I will. Not.

I often wonder why we humans choose what we choose. There are some people we like, and some we don't like. There are foods we don't care for, and foods we love too much. There are days we like, and days we rue the dawning of. There are even verses we like, versus the verses we wish weren't there to remind us of our sinfulness.

So why is it that we are wired this way? I tend to think that God didn't make us to have such extreme dislikes for certain things, though I would be willing to say that he doubtless made us to have great care for a great deal of His creation.

Is it our own free will? Our will that makes us decide "I choose to hate lima beans. And also my neighbour's cat." Because I pretty much dislike free will (regardless of why we decide what we like and dislike, I still stand by my distaste for free will, just so we're clear). But seriously, is it our "circumstances"? We like to blame things on our circumstances ("my childhood was so harsh!") and pretend that we didn't really have a choice in how we turned out. But I dare to disagree. You know as well as I do that we can change (through Christ's strength) how we act. For instance, I'm not a morning person. But I've managed to vaguely overcome that. I didn't used to like plain yogurt. Now I do! I can think of a few people that I didn't really used to like with whom I share at least a vestige of camaraderie.

But... Well, I guess I don't know what I'm getting at. I just think it's interesting to consider that we're all in possession of a fleshly nature. However, the power of Christ that dwells in us is greater than any power the world has to offer. Take that, lima beans.

Treasures of the snow

Where I live, it snowed last night. Now, I figured it would snow at some point in late March/early April, as it always seems to, but I must admit to being not-so-pleasantly surprised when the snow came. It wasn't too bad (my mom measured at our house, I guess, and we got two inches), but it was all icy, and stuck to my car like crazy. Which was fine, except for the fact that it took about 10 minutes to scrub off my car this morning before work.

Obviously it reminded me of Job 38:22. "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? Or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail...?" I know that word is hail, but I like to think that it's secretly about all forms of ice. There's just something about the sparkling world of ice that makes me feel like God made it specially for our enjoyment. He didn't have to give water the ability to freeze. I mean, He could have made science a whole lot different, if He'd chosen. But rather, He made water freeze into tiny droplets of promise. Light shines through the ice to reflect sunlight all around.

Funny how much I like winter once I know it's nearly finished.

Meditation

I was talking to someone this weekend who was talking about how much meditation has helped their spiritual walk. Which was cool, because I had just been talking to someone recently who was saying that everyone should spend a minimum of fifteen minutes a day meditating.

I'd been thinking about this recently, because one of my friends and I have banded together to put together a series of devotional-type things. Not for public reading, no, no, but rather for our own encouragement. Something that will help her and I both in our personal walks with the Lord, and something to help draw us closer together in our relationship with each other. It's been an interesting exercise, to say the least.

For one, I'm sort of a conversational writer. I write like I talk, and neither of those forms of communication are very conducive to legitimate-feeling edification. Secondly, I'm terrible with remembering references. One thing I've found myself doing with these devotionals is that I spend half of the time looking up references, because I have no idea where anything is. (Though I usually know where it is on the page in my Bible, if that helps!) A third problem is that I haven't made it enough of a priority. I take the time to read my Bible, and pray, but spending the time to look up verses, and string them together with cohesive thoughts, is something I just haven't put to the top of my priority list.

My friend was "building me up" and reminding me that it was something that was worth making a priority. Good point, my friend, good point.

Safe

So, I'm not feeling very wordy today. I'm feeling, however, that I love knowing that I'm safe in Christ's care.

Wow. I just had the weirdest feeling ever. I all of a sudden remembered that when my Dad told us that my brother had passed away, he jumped out of the van where we were waiting for news, and (I think) he said to my mom, "He's safe." That's not weird, it made sense (remember when David from the Bible asked if the young man Absalom was safe? I think it was reminiscent of that), but what's weird is... I'm not sure.

Fine, fine, it was six years ago, but the details of that day seemed like things I'd never forget. Sitting on the porch swing for hours, trying to read my book (ironically, Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow), but being worried sick about what could have happened. Kneeling in the living room, praying with my family for the safety of the members of the family we were worried for. Trying to go through the motions of the day, playing games, making meals, exactly as if we were going to sit down that night like a normal family and have dinner together.

But all of a sudden, I don't quite remember if my dad said those words, "He's safe." I can ask someone and refresh my memory (and I will!) but it's been so far archived in my brain that it's not retrievable with 100% accuracy.

Sorry. Sad moment alert. Good thing I know I'm resting safe in the Father's hand, right?

Now I know!

I may have mentioned this before (at least once) but I've long wondered what the Lord's will is for me slash my life. I know that He has a will for me (and I tend to make everyone else aware of that), but it's hard to pin something down in concrete. "I will be a missionary when I grow up." That's something most of us aren't comfortable just out-and-out saying. We're more apt to say, "Well, I've praying about it, and I really think the Lord is leading me into His work. I'm tentatively scheduled to go to Zimbabwe this summer." Mind you, I like that second sentence better. It leaves a lot more room for the Lord's will to actually be accomplished in whatever capacity He chooses.

But there is something that I know for certain is the Lord's will for me. I know of a specific thing that He wants me to do (well, more than one, but let's just dwell on this one, because it's worded awesomely).

"In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." I Thess. 5:18.

It's that easy. If we (code word: me--I don't see to many other people over thinking this) stopped and were truly thankful for everything then we would be certain to be inside of the will of the Lord.

Just a tiny part of His plan for my life, but I'm only human, so I only understand small amounts of things at a time.

Mama Mia

A friend and I were having this discussion the other day: what do we want out of life? I'm not the type of person to worry about what I'm missing out on, and that type of thing, but here's the deal--I figure it's something to at least consider. I'll do whatever the Lord intends for me to do (have I mentioned recently that I have a job in insurance?) but the little secrety inside version of myself wants to have a family. Children. Crayon stains on the wall and meals and laundry.

That's what I miss when I work. Cooking. Laundry. Well, I still do laundry sometimes, and dishes all the time, but only when I'm rushed. I can't even tell you the last time I vacuumed, because I don't have time.

And one day I'm sure I'll look back on these carefree days and wish I had them back because I'll be tired of cooking every night of the week, and tired of yard work, and tired of silly putty in the carpet. I'm sure that day will come.

But even then, when I think about what parts of life are really worth experiencing, I can't help but think that a husband and children would feel more fulfilling than getting a raise for the dozenth time.

Disclaimer: I'm willing to do whatever the Lord wants me to, and if that means being single for my entire life, that's fine. But my natural inclination is to want a family.

By the way, why are families so unpopular these days? I actually read a magazine article one day stating that people should be brave enough to say that they don't want children. You have to be able to live your own life.

And I'm not saying you shouldn't live your own life (though I like to think of my life as bound up in Christ's life), but the article was presented as if children were a disease or something. Seriously.

Priorities? What priorities?

Monday was the ides of March. Sunday was National Pi Day. Wednesday was St. Patrick's Day. Guess which one of those I forgot?

I reminded my family about National Pi Day ("What happens on National Pi Day?" they asked. "I dunno, we make... pies?"), reminded them about the Ides of March ("I look my Graduation Test math test on the ides of March," I mused pensively), and come Wednesday, I showed up at work, and lo and behold, I wasn't wearing green. It's not as if I usually do, but this year my excuse was simple: the thought hadn't so much as crossed my mind.

So I guess it goes to show where my priorities are. Namely, sweet holidays v. boring and typical ones. Adventure strikes again!

How great Thou art!

I like to stop and think sometimes about how great God is, and how much we don't understand Him. His ways are higher than ours, He clothes the lilies, He watches the sparrows. He upholdeth all things with His power, He stands in the great divide between us and everlasting punishment.

He also does/is many billions of other things.

And... He's my Father. I love that.

Rich with details

The next time someone tells you that the Bible is a dry book best meant for church, tell them to read the story of Joseph. Every time I read the story of Joseph I just marvel, because it is so incredibly full of texture and fabric and everything that makes for an amazing story.

The story trails back to even before Joseph was born, of course, but even just consider Joseph's childhood--surrounded by three mom-ish things, plus a real mother, and 10 older brothers who didn't think too keenly of Joseph. Consider the account of Rachel dying while bearing Benjamin. Do we ever stop to think that Joseph was motherless? I think his motherlessness must have had at least some effect on the way he turned out.

I mean, consider Reuben's sin with Bilhah (clearly didn't get the thou-shalt-not memo in regards to thy father's wife), and then contrast that with Joseph's clear refusal of Potiphar's wife. Clearly their moral standards were not on the same level.

Then consider the interesting emphasis there is, in Joseph's story, on his various coats. His coat of many colours, the coat that Potiphar's wife stole from his back, the coat he donned to go meet with Pharaoh, and the coat that Pharaoh put on him after making him second-in-command. No "dry book" would spend time talking about someone's various outfits.

I could go on and on, but I think you all know the story. I just love to read it, and see all those little things that make the story seem so much more real. For instance, after Joseph cried when he saw Benjamin for the first time, he washed his face before coming back in. The Bible doesn't have to record that, but it makes it so much more remarkable when it does!

Plus, since Joseph is a type of Christ, that brings a whole new level of meaning to the story. Honestly, it's truly incredible!

Be still

I don't spend enough time in prayer. I don't spend enough time in the Word. While my relationship with the Lord is fine, I can't help but thinking how much more amazing it could be. I Think that a relationship with the Lord is one of the few things in life that we can actually continually cultivate, and it can just go up and up and not have to come down. Now, we're humans, mind you, so there's that whole thing where we're just foolish sometimes, but in general, the Lord is always willing to grow closer to us, it's just a matter of us allowing Him into every corner of our lives.

Which is why I say that I don't spend enough time with Him. Because truth be told, usually when I read the Bible in the morning, it's not really very long, and just when I'm thinking something new and wonderful about whatever it is that I'm reading, I realize that I have to go have breakfast, or finish doing my hair, or some other trivial thing.

And why is it, that whenever I start to pray, I suddenly think of half a dozen things that I need to do? That's awful! I should be so focused on the Lord that I don't even remember about the vague things that fill my thoughts on a regular basis.

And especially the Bible reading thing. The Bible says, "Thy Word have I hid in my heart." It doesn't say brain, because, while memorization and knowledge are important, it's really the fact that we allow the Word of God to melt through us and saturate our life.

Which is why I need to be still. Still enough to finally listen when He talks, still enough to focus on Him.

Evidence

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

I love that. The evidence of things not seen? I just like how it's worded. I've talked about faith before, we're all familiar with it, but somethings I just realize how incredible it is that we humans have the capacity to trust in things we don't see.

Everybody seems to think that believing in God is such a difficult task, because we can't see him. But we believe in wind. I can't see wind. We believe in cancer, and the natural eye can't typically see cancer. We believe in the far reaches of space, which we can't seem to find, no matter how hard we try. What makes God so different?

On a less-related note, a funny story.

My brother sneezed the other day at dinner and proceeded to tell us all that he liked to try and hold in his sneezes. I then informed him that when you hold in a sneeze you kill a bunch of brain cells. My family looked at me like I was crazy, at which point I spluttered, "No really, I read it in a science book or something!"

That's when my sister replied, "So you believe in evolution?"

Well spoken, sister mine.

Purchased

On the topic of parables, here's a good one. The story of the guy who found the pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought the field--what did he sell? And from whom did he buy?

I guess I should have capitalized all of that, because the "he" in the story represents Christ. Actually, are we supposed to capitalize pronouns that don't actually entirely refer to the Lord? I'm not sure.

Moving on.

We all talk about how we were purchased with the blood of Christ, bought with a price, etc. And that's good, that's from the Bible (1 Corinthians 6:20, for example), but from whom were we purchased? Was the transaction with the Father? Were we purchased by the Son from the Father? Because I certainly don't think that Jesus was transacting with Satan or anything like that. So we were purchased, saved from the clutches of sin, but from whom?

And in the parable, the merchant sold all that he had, and purchased the field with the pearl in it. What did Jesus have to give up in coming to Earth to save us? He didn't give up His Deity, nor did He give up His place at the right hand of God. I guess it's one of those things that I won't know until Glory.

And once again, if we were smart enough to understand God, well, that just wouldn't make sense, would it? =)

100

I was already planning on writing about the number 100 this morning before I logged on and realized that this is my hundredth post. Nice.

I was thinking about the parable of the hundred sheep. We all understand that the one lost sheep is you or I, or anyone in need of a Saviour, who was sought out/is being sought out by the Lord. We all know about how the angels in Heaven rejoice over that one sinner that repents.

But... what about the 99? Who are they? Do they represent the pharisees from the Bible, or regular-type people who aren't saved (yet)?

And I know it's "just" a parable. As my dad consistently has to remind me, shadows and pictures in the Bible are just that--shadows. Pictures. Not entirely matching up to the reality of the situation. There's no way to have a perfect picture of Christ, because Christ is perfect. Nothing else compares. So that leaves us with fragments of the story, which is fine, because if we could understand the whole story, then God wouldn't be... God.

But I still don't understand who those 99 are. So if you have an inkling of who they represent, please let me know.

Monday

Mondays are amusing to me. While everyone else is grumping around because they're back at work, I grin a little bit on the inside, because I've started the work week, and I'm no worse for the wear.

I was trying to explain that to someone today, and they just didn't understand. Their loss.

What really gets me are Wednesdays. I always feel like I should be so much closer to the end of the week and yet... I'm not.

Just remember, there are no Mondays in Heaven. Or Wednesdays.

Happy (Belated) National Grammar Day

Yesterday was one of my most amusing holiday celebrations. Not that I really celebrate National Grammar Day, but I keep it in mind and tell people, randomly, to have a Happy Grammar Day.

So, to all of those folks out there who say "ain't" and "nothin'," well, I love you anyhow. However, if you are in a possession of a good vocabulary, sound mind, and a grasp of grammar, more power to you. Yesterday was your day.

Well-favoured

I'd actually forgotten about this until I was reading the story of Jacob and Leah/Rachel yesterday morning, but I think it bears repeating.

You know how the Bible describes Rachel as well-favoured? Well, that word "well favoured" is usually coupled, in the Bible, with the term for people who were a little stockier, or chubbier, or whatever word you choose to use.

The cattle in Pharaoh's dream, the one Joseph had to interpret, the one where they were fatfleshed? Yeah, well-favoured cattle.

Remember how the prince of the eunuchs in Daniel's time was worried about them eating the pulse instead of king's meat, because they'd get too skinny? Those kids were well-favoured.

Does that mean Rachel fell in that category? Not per se, however, I thought that was pretty amusing.

I'm not sure this bears any significance upon my daily life, or yours, but it made me grin as I read it in my Bible reading. Nice.

Going nowhere fast

At my prompting (I chose the parking spot), my brother got stuck in the snow on Monday night. But we didn't realize this until long after we'd parked (I was already in bed, which means it was at least 9:00) when he was trying to head over to my grandmother's, and wasn't able to move the van.

Oops.

I heard the sound of nothing being accomplished (you know the sound; wheels spinning, an engine roaring), bounded out of bed, threw some boots on, and went to go help him. Now, here's the best part: I had some version of the flu and wasn't feeling well, and he had some sort of cold/fever and was vaguely delirious, and rather weak.

So I told him to drive, I'd push. I wasn't ready to faint, at least. So, pushing and pulling, shoveling (with an honest-to-goodness garden-variety shovel) and shoving, we got out. I knew it was taking a long time, but it wasn't until my mom showed up (my brother and I had been the only ones in our family at home--everyone else was away being useful at my grandmother's) fearing for our lives, that we realized that almost an hour had passed as we had struggled to get the van out. My mom had tried to call me (believing me to be in bed and available to answer the phone) and getting no answer from me (any of the four times she called) and since my brother hadn't materialized, she decided it was high time to come home and see what ailed us. Ironically, I gave the van the last needed shove just as she came up the driveway to meet us, and we could have had my brother to my grandma's within 10 minutes.

As it was, we all went back in the house, cleaned up (my pajamas were totally covered in muck from the spinning tires, ew!) and went to bed. I'll say one thing for the experience--all that running around sure did put me into a deep sleep that night!

Songs in the night

While my mother and I were discussing sleep (and lack thereof) recently, she made a rather cute comment which I shall endeavour to recount. We were discussing the trials of insomnia (oh, my favorite) and my mom was sort of indignant that I should find it a trial in any capacity.


"At least you have something to think about!"

By that she meant that I was a Christian, and when I'm awake in the middle of the night, I don't have to lay around (lie around?) worrying about the end of the world, or my finances, or anything like that. Rather, I can have some quiet time to spend with my Father in Heaven. I can pray, review memorized verses (which is usually pretty futile, since my poor memory plus a sleepy fog equal no recollection of things I may or may not have effectively learned), and do other profitable things.

So good point, mom, and thanks. At least I have something to think about!

Wordy nerdy

I love words. Have I ever said that before? Because I do. As does my whole family, actually, which has greatly amused our current company. We keep a dictionary in the dining room and use it with great frequency during meals to check definitions and pronunciations and the various etymology of words.

Last night, sitting around in the living room, we started discussing the pronunciation of a certain word, and I realized that we didn't have a dictionary in the living room. What a terrible oversight! I promptly told my parents that we needed to rectify the situation, at which point my mom most cheerfully told me that at least I could get my exercise this way. Fine then--I marched to the dining room to look up our word. After which I took a detour to my bedroom to collect my OED so we could properly research the word.

This was when our befuzzled guest amusedly blurted out that he'd love to watch us play word games. Oh, trust me, it's not as fun as it looks.

First of all, we usually belabour the point (whatever the point may be in the various word games we play) excessively. We discuss whether the verb can be pluraled or singulared, and everyone has a vehement opinion on the matter. Nice.

But it's fun because, well, our family has a lot of fun when we do pretty much anything. Bible readings, picnics, trips to the museum, home improvement projects (which we are greatly in the midst of in recent days), games--whatever the activity, we tend to enjoy it. So yes, we love word games. We love words. They're not the be-all and end-all of our family experiences, however, since I come by my love of words naturally, yeah, I'd say we tend to spar a little more wordily than many families that I know.

Like I always say, my mom taught me to love and understand words, and my dad taught me to respect the power that words carry. With all that knowledge tucked inside of me, I figure that's why words hold such appeal to me.