a greater beauty.

"Our idols cannot merely be suppressed.  They must be eclipsed by a greater beauty..."

I recently came across this phrase and it has been echoing in my head ever since.  I have been convicted of the fact that I often tend toward the suppression of idols.  When I recognize an idol (usually it is myself, my comfort, my happiness, etc.) in my life, I try to push it aside or away.  Sometimes this looks like blatantly ignoring my sin (...maybe if I just forget it's there, then it'll go away, right??).  Sometimes it means making an active effort toward improving the thought or behavior (I haven't been nice to my husband...so I'll start being nicer!  I'll do something special for him!  Surely that will gloss over the fact that I've been a jerk and will make everything better...right?).

These thoughts sound pretty lame as I type them, but they're the things that really go through my head when I'm rationalizing.  I once read that human beings are not "rational" creatures, but "rationalizing" ones-- we can convince ourselves of almost anything that we want to be true, can't we?

Here's the problem: my clever plans to fix myself don't work.  Suppressing idols doesn't work.

Here's why: my appetite for sin must be replaced with a craving for Christ.

I can think my way out of something, pretend it isn't there, or work really hard to make it right.  And sometimes these methods seem to work-- for a while.  But ultimately, nothing has changed.  On my own, I am capable of little more than suppression.

Conversely: "what happens to my appetites for sin when I am filled with the fullness of God in Christ?...Indeed, as I perpetually feast on Christ and all of His blessings found in the gospel, I find that my hunger for sin diminishes and the lies of lust simply lose their appeal," (Milton Vincent, A Gospel Primer).

I am often re-learning the necessity of "feasting" on the gospel; of dwelling on the greater beauty that so easily trumps all of my idols.   Because of Christ, we can know God, and knowing Him brings us the soul-satisfaction that our sin never will.

"O God, you are my God; earnestly I
seek you,
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where
there is no water.
So I have looked upon you in the
sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than
life,
my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands."
-Psalm 63:1-4 (esv)

come, let us return to the Lord

It's been too long since I last wrote here.  I will not attempt to make any excuses except for the graduating thing, the moving home thing, the getting married thing, the honeymoon thing and the moving to Kentucky thing... other than those things, there is probably no reason for me to not blog, right?!

Anyhow, I currently find myself spending my days applying to jobs, running errands, doing laundry, and cooking for Mark.  The downsides to this lifestyle include: being alone for several hours, feeling discouraged with every job description that reminds me I'm inexperienced and unqualified and every email that tells me "thanks but no thanks", and lots and lots of quiet.  The introvert I thought I was is now very confused as to why I am not rejoicing at my present circumstances and Mark has told me repeatedly in the past few weeks that I am, in fact, an extrovert.  I don't know.

On the other hand, the biggest blessing of this season for me is the fact that I get to have daily unhurried, uninterrupted time in the Word and in prayer.  At the beginning of the summer, I had just finished a semester-long study of the gospel of Mark with my roommates.  I decided I needed to choose something new to study on my own, thought it would be good to pick something from the Old Testament, and somehow landed on Hosea.  Honestly, I'm not really sure what made me think that was what I ought to study.  Now that I am several chapters in, however, I see the Lord's hand clearly at work in bringing me to this book.

Frankly, the past few weeks have been pretty difficult for me.  In the process of applying for jobs, I have allowed myself to question whether or not I have anything to offer my potential employers (cue downward spiral of negative self-thoughts).  I have felt incredibly lonely and wondered how in the world we ended up in Louisville, KY, hours and miles away from all of our family and friends.

And I'm reading Hosea and daily being smacked in the face with the reality that just as Israel pursued idols and trusted in kings, I am pursuing the idols of success and achievement and belonging.  I am sincerely believing the lies that if I just got the perfect job offer, or if I just had a few more friends here, this would all go away and I would be fine.

Though I have neglected to trust or hope in the Lord, he has continued to love and pursue me (Hosea 11:2-4).  Praise God that his love for us has nothing to do with our own merit or goodness-- that it flows from his redemptive grace to us!  And these circumstances that I have allowed to affect the state of my heart are not worth trusting in.  Without a heart that is seeking after the Lord, there will always be something getting in the way of the joy that is found in Him.

Working on persistence in prayer and leaning on the grace of my Savior as I fight against my tendency to hope in idols.

dust of earth.

"...I have a longing for the world above,
where multitudes sing the great song,
for my soul was never created to love
the dust of earth..."

-Calvary's Anthem, The Valley of Vision

home.

Today, my parents and little brother filled up a U-Haul and said goodbye to our Kansas City home for good.


I admit that I'm a bit of a wreck about it.

This house has been ours for 15 years.  Most of my memories are connected to it, and Liberty by extension.
I do recognize that moving is a very normal life occurrence, as I've had to shuffle my stuff around from place to place in Kirksville for the past three years at school, and I'm about to make the most significant move of my life to Louisville, KY in a few months (What? Crazy.)

But here's the thing: my family's home was not ordinary.
Fifteen years is a lot of life in one place, particularly when you have parents like mine.  I don't know many people quite as warm or welcoming as they are.  I distinctly remember that even when I was much younger, some of my favorite times at home were nights spent eating a good meal and sitting and talking in the living room with company.


When I got a little older, (and went through a "my parents can't possibly be cool" phase), the Lord often humbled me with the realization that my friends loved spending time in our home because they enjoyed my parents so much.  We had so many sweet nights of conversation in that living room with the extra-soft shag carpet (so no one minded plopping down on the floor).  I had several friends who met individually with one of my parents to talk or pray, and a couple friends who went through pre-marital counseling with my mom and dad too.

I've learned a lot about loving people from my parents and in that home.

And because of this, I recognize in myself a longing for things to remain as they were, for that home to belong to my parents for a long time.

"These things-- the beauty, the memory of our own past-- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers.  For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."  -C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

That home was just a place, and God has called my family to another home where he will use them to point more people to himself.

And ultimately, the "thing itself" that Lewis alludes to is our permanent, eternal home with Christ in glory.  This is what we ought to long for.  Praying that, despite the fact that I will miss my Kansas City home (and soon, my Kirksville home) like crazy, that the Lord would teach me to long for the thing itself.  

heaviness and hope.

Lately, I've been experiencing heartache in various forms.  I've thought a lot about people I care about who don't know the Lord.  I've prayed for them impatiently and with much frustration.  I've thought about the things I believe, how they stand in stark contrast to the wisdom of the world.  I've watched as people on both ends of the spectrum have flung mean and hateful words at each other, and nothing is ever resolved (nor is understanding ever achieved).  I've seen (and personally experienced) the effects of sin on an individual as well as those they have sinned against.

And these things have brought with them a heaviness that I am unequipped to deal with.    I get sad and introspective, and I try to pray, but I struggle to believe that anything can ever be fixed; that the Lord can bring redemption to these things.

The message that I heard Easter Sunday brought refreshing to my weary heart.

We studied John chapter 20, verses 19-31.  Jesus had recently been crucified, and the disciples were fearful and confused.  They were in hiding when they encountered the resurrected Christ for the first time.  Those that were present were comforted by Christ's presence, but Thomas, who had not been there, doubted.  Then Jesus returns, showing Thomas the marks on his wrists and his side, and Thomas believes.

In this passage, the first words Jesus speaks to the disciples are "Peace be with you."  In this I am reminded that no one is able to initiate lasting peace with God-- this is what Jesus did for us when he suffered God's wrath on our behalf.  The only true peace we will ever know is in loving relationship with Jesus Christ.  And he offers it, freely.

Next, we see that Jesus is patient, he forebears with us though we have deserted and disobeyed him.  The disciples had utterly abandoned Christ at the time of his arrest.  After his death, they hid themselves away.  But Jesus is forgiving and faithful, even when we are faithless (2 Timothy 2:13).  When Thomas expresses his doubts to the other disciples, Jesus returns to gently and lovingly show him the truth in the midst of his doubt.

In this way, the resurrection is also personal.  Thomas' response to his encounter with Christ is "My Lord and my God!"  In Jesus' death and resurrection, he has made it possible for us to know him.  Not as a cold and distant being, but a holy, powerful, and personal Savior.

Lastly, the resurrection comes in power.  Jesus' return to life is the seal on God's promise to make all things new (Revelation 21).

Jesus brings us peace with God, he is patient with us in our doubts, sins, and failures, he knows and loves us personally, and he comes in power (over sin, death, our circumstances).  He alone can draw hardened sinners (like I was) to himself.  These promises are teaching me to trust the Lord more in my heartache.  The truths of what Christ has done, that he LIVES, and that he is stronger than my fear, bring with them great HOPE.  I'm praising God for that today.

  

things needful.

"I need spiritual comforts that are gentle, mild, refreshing,

that will melt me into conscious lowliness before thee,

that will make me feel and rest in thee as my All."

-puritan prayer, The Valley of Vision

It's been a long time since my last post.  And I don't like it, because I've found that writing is one of the most helpful ways I can identify the things that have been going on in my mind and heart.  So I'm back, finally, with plenty of thoughts :)  One of those thoughts, recently, comes from Mark 10.  My roommates and I have been studying Mark for quite a while now, and I've been so in awe of Jesus week after week.

I'd read these passages before, but recognized something new in this reading.  In verses 13-16, children are brought to Jesus, but the crowd surrounding him (including the disciples) are shooing children away, seeing them as an annoyance.  When Jesus sees this, he is indignant, telling them to let the children come to him and recognizing these little ones' faith as something special.  

In verses 46-52 we see a blind man cry out to Jesus for healing.  Once again, the crowd sees this man as an impertinence.  Normally, he would have been ignored; looked over.  However, Christ sees the man and brings him in.  He knows what the man needs, but gives him the opportunity to ask in faith.  Then he responds, "Go your way, your faith has made you well" (52).  The man immediately joins Jesus as one of his followers.  

Jesus brings these marginalized people in, validates their worth, brings them healing, shows them kindness, and recognizes their faith.  He does it because he loves them.

But what was so striking to me this time was that I realized Jesus' secondary intent-- he also loves those who were following him already and wants them to see that he desires genuine faith and a true awareness of how much they need him.  It's funny how many times in this study I've come across instances of unbelief in the disciples.  They are almost constantly being surprised by what Jesus says and what he is capable of doing. (It's so funny because if they believe that he is the Son of God, nothing should surprise them.  Don't they know he's sovereign and all-powerful and holy, etc. etc...?)  

And I find it really comical until I recognize that I am just like them.

I am frequently thinking small thoughts of my Savior and placing pressure on myself to be independent and figure things out on my own.  I was hit hard with the reality that as of late it has been my tendency to not really believe that I need Him.  

I'm convicted that this needs to change.  My heart needs to dwell in constant dependence on the Lord.  And it's okay for me to be meek and lowly, because that's exactly what I am.  Praying that I will feel and know my need of Christ more.