Yesterday I wrote on the brevity of life.
Yesterday it was abstract. Today I feel as though I've been hit in the stomach with this harsh reality. I just got word that a friend of mine, a high school debater, passed away this morning. A car wreck claimed his life, at only 16.
I've struggled with feeling angry with God. I've wanted to tell God that He messed up, that He got it wrong. 16 year olds aren't supposed to die. But I know that God doesn't make mistakes.
God is good. God is sovereign. God is in control. I'm so thankful that I know these things are true. I don't know if I'd make it if life were nothing more than a glorified game of Russian Roulette. I can rest in knowing that whether or not I can understand it, God has a purpose, a perfect plan to magnify his glory.
And in the midst of sorrow, sometimes the supremacy of Christ reigns the most clearly. He sacrificed Himself to save a sinful world. As believers we have been purchased by His blood. Though the brevity of this life is simply unavoidable in our fallen world, a joyful eternity awaits those who have been redeemed by the lamb. We all miss Clinton dearly, but we can find hope in knowing that he is raised and with the Lord and Savior that he loves so much.
I'm slowly discovering that nothing is certain in the life but Jesus. He is mine and I am His. I walk with assurance in this uncertain world that He is Risen and one day I'll rise with Him.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Life is a Vapor.
"Life is short. Eternity is long. Live like it."
A little green hard-back book. I don't think I ever would have stopped to pick it up if I hadn't seen John Piper's name printed in block letters on the spine. You should know that I'm a big fan of John Piper.
Life is a Vapor. Not a particularly uplifting title. I know that life is short. And I don't like to be reminded of that. People live. And people die. And the world keeps turning. Life goes on. At least for a little while...at least for as long as I'm living it.
You don't have to look far to find the scary reality of untimely death. A boy in my high school class won't be graduating with me this May. Too many of my friends live in single-parent homes, not because of divorce, but because cancer and car wrecks and heart attacks aren't fair. And all weekend long, insensitive news stations have been playing and replaying footage of the death of the 21 year old Olympic athlete who slipped from his luge on Friday.
Tomorrow is never certain. We must make the most of today.
That's exactly the point that John Piper makes in his 31 day devotional. "Life is short. Eternity is long. Live like it." is emblazoned across the back of the book. I wonder what my life would look like if I really lived that way.
I guess I really shouldn't have to wonder. I should already be living that way. There is no guarantee that I'll be here tomorrow...or even this afternoon.
In James 4:13-15, we are reminded of humanity's fragile ephemerality: "Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit"— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that."
I am so guilty of boasting in tomorrow. Not the eternal tomorrow that I can be certain of, but the worldly tomorrow of school and friends now...camp in the summer...college in the fall. I'm even haughty enough to boast in my plans that I have for 5 years down the road. But ultimately, it's none of my business how God uses me and how long he keeps me here.
"Life is short" is a dismal reminder when taken by itself, but "Eternity is long" draws in an entirely new perspective. I am not long of this world, whether I live into old age or not. Ultimately, my life is in Christ. I was created to live eternally, to exist forever. That's where I should set my sights.
So I'll love life and cherish every moment that I'm given. I'll love people like there's no tomorrow and not leave any "I love yous" unsaid. I'll love Christ with the fullness of my being and forsake the things of this world for his glory. Life is short and when mine ends I don't want to regret having wasted a moment of it. Eternity is long. I plan to live like it.
A little green hard-back book. I don't think I ever would have stopped to pick it up if I hadn't seen John Piper's name printed in block letters on the spine. You should know that I'm a big fan of John Piper.
Life is a Vapor. Not a particularly uplifting title. I know that life is short. And I don't like to be reminded of that. People live. And people die. And the world keeps turning. Life goes on. At least for a little while...at least for as long as I'm living it.
You don't have to look far to find the scary reality of untimely death. A boy in my high school class won't be graduating with me this May. Too many of my friends live in single-parent homes, not because of divorce, but because cancer and car wrecks and heart attacks aren't fair. And all weekend long, insensitive news stations have been playing and replaying footage of the death of the 21 year old Olympic athlete who slipped from his luge on Friday.
Tomorrow is never certain. We must make the most of today.
That's exactly the point that John Piper makes in his 31 day devotional. "Life is short. Eternity is long. Live like it." is emblazoned across the back of the book. I wonder what my life would look like if I really lived that way.
I guess I really shouldn't have to wonder. I should already be living that way. There is no guarantee that I'll be here tomorrow...or even this afternoon.
In James 4:13-15, we are reminded of humanity's fragile ephemerality: "Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit"— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, "If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that."
I am so guilty of boasting in tomorrow. Not the eternal tomorrow that I can be certain of, but the worldly tomorrow of school and friends now...camp in the summer...college in the fall. I'm even haughty enough to boast in my plans that I have for 5 years down the road. But ultimately, it's none of my business how God uses me and how long he keeps me here.
"Life is short" is a dismal reminder when taken by itself, but "Eternity is long" draws in an entirely new perspective. I am not long of this world, whether I live into old age or not. Ultimately, my life is in Christ. I was created to live eternally, to exist forever. That's where I should set my sights.
So I'll love life and cherish every moment that I'm given. I'll love people like there's no tomorrow and not leave any "I love yous" unsaid. I'll love Christ with the fullness of my being and forsake the things of this world for his glory. Life is short and when mine ends I don't want to regret having wasted a moment of it. Eternity is long. I plan to live like it.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Whiter Than Snow.
Snow Day.
All week long the Weather Channel has been predicting snow. I really didn't think we were going to get any though. I don't trust the weatherman. He lies to me. Lots.
But this time he was right. Flurries started falling while I was in my English class. The perfect little flakes swirling as they fell, buoyed up by the breath of the wind. It wasn't long before the temperature dipped just a little bit further and the flakes started to stick.
The snow is beautiful. I know that in other parts of the country that get lots of winter weather, the snow melts into icy sludge...or piles up on the side of the road and gets dirtied by car exhaust, turning it into "snirt"...or it falls on a dirt road and when it's not quite warm enough to turn into mud, it makes a big "snud" puddle.
It's not that way here in Alabama. Our snow falls in delicate flakes. It blankets the world in white. And it doesn't stay long enough for anything to blemish its pure perfection. We don't get much snow here in Alabama, but when it falls it stays as perfect and white as it was when it first tumbled from the clouds.
The white blanket of snow that covers the ground outside provides such a pretty parallel for the washing away of sins. In Isaiah 1:18 God reminds us of his power to cleanse us: "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool."
What sweet assurance that verse gives to Believers. Through the blood of Christ, all of my nasty, dirty sinfulness is washed away. Someday I will stand blameless before the throne of God, not because of my perfect life, but because God is content to look on Christ's righteousness and pardon me.
Like the Psalmist who cried out "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." (Psalm 51:7),I long for the cleansing power of the blood of Christ. I am so thankful that God has provided a way for us to be forgiven, that Jesus has triumphed over the power of sin. He has broken the chains that once bound me. He washes me white as snow.
I am so thankful that God gives us natural, tangible picutres of his work in our lives. Job 37:6 recognizes God's perpetual command over the forces of nature: "For to the snow he says, 'Fall on the earth,'". Today, He must have said "Fall on Alabama." So I'll enjoy the brilliant white-ness of the snow. And recognize that I am free and forgiven. I have been washed whiter than snow.
All week long the Weather Channel has been predicting snow. I really didn't think we were going to get any though. I don't trust the weatherman. He lies to me. Lots.
But this time he was right. Flurries started falling while I was in my English class. The perfect little flakes swirling as they fell, buoyed up by the breath of the wind. It wasn't long before the temperature dipped just a little bit further and the flakes started to stick.
The snow is beautiful. I know that in other parts of the country that get lots of winter weather, the snow melts into icy sludge...or piles up on the side of the road and gets dirtied by car exhaust, turning it into "snirt"...or it falls on a dirt road and when it's not quite warm enough to turn into mud, it makes a big "snud" puddle.
It's not that way here in Alabama. Our snow falls in delicate flakes. It blankets the world in white. And it doesn't stay long enough for anything to blemish its pure perfection. We don't get much snow here in Alabama, but when it falls it stays as perfect and white as it was when it first tumbled from the clouds.
The white blanket of snow that covers the ground outside provides such a pretty parallel for the washing away of sins. In Isaiah 1:18 God reminds us of his power to cleanse us: "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall become like wool."
What sweet assurance that verse gives to Believers. Through the blood of Christ, all of my nasty, dirty sinfulness is washed away. Someday I will stand blameless before the throne of God, not because of my perfect life, but because God is content to look on Christ's righteousness and pardon me.
Like the Psalmist who cried out "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." (Psalm 51:7),I long for the cleansing power of the blood of Christ. I am so thankful that God has provided a way for us to be forgiven, that Jesus has triumphed over the power of sin. He has broken the chains that once bound me. He washes me white as snow.
I am so thankful that God gives us natural, tangible picutres of his work in our lives. Job 37:6 recognizes God's perpetual command over the forces of nature: "For to the snow he says, 'Fall on the earth,'". Today, He must have said "Fall on Alabama." So I'll enjoy the brilliant white-ness of the snow. And recognize that I am free and forgiven. I have been washed whiter than snow.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Facing the Giants.
Deuteronomy.
The book begins with God's instructions to the Israelites to enter into the Promised Land. But entering into an unfamiliar place is scary. So the people gathered a company of spies to scout out the land and return to the group with information. The spies come back frightened, and report that there are giants in the land.
And the fearful Israelites recoil, refusing to enter into the land that God has promised to provide for them.
It's easy for me to condemn the Israelites. Fearful. Cowardly. God promised his people a land flowing with milk and honey. He promised to go before them in battle. But when the Israelites heard that there were giants, they refused to follow His lead.
But when I'm really honest with myself, I realize that I don't even care to mention how much I am like the Israelites. And I shirk away from God's commands at things far less threatening than giants. I fear awkward moments and the mean things people will think of me. I fear rejection and I fear failure. I fear pain and I fear loneliness, but never in my life have I been justified in my fear. I've never faced a giant....but even if I had, I wouldn't have faced him alone.
God promised to go before the Israelites. They wouldn't have been alone in facing the giants either. But to God's awesome offer of victory in battle and a fertile land to call their own, the Israelites said "We're too afraid." In response God sentenced them to wander for 40 years in the desert before he would once again deliver the Promised Land into their hands.
When they became aware of what they had lost in being fearful, many of the Israelites decided they'd suck it up...they'd be brave and take the land, but it was too late. God informed them that He was no longer willing to bring them victory. It was as though he called down from Heaven, "It's too late. I'm not going with you this time." Because they didn't trust, the Israelites lost 40 years of opportunity, 40 years of the Promised Land.
I am so guilty of the same lack of trust that the Israelites infamously exhibit in Deuteronomy. God is all powerful. I know that. God goes before me when I walk in his will. I know that. And I am never alone, for He has promised to be with me to the end of the age. I know that. But I allow irrational fear to rule my life.
However, I differ from the Israelites in one important respect. I don't always know what I've missed out on when I fail to trust completely in Christ. The Israelites were painfully aware that they would wander in the desert for 40 years to pay for their lack of faith, but often when my faith fails me, I continue through my day...never even stoping to think of what I've lost. But I do know that I pay a price for disobedience and faithlessness. Perhaps it's friendships that I've lost because I wan't bold enough to start a conversation, or maybe it's opportunities that I failed to grasp as they passed me by. But more often than not, I think that refusing to trust erodes some of the strength of my relationship with Jesus.
And that's too high a price to pay for feelings of comfort and security. So I'll affirm my faith in Christ. In Him, I can do all things. I'm ready to trust. I'm ready to face the Giants.
The book begins with God's instructions to the Israelites to enter into the Promised Land. But entering into an unfamiliar place is scary. So the people gathered a company of spies to scout out the land and return to the group with information. The spies come back frightened, and report that there are giants in the land.
And the fearful Israelites recoil, refusing to enter into the land that God has promised to provide for them.
It's easy for me to condemn the Israelites. Fearful. Cowardly. God promised his people a land flowing with milk and honey. He promised to go before them in battle. But when the Israelites heard that there were giants, they refused to follow His lead.
But when I'm really honest with myself, I realize that I don't even care to mention how much I am like the Israelites. And I shirk away from God's commands at things far less threatening than giants. I fear awkward moments and the mean things people will think of me. I fear rejection and I fear failure. I fear pain and I fear loneliness, but never in my life have I been justified in my fear. I've never faced a giant....but even if I had, I wouldn't have faced him alone.
God promised to go before the Israelites. They wouldn't have been alone in facing the giants either. But to God's awesome offer of victory in battle and a fertile land to call their own, the Israelites said "We're too afraid." In response God sentenced them to wander for 40 years in the desert before he would once again deliver the Promised Land into their hands.
When they became aware of what they had lost in being fearful, many of the Israelites decided they'd suck it up...they'd be brave and take the land, but it was too late. God informed them that He was no longer willing to bring them victory. It was as though he called down from Heaven, "It's too late. I'm not going with you this time." Because they didn't trust, the Israelites lost 40 years of opportunity, 40 years of the Promised Land.
I am so guilty of the same lack of trust that the Israelites infamously exhibit in Deuteronomy. God is all powerful. I know that. God goes before me when I walk in his will. I know that. And I am never alone, for He has promised to be with me to the end of the age. I know that. But I allow irrational fear to rule my life.
However, I differ from the Israelites in one important respect. I don't always know what I've missed out on when I fail to trust completely in Christ. The Israelites were painfully aware that they would wander in the desert for 40 years to pay for their lack of faith, but often when my faith fails me, I continue through my day...never even stoping to think of what I've lost. But I do know that I pay a price for disobedience and faithlessness. Perhaps it's friendships that I've lost because I wan't bold enough to start a conversation, or maybe it's opportunities that I failed to grasp as they passed me by. But more often than not, I think that refusing to trust erodes some of the strength of my relationship with Jesus.
And that's too high a price to pay for feelings of comfort and security. So I'll affirm my faith in Christ. In Him, I can do all things. I'm ready to trust. I'm ready to face the Giants.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
One of Seven Billion.
Numbers.
I'm one of 7 billion. And yet, He loves me for me. That blows my mind.
Numbers is named for the 2 censuses that occur within the book. 186,400 members of the tribe of Judah...157,600 of the tribe of Dan...151,450 of the tribe of Reuben... Hundreds of thousands of children of God. But more than 2500 years have passed since the Israelites were numbered. And today no trace of them remains. No names. No faces. Just numbers, but that's part of the beauty of the story. The Israelites were God's people in the same way that I am his.
Because of this I can confidently say that it doesn't matter that I'm just one of 7 billion. It doesn't matter that the world may pass me by. If I live and die and am soon forgotten by this place, it won't be my loss. I don't have to worry about security or the struggle for significance in this life because I am His and He is mine. Nothing else matters.
My God, who has counted the hairs on my head and has numbered all of my days has chosen me for life in Christ. He is sovereign and he has a plan for me. I can rest in knowing that his deep abiding love for me will never fail, and that his plan for me gives purpose to my life.
I don't have to struggle for significance because God has already chosen a purpose for me. I was created to bring glory to the God of the universe. What greater purpose could I ask for?
I often wish that I could see God's plan for my life. Especially now, when I'm making so many important life decisions. I'm a planner and I feel safe and secure when I can know what is coming next. But I'm slowly discovering that God doesn't allow me to operate that way.
He doesn't let me see the big picture. Rather, I am required to take each day, one day at a time, keeping my eyes fixed on Jesus. When I focus on Christ instead of the problems that I know lie ahead, I affirm my trust in his sovereign control of my life. I'm stubborn and I'm a worrier, so I struggle to blindly trust, but the surprises that await me in my daily walk with Jesus are so much sweeter than the security that I feel when I get to know what's coming next.
So I'll simply trust. Yesterday I got my acceptance letter. I'm going to be a Vanderbilt Commodore next year, but after that...I just don't know. And that's totally okay with me. I may be just one of 7 billion, but God has a perfect plan for ME. So I'll be patient and accept each day as an irreplaceable gift, because ultimately, that's all life is. A precious gift. And every morning that I wake up brings a new chance to rejoice in my God who loves me.
I'm one of 7 billion. And yet, He loves me for me. That blows my mind.
Numbers is named for the 2 censuses that occur within the book. 186,400 members of the tribe of Judah...157,600 of the tribe of Dan...151,450 of the tribe of Reuben... Hundreds of thousands of children of God. But more than 2500 years have passed since the Israelites were numbered. And today no trace of them remains. No names. No faces. Just numbers, but that's part of the beauty of the story. The Israelites were God's people in the same way that I am his.
Because of this I can confidently say that it doesn't matter that I'm just one of 7 billion. It doesn't matter that the world may pass me by. If I live and die and am soon forgotten by this place, it won't be my loss. I don't have to worry about security or the struggle for significance in this life because I am His and He is mine. Nothing else matters.
My God, who has counted the hairs on my head and has numbered all of my days has chosen me for life in Christ. He is sovereign and he has a plan for me. I can rest in knowing that his deep abiding love for me will never fail, and that his plan for me gives purpose to my life.
I don't have to struggle for significance because God has already chosen a purpose for me. I was created to bring glory to the God of the universe. What greater purpose could I ask for?
I often wish that I could see God's plan for my life. Especially now, when I'm making so many important life decisions. I'm a planner and I feel safe and secure when I can know what is coming next. But I'm slowly discovering that God doesn't allow me to operate that way.
He doesn't let me see the big picture. Rather, I am required to take each day, one day at a time, keeping my eyes fixed on Jesus. When I focus on Christ instead of the problems that I know lie ahead, I affirm my trust in his sovereign control of my life. I'm stubborn and I'm a worrier, so I struggle to blindly trust, but the surprises that await me in my daily walk with Jesus are so much sweeter than the security that I feel when I get to know what's coming next.
So I'll simply trust. Yesterday I got my acceptance letter. I'm going to be a Vanderbilt Commodore next year, but after that...I just don't know. And that's totally okay with me. I may be just one of 7 billion, but God has a perfect plan for ME. So I'll be patient and accept each day as an irreplaceable gift, because ultimately, that's all life is. A precious gift. And every morning that I wake up brings a new chance to rejoice in my God who loves me.
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