Sorrow as a Companion
FROM JAROD:
"We must learn to walk with sorrow as a companion. Maybe never a friend, but a companion."
So said Dr. Steve Horst upon our graduation, Dave.
Today I am walking with my old familiar companion Sorrow. My recent experiences have transformed me, and taught me a few lessons.
We can never put our finger on God, get a grip on Him, peg Him, define or explain Him. He is the great mysterious wind that carries us where He pleases. He is the water that slips through tight grips. He is a master writer, laying wondrous plots for our lives. To this God I lower my head and whisper.... alleluia.
God is a Father who loves his children. I've worked with lots of children this summer, and loved them so much that I wept when they left. I touch the fringes of God's love for me in such things. He does not want me to be a busy little bee, buzzing around the whole world pollinating the Christian religion. I think that he is quite cramped and frustrated when we approach relationships with an evangelizing agenda. This time it was different. I said, "I come to you with empty hands. I will only love you for who you are." And I did. And God brought redemption to us.
Dave, here are a few things I believe, either for the first time or with new conviction:
-A person can plan his own path, but the Lord determines his steps.
-We must follow our heart...it will lead us to freedom...and God is leading it if we let him.
-Pain is part of the price. True relationships marry love and pain. It is worth it, though it hurts. Heartache reminds us that we can possess nothing in this life, but yet have everything with joy. Our deepest self longs for a deeper reality, where the record will be set straight and we can find true rest for our spirits. We live with that day in mind, yet walk through the now.
Here's a little battle cry that I've been living by since Jr. High....
"We boldly charge forth into each new day, not knowing if it will be our last, or merely our greatest!"
Feeling the Power of Good
Jarod,
Once again I am reminded of the power of Good. At times it seems to sneak up on you. Its' subtle power introdueces itself like a whisper in the wind. In two seconds an arm may be broken, but it takes two months of care for it to be restored. In several hours a twisted soul may be born into this world, but the straightening of his nature takes nearly a lifetime. What is quickly destroyed by our immoral actions must take time to heal by the power of good. This causes me to respect its power, and its lengthy process. The power of Good was involves pain, often a consistent, underlying pain that softly keeps us moving. For whatever reason, it is healing and goodness that become overwhelmingly stronger in their constant movement forward. They are unstoppable, and they evidence God's care over his creation.
Good is a word of confession spoken to one you have injured.
Good is the sharp voice of correction to a soul going astray.
Good is the voluntary broken heart, whose prayers call God to action.
Good is the friend who continues to stand by his brother, for that alone may be the way through which God heals a broken soul.
The destruction that comes quickly tears at our tenderness. So I suppose that healing and tenderness must go hand in hand. For sometimes God sees fit not to protect us from that which will tear us. Instead He would have us experience the subtle, healing power of Good.
Again I am fascinated by its quiet nature. I picture crops growing. It is so slow that the human eye cannot even perceive their growth. In all of it I find the virture: patience. Yes, God has been teaching me about patience this summer as I float almost directionlessly from one vision to the next. When will His call be more clear? When will He act in a way that lets me know I'm still part of His plan? When will I grow past this state of immaturity that I have lingered in for too long and be empowered for His greater purpose?
I know that in time these questions will find their resolution. My fascination with time is also my frustration.
Anxiously waiting,
Dave
