You ask me how I know it, and I take you, not to the infinite spaces where stars march in rhythmic order, nor to the hedgerow where God smiles in flowers; but to the rough brutal cross of Calvary, to the hour of the dying of the Christ.
"God commendeth His own love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." My brethren, such love is royal, and royal love makes claims upon loyalty. What shall I do in answer to that love? We have often sung together: "Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all!" Have we not sung that wrong in two ways? Have we not sung it first as though we would say, I cannot give Him so great a thing as the realm of nature, I can give only myself to Him? That is wrong. It is wrong in His thinking if it is not in yours. He counts you, bruised and broken, sinful, dying man, He counts you more than the whole realm of nature. When one day He held the infinite balances in His hand, He said,"What doth it profit a man, to gain the whole world, and forfeit his life?" That is His estimate. God so love you that He would not feel Himself enriched if He could save the whole realm of nature and lose you. How do I know that? Because He gave something infinitely more than the whole realm of nature, He gave Himself in His Son for you.
If you want to know your value by the measurements of love, God measure you by Himself. When you next sing that verse, do not sing it as though you had nothing to give--if you have yourself to give. If you have yourself to give, give yourself. That is all He wants. Have we not sung that verse wrongly in the next place by singing, "Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all," without the answering abandonment? My brother, my sister, answer that love tonight, not by singing of its demands, but by giving all you are to it. Give yourself, with all your wounds and bruises,with all your weakness and frailty. Answer that love, and that love will remake you until at last you shall be meet for the dwelling of the saints in light. May God in His infinite grace speak this word to us as no human voice can speak it.
G. Campbell Morgan Westminster Pulpit Volumes 1&2 pg. 137-138
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Calm After Storm
Isaiah has long been my favorite Old Testament book, though certain portions of it have confused me regarding the character of a loving God. And then I read the following excerpt from The People's Bible where the author is speaking of the 25th chapter. Here we find Isaiah, after delineating the judgments of God, now speaking of the calm after the storm:
"We can only understand the highest, sweetest meaning of this chapter in proportion as we enter into the spirit of the one which precedes it . . . it is full of clouds, and darkness, and judgment. The Lord himself seems to have yielded to the spirit of contempt, and to have held in scorn even the work of his own fingers. The sarcasm of the Lord is intolerable. His laugh, who can stand? It is a laugh of judgment; it comes after certain moral experiments, and endeavours, and issues; it is not frivolity, it is a singular aspect of judgment, the only aspect which certain men in certain moods can understand; for they have withstood mercy, and compassion, and tears, and they have seen God himself in an attitude of supplication, in the posture of a supplicant and a beggar, and they have turned him from their heart-door.The only thing which he can now do is to laugh at their calamity, and mock when their fear comes. We have walked through the dark valley of the preceding chapter, and now we come to a calm after a storm, to a sweet and beauteous song, to an eventide that carries the burden of its waning light easily, and that shines upon us with mellowest, most comforting sympathy. Who could claim such a God as a refuge? An hour or two ago he thundered in the heavens as Almightiness alone can thunder; nothing was sacred to him that defied him by its bulk and power and pride; he turned the earth upside down and laughed at its impotent endeavours at rectification. Who can flee to him, and call him by all these tender names----a strength, a refuge, a shadow, a sanctuary?
"The very terribleness of God is a reason for putting our trust in him. Probably this view of the divine attributes has not always been sufficiently vivid to our spiritual consciousness. We have thought of God, and have become afraid; whereas when we hear him thundering, and see him scattering his arrows of lightning round about him, and behold him pouring contempt upon the mighty who have defied him, we should say, See! God is love. What does he strike? No little child, no patient woman, no broken heart, no face that is steeped in tears of contrition.On what does his fist fall? On arrogance, on haughtiness, on self-conceit, on self-completeness. He turns the proud away with an answer of scorn to their prayer of patronage. God is only terrible to evil. That is the reason why his terribleness should be an encouragement and an allurement to souls that know their sin and plead for pardon at the Cross.
"In the 4th verse we find what we may term a completing view of the divine personality and government. Say whether there is aught in poetry that streams from a fountain with this fluency:
Thou has been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall. (verse 4)
"Here we come upon language which the heart can understand, and which the heart responds to with personal gratitude. Sometimes the Scriptures leave us. They are like a great bird with infinite wings, flying away to the centers of light and the origin of glory, and we cannot follow them in their imperial infinite sweep; then they come down to us and flutter near our hearts, and speak or sing to us in words and tones we can comprehend. This verse is an instance in point. Every man who has had large experience of life can annotate this verse for himself; he needs no critic, no preacher, no orator, to help him into the innermost shrine and heart of this holy place. Each of us can repeat this verse as a part of his own biography: each can say, Thou has been a strength to me when I was poor; I never knew my poverty when thou did break the bread; we always thought it more than enough because the blessing so enlarged the morsel: thou has been a strength to me in my need and in my distress; when my father and my mother forsook me thou did take me up; thou did turn my tears into jewelry, thou did make my sorrows the beginnings of paeans and hymns of loud and perfect triumph: thou has been a refuge from the storm; when men could not bear me, tolerate me, see anything in me to touch their complacency; when the roof was broken through by the weighty rain, and when the flood put out the last spark of fire, I never felt the cold because thou was near me, and in the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delighted my soul. Thou has been a shadow from the heat; I could always fly to thee at noontide, and rest in thine almightiness as a flock gathers itself around the great tree, and tarries for a while during the sultry noontide. So long as men can say this, with all the passion of earnestness, with all the vividness of personal consciousness, the Bible smiles at every attempt to overthrow its supremacy, and waits to take in the last wanderer from its hospitable shelter.
"Remember, therefore, when reading passages that are surcharged with judgment, verses that are all lightning, Scriptures that are hot as hell with God's anger, that other Scriptures must be quoted if we would realize a completing view of God, as to his personality and government and purpose; and the last and uppermost verdict will be, "God is love." When God once begins to be gracious, turns away from judgment, and dawns upon the world's consciousness like a new morning, who can tell what he will do? He gives with both hands; he withholds nothing; he not only causes the storm to cease, he proceeds to positive hospitality, goodness, beneficence; he comes down to us to search into our need in all its extent and urgency, and crowns the day with infinite satisfactions."
Oh dear Father, that these words might be sweet to my soul, feeding my soul hunger as I ponder them throughout my busy day!
"We can only understand the highest, sweetest meaning of this chapter in proportion as we enter into the spirit of the one which precedes it . . . it is full of clouds, and darkness, and judgment. The Lord himself seems to have yielded to the spirit of contempt, and to have held in scorn even the work of his own fingers. The sarcasm of the Lord is intolerable. His laugh, who can stand? It is a laugh of judgment; it comes after certain moral experiments, and endeavours, and issues; it is not frivolity, it is a singular aspect of judgment, the only aspect which certain men in certain moods can understand; for they have withstood mercy, and compassion, and tears, and they have seen God himself in an attitude of supplication, in the posture of a supplicant and a beggar, and they have turned him from their heart-door.The only thing which he can now do is to laugh at their calamity, and mock when their fear comes. We have walked through the dark valley of the preceding chapter, and now we come to a calm after a storm, to a sweet and beauteous song, to an eventide that carries the burden of its waning light easily, and that shines upon us with mellowest, most comforting sympathy. Who could claim such a God as a refuge? An hour or two ago he thundered in the heavens as Almightiness alone can thunder; nothing was sacred to him that defied him by its bulk and power and pride; he turned the earth upside down and laughed at its impotent endeavours at rectification. Who can flee to him, and call him by all these tender names----a strength, a refuge, a shadow, a sanctuary?
"The very terribleness of God is a reason for putting our trust in him. Probably this view of the divine attributes has not always been sufficiently vivid to our spiritual consciousness. We have thought of God, and have become afraid; whereas when we hear him thundering, and see him scattering his arrows of lightning round about him, and behold him pouring contempt upon the mighty who have defied him, we should say, See! God is love. What does he strike? No little child, no patient woman, no broken heart, no face that is steeped in tears of contrition.On what does his fist fall? On arrogance, on haughtiness, on self-conceit, on self-completeness. He turns the proud away with an answer of scorn to their prayer of patronage. God is only terrible to evil. That is the reason why his terribleness should be an encouragement and an allurement to souls that know their sin and plead for pardon at the Cross.
"In the 4th verse we find what we may term a completing view of the divine personality and government. Say whether there is aught in poetry that streams from a fountain with this fluency:
Thou has been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall. (verse 4)
"Here we come upon language which the heart can understand, and which the heart responds to with personal gratitude. Sometimes the Scriptures leave us. They are like a great bird with infinite wings, flying away to the centers of light and the origin of glory, and we cannot follow them in their imperial infinite sweep; then they come down to us and flutter near our hearts, and speak or sing to us in words and tones we can comprehend. This verse is an instance in point. Every man who has had large experience of life can annotate this verse for himself; he needs no critic, no preacher, no orator, to help him into the innermost shrine and heart of this holy place. Each of us can repeat this verse as a part of his own biography: each can say, Thou has been a strength to me when I was poor; I never knew my poverty when thou did break the bread; we always thought it more than enough because the blessing so enlarged the morsel: thou has been a strength to me in my need and in my distress; when my father and my mother forsook me thou did take me up; thou did turn my tears into jewelry, thou did make my sorrows the beginnings of paeans and hymns of loud and perfect triumph: thou has been a refuge from the storm; when men could not bear me, tolerate me, see anything in me to touch their complacency; when the roof was broken through by the weighty rain, and when the flood put out the last spark of fire, I never felt the cold because thou was near me, and in the multitude of my thoughts within me thy comforts delighted my soul. Thou has been a shadow from the heat; I could always fly to thee at noontide, and rest in thine almightiness as a flock gathers itself around the great tree, and tarries for a while during the sultry noontide. So long as men can say this, with all the passion of earnestness, with all the vividness of personal consciousness, the Bible smiles at every attempt to overthrow its supremacy, and waits to take in the last wanderer from its hospitable shelter.
"Remember, therefore, when reading passages that are surcharged with judgment, verses that are all lightning, Scriptures that are hot as hell with God's anger, that other Scriptures must be quoted if we would realize a completing view of God, as to his personality and government and purpose; and the last and uppermost verdict will be, "God is love." When God once begins to be gracious, turns away from judgment, and dawns upon the world's consciousness like a new morning, who can tell what he will do? He gives with both hands; he withholds nothing; he not only causes the storm to cease, he proceeds to positive hospitality, goodness, beneficence; he comes down to us to search into our need in all its extent and urgency, and crowns the day with infinite satisfactions."
Oh dear Father, that these words might be sweet to my soul, feeding my soul hunger as I ponder them throughout my busy day!
Sunday, October 4, 2009
The Ministry of Grace
The following is an excerpt from The People's Bible, published in 1891. I love this book for its frank depiction of the Christian way and its unashamed praises of the loveliness of Christ:
Does not love give boldness, courage, hope, confidence? May not love go higher than any other inquirer or worshipper? Many there are on the first step of the throne; some a little higher up; but what figure is that, highest of all, white-clothed, with a face all light, with an eye kindled as the sun? The name of that highest, purest, sweetest worshiper is Love. It is therefore not strange that there would be in the Bible even a book steeped in love (The Song of Solomon), a soul sick of love, a heart without a dividing passion, a consecrated flame of affection. That such a book may be put to wrong uses is perfectly true; but what is there that may not be abused? What flower is there which a villain may not pluck and put upon his breast as a seal of honor? What bird is there which the cruelest hand many not kill? What word is there in all speech which a perverted imagination may not use for immoral or corrupting purposes?
We are right in thinking of Christ himself as the cause or origin of all this love. "Draw me, we will run after thee." There is a drawing force in life, a gracious impulse; not an impulse that thrusts men forward by eager violence, but that lures them, beckons them, draws them, by an unspeakable but most mighty magnetism. "No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him." : Observe the difference between the words to draw and to drive. It is the special function of love to attract, to fascinate, to shut out all other charms, and to fix the vision upon itself; and under that sweet compulsion men will dare any peril, face any darkness, traverse any distance, though the road be lined by ravenous beasts. "We love him because he first loved us." God does not ask from us an affection which he himself has not first felt: the love is not on our side, except as an answer; the love is on God's part, as origin, fountain, spring, inspiration. "God is love." If God were only "loving" he might be something else---a mixture, a composition of elements and characteristics: God is more than loving, or he is loving because he is love. We say of some men, They are not musical, they are music; they are not eloquent, they are eloquence. In the one case you would but describe a feature or a characteristic; in the other you indicate an essence, a vitality, an individualism bound up with the thing which is signified. This love may be resisted; this drawing may be put aside. We may say even to him who is chiefest among ten thousand and altogether lovely, We will not have thee to reign over us; we have made up our minds to turn the day into night, and the night into one horrible revelry, and we would not have they presence amongst our orgies and supper or feast of hell. Thou would plague us; the feast would turn to poison under they look or touch; so we banish thee, and enclose ourselves with evil spirits, that we may make night hideous. A tremendous power is thus given to man. He could not be man without it. Every man has the power to leave God, but no man has the right to do it. Am I asked what is this drawing? Hear the apostle when he puts the inquiry, "Despises thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long suffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leads thee to repentance?" Do not mercies break thee down in tears? Does not daily kindness penetrate thy obstinacy, and turn they stubbornness into prayer? This is an appeal which is manifest, and not merely sentimental. The appeal is founded upon the goodness of God, and the goodness of God is the common story of the day; it begins to be seen when the dawn flushes the awakening earth with earliest light; it grows with the growing sun; it burns visibly and comfortingly in the setting day; all night it breathes its whispered gospel upon the heart of man;--it is written on the front-door of the house; it is inscribed on every window-pane through which the light comes with its needed blessing;--it is in every loaf, turning it into sacramental bread; it is in the cup, stirring the contents into holy wine, as sacramental blood; --the goodness of God was at the birth of the child, rocked the cradle of the child, watched over the growing life of the child, and will never forsake the advancing life, unless indeed that life shall grieve the Spirit, and quench the Holy Ghost.
This is what is meant by it being "all of grace." It never occurred to the heart of man to seek God or to love God. Who can love omnipotence? Who can love omniscience; or who can love ubiquitousness, onipresence--a mere occupation of space? Love does not answer such ideas; there may be a bowing of the head, a closing of the eyes, a wondering of the imagination, a standing back as from an intolerable glory; but love does not know that sphere, love does not speak that language. "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son." : now we begin to feel a new emotion, there is upon our arm a human touch; there is mingling with our fellowship a human voice; there is a shrouded Deity, a concealed God. "Great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh." : Accompanying that revelation there is a drawing power, and having been once drawn we wish to be closer still; our cry every day is, Draw me: there is another height to be conquered, there is another land to be seen, there are other gardens growing with all the fulness and odour of the paradise of God: draw me, and I shall not see the danger; draw me, and I shall fly where I cannot walk. This is the ministry of grace; this is the ministry of providence; this is that spiritual ministry which operates without bound or time or space.
Does not love give boldness, courage, hope, confidence? May not love go higher than any other inquirer or worshipper? Many there are on the first step of the throne; some a little higher up; but what figure is that, highest of all, white-clothed, with a face all light, with an eye kindled as the sun? The name of that highest, purest, sweetest worshiper is Love. It is therefore not strange that there would be in the Bible even a book steeped in love (The Song of Solomon), a soul sick of love, a heart without a dividing passion, a consecrated flame of affection. That such a book may be put to wrong uses is perfectly true; but what is there that may not be abused? What flower is there which a villain may not pluck and put upon his breast as a seal of honor? What bird is there which the cruelest hand many not kill? What word is there in all speech which a perverted imagination may not use for immoral or corrupting purposes?
We are right in thinking of Christ himself as the cause or origin of all this love. "Draw me, we will run after thee." There is a drawing force in life, a gracious impulse; not an impulse that thrusts men forward by eager violence, but that lures them, beckons them, draws them, by an unspeakable but most mighty magnetism. "No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him." : Observe the difference between the words to draw and to drive. It is the special function of love to attract, to fascinate, to shut out all other charms, and to fix the vision upon itself; and under that sweet compulsion men will dare any peril, face any darkness, traverse any distance, though the road be lined by ravenous beasts. "We love him because he first loved us." God does not ask from us an affection which he himself has not first felt: the love is not on our side, except as an answer; the love is on God's part, as origin, fountain, spring, inspiration. "God is love." If God were only "loving" he might be something else---a mixture, a composition of elements and characteristics: God is more than loving, or he is loving because he is love. We say of some men, They are not musical, they are music; they are not eloquent, they are eloquence. In the one case you would but describe a feature or a characteristic; in the other you indicate an essence, a vitality, an individualism bound up with the thing which is signified. This love may be resisted; this drawing may be put aside. We may say even to him who is chiefest among ten thousand and altogether lovely, We will not have thee to reign over us; we have made up our minds to turn the day into night, and the night into one horrible revelry, and we would not have they presence amongst our orgies and supper or feast of hell. Thou would plague us; the feast would turn to poison under they look or touch; so we banish thee, and enclose ourselves with evil spirits, that we may make night hideous. A tremendous power is thus given to man. He could not be man without it. Every man has the power to leave God, but no man has the right to do it. Am I asked what is this drawing? Hear the apostle when he puts the inquiry, "Despises thou the riches of his goodness and forbearance and long suffering; not knowing that the goodness of God leads thee to repentance?" Do not mercies break thee down in tears? Does not daily kindness penetrate thy obstinacy, and turn they stubbornness into prayer? This is an appeal which is manifest, and not merely sentimental. The appeal is founded upon the goodness of God, and the goodness of God is the common story of the day; it begins to be seen when the dawn flushes the awakening earth with earliest light; it grows with the growing sun; it burns visibly and comfortingly in the setting day; all night it breathes its whispered gospel upon the heart of man;--it is written on the front-door of the house; it is inscribed on every window-pane through which the light comes with its needed blessing;--it is in every loaf, turning it into sacramental bread; it is in the cup, stirring the contents into holy wine, as sacramental blood; --the goodness of God was at the birth of the child, rocked the cradle of the child, watched over the growing life of the child, and will never forsake the advancing life, unless indeed that life shall grieve the Spirit, and quench the Holy Ghost.
This is what is meant by it being "all of grace." It never occurred to the heart of man to seek God or to love God. Who can love omnipotence? Who can love omniscience; or who can love ubiquitousness, onipresence--a mere occupation of space? Love does not answer such ideas; there may be a bowing of the head, a closing of the eyes, a wondering of the imagination, a standing back as from an intolerable glory; but love does not know that sphere, love does not speak that language. "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son." : now we begin to feel a new emotion, there is upon our arm a human touch; there is mingling with our fellowship a human voice; there is a shrouded Deity, a concealed God. "Great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesh." : Accompanying that revelation there is a drawing power, and having been once drawn we wish to be closer still; our cry every day is, Draw me: there is another height to be conquered, there is another land to be seen, there are other gardens growing with all the fulness and odour of the paradise of God: draw me, and I shall not see the danger; draw me, and I shall fly where I cannot walk. This is the ministry of grace; this is the ministry of providence; this is that spiritual ministry which operates without bound or time or space.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Narrow Road
What did Jesus mean when he spoke of the narrow road which leads to life? Perhaps it's the difference between being a believer and being a disciple. To assent intellectually to the truth of the gospel is one thing; to absorb the teachings of Christ, allowing them to transform us inwardly, is an altogether different experience. While we can stay on the low roads, stuck in the rut of the abcs of Christianity, there are joys, challenges and steady growth awaiting those who heed the call to "come up higher."
Years ago I came across the following list of Christlike Virtues. I can't think of a better way to take stock of one's spiritual maturity than to study this list with honesty of heart. The first time I did so I was jolted out of my spiritual complacency. I hadn't known, for instance, that the perversion of the virtue purity is puritanical. I wouldn't have guessed that the perversion of Biblical joy is frenzy.
As you go through the list, you're likely to find a few surprises. Don't lose heart, though, if you find yourself too often on the wrong side of the list! Growth takes time. It's all a part of the lifetime work of the Sanctification Process:
Years ago I came across the following list of Christlike Virtues. I can't think of a better way to take stock of one's spiritual maturity than to study this list with honesty of heart. The first time I did so I was jolted out of my spiritual complacency. I hadn't known, for instance, that the perversion of the virtue purity is puritanical. I wouldn't have guessed that the perversion of Biblical joy is frenzy.
As you go through the list, you're likely to find a few surprises. Don't lose heart, though, if you find yourself too often on the wrong side of the list! Growth takes time. It's all a part of the lifetime work of the Sanctification Process:
Christlike Virtues: James 3:17
Virtue Opposite Perversion
Pure impure puritanical
Peaceable fussy compromise
Gentle harsh unkind restraint
Entreatable unapproachable yes-man
Merciful merciless indulgent
Fruitful fruitless obsessed with numbers
Steadfast wavering inflexible, rigid
Honest dishonest brutal
Christlike Virtues: Galatians 5:22,23
Love hate possessiveness
Joy pain frenzy
Peace war neutrality
Longsuffering impatience lenience
Gentleness hardness softness
Goodness badness finicky nice
Faithfulness faithlessness legalism
Meekness arrogance weakness
Temperance undisciplined fleshy effort
" . . . giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance, to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are yours and abound, you will be neither barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For he who lacks these things is shortsighted, even to blindness, and has forgotten that he was cleansed from his old sins." (2 Peter 1, 5-9, TNB)
Monday, September 14, 2009
Godspeed
Well everyone, I've been wanting a new look for my blog and here it is at last! I'm so pleased with it that I decided I'd change the name as well.
Sweet Comfort is what I called the little monthly publication I did years ago for incarcerated teens. I wanted them to have something they could hold in their hands and linger over after their monthly Bible study--something which would speak to their hurting hearts about a loving God.
Because many of the teens receiving Sweet Comfort had only a 5th grade reading level, I purposely kept the wording simple. I scoured books and available materials online for inclusion in my little magazine, condensing them to more easily fit the attention span of my targeted audience. Sweet Comfort became a spiritual Reader's Digest of sorts, and oh how I loved piecing it together each month, anticipating each poem, story or article's potential for changing lives.
I didn't necessarily want all of the writing in SC to be authored by me, which is why I went on scavenger hunts searching for nuggets of wisdom and truth. I still don't care to have everything here derived from only one source, and so you'll find many writers represented here, each one sharing their unique perspective on things that matter. I like to think of this new, electronic version of Sweet Comfort as a sojourner's journal clumsily patched together over the years, smudged with the tears of one who has often wrestled with God. I think of it as one heart, imperfect and fumbling (yet in earnest) speaking out to other hearts of the mysteries, pitfalls and joys of the journey heavenward. (Once in a while a fellow pilgrim stumbles my way and writes a few lines in my journal, thus gifting me beyond measure.)
See, this is where the narrow road has led me, I will write. Perhaps it will lead you likewise, but probably not. God is so creative that He probably never leads two individuals in the same exact path. But the direction is the same. The hazards of the journey vary only in minor detail.
As I trudge my way ever farther from the strident godless society in which I dwell (oh, and sometimes isn't it true that my feet positively skip, for the joy that awaits my journey's end?), a verse takes up its chorus in my head:
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. (2 Cor.4:17,18.)
I wish you Godspeed for the journey,
Sweet Comfort is what I called the little monthly publication I did years ago for incarcerated teens. I wanted them to have something they could hold in their hands and linger over after their monthly Bible study--something which would speak to their hurting hearts about a loving God.
Because many of the teens receiving Sweet Comfort had only a 5th grade reading level, I purposely kept the wording simple. I scoured books and available materials online for inclusion in my little magazine, condensing them to more easily fit the attention span of my targeted audience. Sweet Comfort became a spiritual Reader's Digest of sorts, and oh how I loved piecing it together each month, anticipating each poem, story or article's potential for changing lives.
I didn't necessarily want all of the writing in SC to be authored by me, which is why I went on scavenger hunts searching for nuggets of wisdom and truth. I still don't care to have everything here derived from only one source, and so you'll find many writers represented here, each one sharing their unique perspective on things that matter. I like to think of this new, electronic version of Sweet Comfort as a sojourner's journal clumsily patched together over the years, smudged with the tears of one who has often wrestled with God. I think of it as one heart, imperfect and fumbling (yet in earnest) speaking out to other hearts of the mysteries, pitfalls and joys of the journey heavenward. (Once in a while a fellow pilgrim stumbles my way and writes a few lines in my journal, thus gifting me beyond measure.)
See, this is where the narrow road has led me, I will write. Perhaps it will lead you likewise, but probably not. God is so creative that He probably never leads two individuals in the same exact path. But the direction is the same. The hazards of the journey vary only in minor detail.
As I trudge my way ever farther from the strident godless society in which I dwell (oh, and sometimes isn't it true that my feet positively skip, for the joy that awaits my journey's end?), a verse takes up its chorus in my head:
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. (2 Cor.4:17,18.)
I wish you Godspeed for the journey,
Monday, August 17, 2009
Changes
I haven't been blogging here recently, but that's about to change. Within the next couple of weeks I should be getting a total blog makeover, complete with a name change. I've decided to change the name of my blog to Sweet Comfort.
Please come back and check out the new changes!
Please come back and check out the new changes!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
The Narrow Road
After much thought I've come to the conclusion that I must part ways with the Adventist system of beliefs.
Though I could write paragraphs explaining the whys of my decision, I think it best to simply state my intentions. It's never been my goal to argue anyone into anything, nor to convince others that what they believe is erroneous. What I must do for my soul's sake is to return to the roots of my faith, specifically the root teaching about grace.
It's been decades since I've had any true understanding of grace. I know why and when I got derailed; there is no point in going into all of that yet again. I don't believe that by renouncing Adventism I'm losing my salvation. I've arrived at this juncture in my life after much spiritual wrestling. Christ must be all: the beginning, the end and everything in between. As I've stated before, should He lead me back into Adventism I will gladly follow, but for now I find I can't even keep my eyes on Him with the shadow of Ellen White hovering over me like an angry teacher.
It's important to stress that I'm only letting go of Adventism, not Christianity. They are not one and the same. I need grace in my life. I need to feel the assurance of the love of my Saviour, and I've not been able to find that within the confines of Adventism.
I've no quarrel with those who remain in the Adventist church. I've nothing in my heart but affection for all my brothers and sisters in Christ, be they Adventist or not. There isn't time enough left in this world to be at odds with one another, to devour one another with angry dissension.
I'm doing the only thing I can do which is to set aside everything which hinders my walk with my Saviour. The law kills, but the Spirit gives life. This will be my focus then: to avoid whatever repels, while wholeheartedly embracing that which draws me closer to His side.
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