This N' That, July in My World
A Walk Through the Garden
tealights along the back deck...
the sunflower patch - nothing blooming yet...
Of Books, and Words Underlined
"...'We do not keep ourselves by our own power', Pascal wrote, (in our own strength), 'we have only the counterbalance of two opposing vices, just as we stay upright between two contrary winds. Take one of these vices away, and' (in our own strength), 'we fall into the other.'
What did Pascal mean by this? A man or woman who works very hard may simply be avoiding the sin of laziness by being filled with selfish ambition or greed. Remove his or her hunger for more money and this person will immediately become as lazy as any of us.
Others might be very disciplined around food. They would be the last persons on earth you would label as gluttons. Yet they are disciplined around food because they want to have a physique that will draw attention to themselves, not because they don't want food to have a hold on their hearts and steal their affection for God. They may be free from gluttony only because they are slaves to vanity.
Do you see how we play vice against vice - using vanity to destroy gluttony, for instance - and are upheld by the struggle of two sins? This is a much different holiness than the ancients' view of a transforming passion that gives birth to virtue. On and on we could go, showing how 90 percent of our virtue is a sham, a vice wearing a coat and tie. That is why Jesus constantly pointed us to the heart..."
Reading this yet again today, I found myself rejoicing over the grace of God. In the gospel, I have been made the righteousness of God in Christ. No longer do I have to lean on my own understanding, depend on my own human performance, or compare myself to anyone else. I am certain that I am quite imperfect in the estimation of a friend or spouse or child or employer, but none of those people are God. In the estimation of God, I am fully accepted in the Beloved Son.
The gospel of this radical, divine love, as displayed in the finished work of Jesus, is the transforming passion that gives birth to true virtue....grace alone gives birth to accomplishments of any eternal value. He only is "Maker". I can not make of myself anything resembling true virtue. I have set a trumpet to my mouth in this regard, and intend to use it to make a clear and certain sound...trumpeting New Covenant glory...until I leave this earth for heaven, where I will take it up again for the same reason.
90 percent of "my" virtue is a sham. Thank God for the gift of the righteousness of God through Christ.
Powerful Hymn
Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea,
A great high Priest whose Name is Love,
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart,
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end to all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free,
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me,
To look on Him and pardon me.
Behold Him there, the risen Lamb,
My perfect, spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace.
One with Himself, I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood.
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God!
One with Himself, I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood.
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God!
Can We Articulate It?
On the other hand, if I immerse myself in Spanish culture....ah, that is entirely different. Fluency in the language comes. I can begin to pick up on inflection, nuance, and cadence.
There was a time in my life when I could make grace-sounds. After all...I had heard about grace, through some messages here and there in my short life. "By grace I am saved through faith, and that not of myself. It is the gift of God."
I had to have been not more than ten years old when I memorized that Bible verse. Therefore, as a grown woman, I thought I understood grace, and could speak about grace...what was there not to understand? I'd heard the "song" enough times before, I felt sure I could sing it.
Here is how I may have sounded:
English sounds, in a way, but no real words, and obviously no understanding. Likewise, I used to make grace- sounds...I could speak gospel syllables...but with no immersion in the truth, there was no clarity, no real personal impact beyond my own assurance of heaven, and behavioral modification.
Gentle reader, I am no Mariah Carey, but let me tell you. Today ~ I can sing the wonderous love of Jesus. I can sing His mercy and His grace. My language is effortless, passionate, and clear. I've been immersed in the gospel of Jesus - grace besotted, fluent and confident in all Christ has done...and consequently the old dialect of law, which distorts the language of grace whenever you try to mix them together, that old dialect of law has nearly disappeared altogether.
I speak native grace.
Now, when I speak about grace, the words and the phrases and the stories I tell all reveal immersion in the concept. I'm living it, not just repeating sermons I may have heard about it. Not just parroting doctrine. Not just singing songs that have no passionate and personal meaning to me.
No more "Ken leeeeeeee tulibu dibu douchoo."
Hallelujah-wahoojah!
Summer Breeze, Makes Me Feel Fine...
Settle back, and accept the heat and even the humidity. There is comfort in accepting some things exactly as they are. Relax into it, don't fight it, don't dislike it, because it just "is". You are in my back yard with me, at June's end, here in the luscious, luminous, languid South.
As soon as you begin to unwind, you'll start hearing all the tranquil layers of sound that surround us...the soft strains of a worship song carried by the outdoor speaker...my son and his friends playing in the pool in our neighbor's back yard....deep voices, laughter and splashing...birds singing...the breeze that makes the branches of the huge oak tree breathe, whisper, and do ballet...you will hear the windchimes. No one sound overpowers another; it all blends into a soft, watercolor sound-palette, no harsh edges.
I'm taking painting classes this summer, and with each new lesson, I am more and more in love with words. See, my mind is always making cross-applications. I'm the type of person who can watch an infomercial, and be smacked side-ways with a revelation into the ekklasia (the community of the called-out ones).
Words are my first love, in terms of art-form. I love their every nuance, cadence, and shade of color. I am compelled to trick-out my days with words, accessorizing my experiences, maximizing the joy. In more than one way, I am defined by the words I use.
Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks....words. Words spoken aloud, words spoken silently, they both equally will express and reveal what I truly believe, and what I believe will ultimately define who I am. A good woman, out of the good treasure of her heart, will speak good words. The things she says, even inside her head, will be good. Thus, the things that come out of her mouth will be good.
That Greek word for "treasure" (found in Matthew 12) is....well, you won't believe what it is. I just learned this today. That Greek word is....thesauros. Does that not just knock you out? Is that not crazy-delightful? Yup, we get our English word "thesaurus" from this Greek word, found in Matthew 12.
My heart is a treasury of words. As the Psalmist said, "my tongue is the pen of a ready writer."
I'll be quiet now. Sorry. I got carried away. I need to take my youngest son to work, now, but you just sit and relax. Make yourself at home - my back yard is your back yard...there is nothing better than summer in the south.
And a Very Happy Blog-Birthday to Me!
my very first picture, on my very first blog, last year. it took me forever to figure out how to do it! opening the door of my heart to the world was an unforgettable experience.
One year ago, this month, I plunged into the blog world. You can't quite call me "cutting edge" can you? I was a late comer to the blog scene, but that is just fine with me because I have a life to live, otherwise there ain't nothin' to blog about. I had been limping along for years with a used and always crashing laptop, and busy with life in general.
Last year, on Father's Day, Tim secretly got ME a new laptop. That was "his" 2008 Father's Day present. He's like that....and yes, I am blessed to be the most cherished wife in the world. Don't think I don't know. I am profoundly grateful every single day. I couldn't help but think about my husband, my laptop, and the birthday of my blog this past Sunday - Father's Day 2009.
I'll never forget clicking the icon "create blog". I'll never forget saying my first words. It felt like (timidly) opening the door to the world, and inviting them in for June peaches and pound cake.
And you came. You visited me! You like me! (How lame is it, to say that? I can't help it...) Lydia, Jamie, Ursula, Joel, Caryn, Chris and Christine, Dan, Jul, Ann, Donna Jean, Kim, Robyn - and so many more, along with my church family (who have indulged my passion for the computer keyboard, and borne with my need to write above and beyond the call of duty or friendship).
I have shared my passions, my home, my church, my children, a son's high school graduation, a daughter's wedding, birthdays and anniversaries, my heart and my thoughts and even a few of my secrets in this place, over the last twelve months. Blogging has been one of the sweeter blessings of my life, this past year. I am looking forward to my second year of seeing the world through the eyes of a writer - and more than that, through the eyes of a blogger. I hope I have been as gracious a guest on all of your blogs as you have been on mine.
Time is precious. Your time is most precious of all. I count it a joy and a privilege that you would spend even a minute or two with me here. Please come back and say hello when you can.
A toast: to blogging. Ain't it fun?