained so doggedly and determinedly, should not be something I cling to in order to pat myself on the back. I would take a break and come back when I was ready. It hasn't been a fun experience, to say the least, but it has also been one of thanksgiving, and for that I am grateful and soberly amazed. That, even when I'm still very much bogged down in this phase, I can still honestly say that. I wouldn't have expected that of myself. I have learnt a lot about myself (mostly bad things) and God (all good things.) At the very least, I can acknowledge the goodness of that. My church Bible study program has gone on to the Minor Prophets, and we're currently on Habakkuk. Minor Prophets are tough. I used to wince at the depressing, dark visions of judgment, lamentation, and destruction. What a painful and heavy message to bear. Habakkuk especially--the prophet himself is torn, pleading with God, dismayed by the visions of war and judgment. There seems nothing to be thankful for, and everything to mourn for. In the early chapters, there is much to learn about the historical context, of sin and idolatry and judgment and God's mercy as well as God's holiness and justice. But the ending of Habakkuk was a beautiful note of transcendent hope amidst the chaos and darkness of the previous chapters. 16 I heard and my heart pounded, my lips quivered at the sound; decay crept into my bones, and my legs trembled. Yet I will wait patiently for the day of calamity to come on the nation invading us. 17 Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, 18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. 19 The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights. My heart echoed these verses almost painfully. A world stricken with disease, fear, conflict, suffering, and war. We see that today, everyday, in the news from different countries, in the headlines reporting suspicion, hate, and disunity, in the death tolls and the accounts of desperate needs, physical and financial and spiritual. I see that in my own life, when I'm tempted to fear the future and wonder what is going to become of me, what opportunities or hope there is for me, how I might be ruining my life and setting myself up for future regret. It seems so impossible once you consider how little you can control or know--how can one look forward to happiness and fulfilment? (yes, I probably have some anxiety issues.) Habakkuk's joy was in a Person, not a situation. Therefore, it was constant and resilient, because God is unchanging. Like Habakkuk, I hope to cultivate this kind of attitude of humble faith and peace. Regardless of my situation--which I can't control--I have joy and strength, not in myself or others, but in Who He is, and what He has done for me/how He stands in relation to me, as my Saviour. (v 18) Verse 19 especially seemed so unreal--could I somehow have this strength, this sureness and confidence of a deer scaling dizzyingly high mountain tracks, to navigate my own murky and confusing path right now? I feel much more like a stranded hiker with a fear of heights, clinging desperately onto the scrubby bushes by the narrow track, and feeling like any one false step would plunge me irrevocably down. And, this surreal joy and strength that Habakkuk describes isn't some flimsy, blind emotional high. It is a conscious choice that he makes even when fully acknowledging the bleakness of the circumstances and his own fears (v 16)--even in the midst of what sounds to me like a panic attack (pounding heart! quivering lips! trembling legs and weakened bones!) as he waits--"patiently"!!-- for the coming judgment. Wow. For the rest of 2021, and whatever unknown lies ahead--may we cling to this hope, and find the joy and strength we need.
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image by Christopher Sardegna from Unsplash Luke 9: 23 Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me." Taking up the cross was something that only condemned criminals did. When they took that cross up, they knew what it signified; that they were on a path that would end in them leaving this world behind. When Jesus used the cross as a symbol of discipleship, it was a sobering analogy. Prompted by Search the Scriptures, I found myself wondering what it meant to take up your cross daily. Denying your lusts and idols, dying to sins--those should be the first things that come to our mind when we visualize the cross, and what happened to Christ on it, because of us. This should be an ongoing activity every day in our lives, something we are consciously and actively pursuing, and not just an isolated burst of feeling that we experienced on the day we were converted. Together with this comes an awareness of reliance and need on God, since by nature this process requires His help. The cross also becomes a visual image of living each day in the knowledge that we are on the road to death, to an end. Carrying with you a reminder that our time here is temporary, and we're on our way--soon--to a spiritual realm. And not just carrying unwillingly, but voluntarily picking it up each day. Thinking over this, I could see what transformation this would work, at least for myself: Our eyes would be opened to discern true priorities, freeing us from the things that don't really matter, but which we so easily are enslaved by; A heightened appreciation for life and the blessings God has given to us while we are here; Enables us to have more patience, and more loving interactions with others; Helps us to have freedom and peace from worrying too much about the future; Nurtures a more humble, peaceful self-awareness grounded in our purpose and our walk with God; Gives us a heightened sense of purpose and ownership over whatever time, opportunities, or resources we have. The instability, uncertainty, and fears that this pandemic wrought in our lives certainly make it easier to visualize what it means to live each day knowing that death lies ahead of us. But doesn't it always? image by Averie Woodard from Unsplash No food. No water. Surrounded by dry, dead sand as far as you could see, and maybe a withered shrub or too. With no sign of resources at hand, you only had the promises of God to sustain you. Exodus 15:22-16:36 --God allowed His people to endure thirst, hunger, and disappointment; to test them. They had already experienced His power to save at the Red Sea. Now they had to trust in His power to provide. In the interval before God answered them, how would they respond while they waited--patiently, with faith, or at the mercy of their fears, anxiety, the insistent voice of unbelief whispering to look at their situation, look at how bleak it all seems, how distant God is, how do we know He'll keep His word? As Moses reminded them, their complaints were far more significant than a one star review of him as a leader. Their complaints revealed a lack of faith in God's ability to provide for them, and doubt on the person of God--His goodness, His faithfulness, and His timing. There have been so many times in my life, but especially recently during this year with all that has happened in my own life as well as to the whole world's, where I have been faced with the unattractive duty of waiting in the wilderness for God. There is no prospect of food--water--on the immediate horizon. I am very much aware of how uncomfortable and restless I am right now, how much I don't want to remain in this situation another minute than I have to. The promises of God--His providence, His sovereignty--are very hard to hear over the growling of my stomach and the dryness of my throat. Where? When? Why not now? Why do You keep me waiting? I demand, chafing helplessly. God did this not out of a sadistic pleasure in seeing His people suffer. Far from it. Relief was at hand, though they didn't see it yet. But the purpose in letting them endure that interval of waiting, where they were tempted to doubt, was for a far greater goal than satisfying their physical hunger and thirst. Deuteronomy 8:2--"to humble and test you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not, and to realize that man shall not live by bread alone but by the word of God." (Wow. This could have been God's direct answer to me in my own dry spell of waiting.) In our intervals of waiting in the wilderness, when we are sharply, uncomfortably aware of our need and very anxious to have it met, our hearts are revealed with a clarity that would be hard to find in Elim, where--surrounded by 12 wells and 70 palm trees--the Israelites flourished in delicious comfort. When we are waiting in the wilderness, the genuineness of our faith is being tested. Can we glorify God in our trials? 1 Peter 1:6-7 In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honour, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, image by Ioc Nguyen from Unsplash J.I. Packer's book Knowing God was a classic that I'd often heard my parents recommend, but when your home has shelves of theological and Christian books and your parents are somehow always discovering a new gem of a book every other day, you get a bit desensitized after a while. I mentally stowed Knowing God away on my endless To-Read list and figured one of these days--after I'd finished the stack of half-read books waiting for me patiently on my desk/bedside/bookshelf--I'd get into it. ...knowing at the same time that the chances weren't all that good, considering how many times I'd said that to myself about multiple books. Reader, I am proud to report I finally did get to it. And it was a lot more simple and straight-forward than I expected, for an old book. I thought, to help consolidate what I'd read (and also to compile my notes since my handwriting isn't the most legible) I would do a short chapter by chapter series of posts breaking down the main points of each chapters, and some of the key quotes and discussion questions which I felt were the most helpful. So for chapter 1! Packer begins by establishing why he wrote this book, his premise on what it meant to know God (and what it was NOT) as well as why it was important: "The conviction behind the book is that ignorance of God--ignorance both of His ways and of the practice of communion with Him--lies at the root of much of the church's weakness today." The knowledge of God's nature and character is practical and deeply relevant for life (preachh!) contrary to popular opinion that theology is stuffy/academic and only necessary for Bible seminary students and pastors. 5 foundations which should characterize our knowledge of God: 1. God communicates to us via the Bible 2. God rules over all things for His glory 3. God is Saviour and actively manifests His love through the saving work of Jesus 4. God is triune 5. Godliness = responding to the revelation of God with trust and obedience, faith and worship, prayer and praise, submission and service. True religion = a life lived and seen in the light of God's word. Packer also warns that before we embark on learning about God, we need to examine our hearts to discern our motivations for doing so, and ask ourselves this question: "Why do I want to know about God, what will I do with this knowledge?" Theological knowledge will only feed our egos if we pursue it for its own sake, if we "seek it for the wrong purpose and value it by the wrong standard." Our desire to grow in knowledge of God should be practical, rather than theoretical--in order to know God and enjoy Him better. (This, by the way, is something I had learnt myself, but never was able to articulate so clearly and powerfully. I agree with him one hundred percent. If we only seek knowledge about God for its own sake, and fail to apply it to our lives practically, we are in huge danger of becoming proud, self-righteous hypocrites blinded to our own sins, like the scribes and Pharisees) "We must seek, in studying God, to be led to God." How do we ensure this? By meditating on each truth that we learn about Him--dwelling on it, so that it has an impact how we think of and relate to God. This should give rise to praise and prayer--how we grow in love in delight and enjoyment of God. Packer defines meditation = purposefully dwelling on knowledge of God: "talking to oneself about God, arguing oneself out of moods of doubt and unbelief into a clear apprehension of God's power and grace." It is "an experience of being humbled and exalted" as we draw near to God and realize a little more what He is like, and what that means for us right now in our lives. |
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