"Compassionate Lord,
Thy mercies have brought me the dawn of another day,
Vain will be its gift unless I grow in grace,
increase in knowledge,
ripen for spiritual harvest.
Let me this day know thee as thou art,
love thee supremely,
serve thee wholly,
admire thee fully.
Through grace let my will respond to thee,
Knowing that power to obey is not in me, but
that thy free love alone enables me to serve thee."
-puritan prayer, The Valley of Vision
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
on forgetting.
I'm realizing more and more that I definitely picked the right name for this blog. There are plenty of things I don't forget-- song lyrics dating back to the late 90's/early 2000's, where Mark left his phone/keys/wallet, etc. last, where I'm supposed to be at any given time (I don't keep a planner!), specific (and even sometimes obscure) details that people have shared with me about themselves/their lives... the list goes on.
However, the things I do seem to forget are the ones that ought to be most planted in my heart. And sometimes, I find there are things that I am even willing myself to forget.
I'm realizing that I have fallen into a very dangerous habit of deciding heartbreak isn't worth the trouble. Let me explain- there are a few people in my life who I care about very deeply who do not know Christ. Not only do they not know him, but they have no desire to know him- they are hostile toward even the idea of God.
For the last few years, this reality has been very difficult for me to deal with. So for a long time, I did the only thing I could think of- I ran to the Lord and asked him to change their hearts, to draw near to them, to reveal himself to them. I was in anguish over their souls. I hurt for them and cried and looked to God's Word and clung to Christ.
But, more recently, I've been doing something else entirely. Instead of seeing their hurts and their sin and their brokenness, and instead of pleading with the Lord to intervene in their hearts, I have tried desperately to forget. Because somewhere along the line I decided that it hurt too much.
Before anyone starts feeling sorry for me, let me just point out what has become very clear to me in the last few weeks-- this "forgetting" I've been doing is completely unloving and totally self-serving. There's no other way to spin it. As it turns out, it is easier not to think about the things that burden my heart. It's also sin.
I have not allowed the vulnerability of pain (over the same things that burden God's own heart!) to be a reality in my life, and I have not trusted in God's power to redeem- to draw near to hearts that are far from him, to open blind eyes, to bring new life.
Though my flesh would prefer that I could skip the hard, painful stuff, the Holy Spirit gently convicts with the reminder that a heart set on contemplating gospel truths cannot help but be broken for those who do not know them. My heart has not been saturated with the gospel, and therefore the overflow of my heart has been selfishness and apathy.
In "A Gospel Primer", Milton Vincent lays out Paul's pattern of thinking in Romans 5-9. In chapters 5-8, Paul shares numerous gospel truths-- because of Christ's sacrificial death we have the free gift of God's grace and everlasting love, we have been set free from sin, we are now in the Spirit, we are heirs with Christ and await future glory- these chapters are beautiful and filled with good news for believers. Then, on the heels of his joy from knowing and delighting in these truths, Paul launches into chapter 9. Here he shares that he has "great sorrow and unceasing anguish" (vs 2) in his heart for his kinsmen who do not know Christ.
I need fresh reminders of the gospel to rejoice in my salvation, to dissolve my self-centered tendencies and to break my heart anew for the lost.
However, the things I do seem to forget are the ones that ought to be most planted in my heart. And sometimes, I find there are things that I am even willing myself to forget.
I'm realizing that I have fallen into a very dangerous habit of deciding heartbreak isn't worth the trouble. Let me explain- there are a few people in my life who I care about very deeply who do not know Christ. Not only do they not know him, but they have no desire to know him- they are hostile toward even the idea of God.
For the last few years, this reality has been very difficult for me to deal with. So for a long time, I did the only thing I could think of- I ran to the Lord and asked him to change their hearts, to draw near to them, to reveal himself to them. I was in anguish over their souls. I hurt for them and cried and looked to God's Word and clung to Christ.
But, more recently, I've been doing something else entirely. Instead of seeing their hurts and their sin and their brokenness, and instead of pleading with the Lord to intervene in their hearts, I have tried desperately to forget. Because somewhere along the line I decided that it hurt too much.
Before anyone starts feeling sorry for me, let me just point out what has become very clear to me in the last few weeks-- this "forgetting" I've been doing is completely unloving and totally self-serving. There's no other way to spin it. As it turns out, it is easier not to think about the things that burden my heart. It's also sin.
I have not allowed the vulnerability of pain (over the same things that burden God's own heart!) to be a reality in my life, and I have not trusted in God's power to redeem- to draw near to hearts that are far from him, to open blind eyes, to bring new life.
Though my flesh would prefer that I could skip the hard, painful stuff, the Holy Spirit gently convicts with the reminder that a heart set on contemplating gospel truths cannot help but be broken for those who do not know them. My heart has not been saturated with the gospel, and therefore the overflow of my heart has been selfishness and apathy.
In "A Gospel Primer", Milton Vincent lays out Paul's pattern of thinking in Romans 5-9. In chapters 5-8, Paul shares numerous gospel truths-- because of Christ's sacrificial death we have the free gift of God's grace and everlasting love, we have been set free from sin, we are now in the Spirit, we are heirs with Christ and await future glory- these chapters are beautiful and filled with good news for believers. Then, on the heels of his joy from knowing and delighting in these truths, Paul launches into chapter 9. Here he shares that he has "great sorrow and unceasing anguish" (vs 2) in his heart for his kinsmen who do not know Christ.
I need fresh reminders of the gospel to rejoice in my salvation, to dissolve my self-centered tendencies and to break my heart anew for the lost.
