I have this friend who is obsessed with the idea of turning 21. I should say she was obsessed with it, because today, the day finally arrived. I was getting daily texts to remind me that she was excited about it, as the day neared the texts got longer and filled with more emotion. Its difficult to describe exactly what this experience was like, falling short of putting someone through the same routine reminders that I am also turning 21 soon.
I’m not sure why this bothered me so. Im glad she is now 21, because she can drive (which she could do at 16) drink alcohol and come paint-balling (both 18years) and get married. But I don’t get why we have an inbuilt desire to hit the big 2-1. Does it come from our countries affiliations with The USA who only permit various activities beyond that age? Or is it simply the number that lets people think they have escaped their teenage years far enough to now be called an adult, or a young man or woman at least.
It really puzzles me. Is being 21 as good as life gets? Do people who are 20, or 22 lack something that completes them as people? Or is being 21 simply the hurdle that trusts us into adulthood so that we can look onwards and upwards to a life of continuing responsibilities and gain? Whatever reason, we live in a time that idolizes this age. Those before it anticipate the experience, and those beyond it recount of the glory days.
But what I really think, and please excuse the preposition that commenced this sentence, is that we have lost the plot. Now, I know the Jewish Jesus probably celebrated his Bar Mitzvah at aged 13, and went to the weddings of his friends and family, but I think our culture is increasingly encouraging us to become more and more self-centred. The Bat (Bar) Mitzvah was not about getting presents and having speeches to praise the child but rather about acknowledging the acceptance of responsibility in following the Torah. Marriages I’m sure were also a celebration of the decision to knit two lives into one until the end, not about dressing up for a day of photos and expense. Sure, I’m obviously a little bitter towards marriage at the moment, only because of how ungodly it has become. When 52% of all marriages fail, I cant imagine that this is what Jesus had in mind. I can though, see where the wisdom from Pauls comes in, advising us that the single life is best. Godly marriages are hard to come by these days, the ones that do last seem to be about putting up with their life partner rather than living in love.
So, sure, I’m a little skeptical. I’m not 21, but I know if I start living for that special day then is just going to pass with the emptiness that all other birthdays pass with. I’m not married, but I know if I start living out of a desire for the Wedding rather than the Marriage, then I will end up just trying to get through life rather than counting each day a blessing. I do still find joy in things, but only things of God. And sadly these days I see little God in counting the days until I’m 21.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
A Poem That Lacks.
Sorry for my distinct lack of talent, but i think when you read it through a couple of times, you will catch what i was trying to throw...
How can I dare to feed my sweet tooth,
When there are those living without four walls.
How can I complain when a meals wrong,
When there are those who get no choice at all.
How can I groan with a long airport line,
When there are those who only know their homes.
How can I anger when reception drops out,
When there are those who know not of phones.
How can I rage amidst a traffic jam,
When there are those who have never left.
How can I dream of paradise and bliss,
When there are those left in the cleft.
How can we sit and watch the news,
When there are those who call that their lives.
How can you sit and think of anything else,
When Jenny sits in the gutter and cries.
How can I dare to feed my sweet tooth,
When there are those living without four walls.
How can I complain when a meals wrong,
When there are those who get no choice at all.
How can I groan with a long airport line,
When there are those who only know their homes.
How can I anger when reception drops out,
When there are those who know not of phones.
How can I rage amidst a traffic jam,
When there are those who have never left.
How can I dream of paradise and bliss,
When there are those left in the cleft.
How can we sit and watch the news,
When there are those who call that their lives.
How can you sit and think of anything else,
When Jenny sits in the gutter and cries.
A Life, To Where?
For once I know what waiting means. It does not involve twiddling my thumbs, but being devoted to whom God is calling me into. This life of mine has taught me nothing of true dependence. As far as I have been lead on, everything I want I can have, now. I need not take the road less traveled, for red carpet lines the adjacent voyage. A family of unconditional love lies beyond the seas. A man that wants every hole filled right now, lies within. The path I chose against promises so much instant fulfillment. The journey I have only now undertaken involves some weight. The ground is not only uneven and sharp, but the burden I labor aches me deep. Why on earth would I choose this way of life? Why on earth would someone ask this of me? Surely not a loving father. Surely a wretched master only interested in pain. But I believe the contrary. When the hard is endured, the future must be blessed. When persecution faces me, the gospel is more effective.
How long must I wait? Unquestionably I long for His Kingdom. Without hesitation I will grab on with two hands when I see him. There lies only one hurdle. One I have passed, but one that still so many stumble upon. Faith. How can I be selfless, and leave them behind? Surely I must claim responsibility for the moments I opted not to impact their eternity. I must not care of what they think of me if their opinions rule out the cross. Those that are open I must pursue with Christ. To those that are not, I must pray for a softening that is beyond my control. If they will believe once they see, let them see. Although I have faith without seeing, I must encourage those that require more to be convinced. He that doubted became one of the greatest evangelists of all time.
I want my want to encompass him. I want only of the Father. I desire all that is Him. I cannot afford to have a thought in my head that is not in His. I’m sick of only pursuing the side of Him that I want. I’m sick of wanting to only be good part of the time. To be a steward of heaven on earth, I must know of what His promises are, and what he is intending to do. I must set my eyes on what He is doing, and repent of the doubt that stems from what he is not doing. I must be more like Him, for any other aim fails.
I’m not the man I want to be.
I’m not the man I wish to be.
I’m not the man I ought to be,
But by the grace of God,
I’m not the man I used to be.
How long must I wait? Unquestionably I long for His Kingdom. Without hesitation I will grab on with two hands when I see him. There lies only one hurdle. One I have passed, but one that still so many stumble upon. Faith. How can I be selfless, and leave them behind? Surely I must claim responsibility for the moments I opted not to impact their eternity. I must not care of what they think of me if their opinions rule out the cross. Those that are open I must pursue with Christ. To those that are not, I must pray for a softening that is beyond my control. If they will believe once they see, let them see. Although I have faith without seeing, I must encourage those that require more to be convinced. He that doubted became one of the greatest evangelists of all time.
I want my want to encompass him. I want only of the Father. I desire all that is Him. I cannot afford to have a thought in my head that is not in His. I’m sick of only pursuing the side of Him that I want. I’m sick of wanting to only be good part of the time. To be a steward of heaven on earth, I must know of what His promises are, and what he is intending to do. I must set my eyes on what He is doing, and repent of the doubt that stems from what he is not doing. I must be more like Him, for any other aim fails.
I’m not the man I want to be.
I’m not the man I wish to be.
I’m not the man I ought to be,
But by the grace of God,
I’m not the man I used to be.
Unsettled
Right now my life is plagued. Plagued with caring too much for the things I deem important, and too little for the things I dismiss as not. Plagued with getting too upset when people don’t match my passion towards things, and then again for passing some off when I hear of their life goals. Both sadly and thankfully I know I cannot go on like this.
I cant remember the last time money was spent on me, either by myself or others, that I didn’t feel guilty in a way. Feel guilty that this money could not be being used and invested more wisely in a way to better mankind rather than to fulfil my desires, quench my wanting, or satisfy my tastebuds. Why should I pursue eating something pleasing to my sight and taste, when I know that indirectly people are dying as a result. Because I chose the $30 meal over the $10 special, tell me how I haven’t lost my integrity. Tell me that the extra $20 I could have saved could have sponsored a child for a month and kept them alive, could have saved them from starvation, and kept them from child slavery.
I’m sick of quoting lives as numbers. I’m sick of being so alone in this. How can no one care? Or if you care, how can you live knowing what is happening. Or maybe that’s the problem. Maybe the only difference between you and me right now is between hearing and knowing. You may have heard there is poverty out there, I know of it. You may have heard people are dying, but because I know them, they are real. I don’t need to know the stomach-bulging child on the TV to know them. I know that everyone is unique and everyone special in their own way, but I can no longer change the channel. I can no longer live a day free from agony. I cant see another add without aching. I know I cannot live this emptiness inside, and put on my outwardly front that everything is ok, because its not. I do not say this to boast, but rather to pour out my heart to a world that seems so dry. So void. So distant. So lost.
I know this passion is mine. I know others will have their own, and that I need to accept them knowing so. Regardless of whether or not they care about what I view as the ‘greater issues’. The atrocities of Congo, Zimbabwe, and Iraq. The apathy with which we live our lives here. The social construct with which we abide by. The greed of man. Though you may not care, and though I do, I pray we can work together. I pray for humility in the work I know I am being called to.
I will not cut my life short because this challenge is so daunting. I will not brand my body to show what I stand for, because if my colours are not shining brightly enough already from within, then I am far from the mark. I will not emptily criticise those who know no better. Rather I will love, and forgive. No more, and no less. For if that is not enough, then all else fails.
I cant remember the last time money was spent on me, either by myself or others, that I didn’t feel guilty in a way. Feel guilty that this money could not be being used and invested more wisely in a way to better mankind rather than to fulfil my desires, quench my wanting, or satisfy my tastebuds. Why should I pursue eating something pleasing to my sight and taste, when I know that indirectly people are dying as a result. Because I chose the $30 meal over the $10 special, tell me how I haven’t lost my integrity. Tell me that the extra $20 I could have saved could have sponsored a child for a month and kept them alive, could have saved them from starvation, and kept them from child slavery.
I’m sick of quoting lives as numbers. I’m sick of being so alone in this. How can no one care? Or if you care, how can you live knowing what is happening. Or maybe that’s the problem. Maybe the only difference between you and me right now is between hearing and knowing. You may have heard there is poverty out there, I know of it. You may have heard people are dying, but because I know them, they are real. I don’t need to know the stomach-bulging child on the TV to know them. I know that everyone is unique and everyone special in their own way, but I can no longer change the channel. I can no longer live a day free from agony. I cant see another add without aching. I know I cannot live this emptiness inside, and put on my outwardly front that everything is ok, because its not. I do not say this to boast, but rather to pour out my heart to a world that seems so dry. So void. So distant. So lost.
I know this passion is mine. I know others will have their own, and that I need to accept them knowing so. Regardless of whether or not they care about what I view as the ‘greater issues’. The atrocities of Congo, Zimbabwe, and Iraq. The apathy with which we live our lives here. The social construct with which we abide by. The greed of man. Though you may not care, and though I do, I pray we can work together. I pray for humility in the work I know I am being called to.
I will not cut my life short because this challenge is so daunting. I will not brand my body to show what I stand for, because if my colours are not shining brightly enough already from within, then I am far from the mark. I will not emptily criticise those who know no better. Rather I will love, and forgive. No more, and no less. For if that is not enough, then all else fails.
A Fool Like Me
I was having a conversation with my Dad today. Well, the first part was a conversation, a discussion, the second more of a teaching session, with me- the student- falling between concentration and a lack of interest. Still, I believe some interesting points were raised throughout.
He was saying that everyone has a God shaped hole in their heart. Sure, agreed. That people spend majority of their life trying to fill this void with everything but God, until there is essentially nothing left. Again, spot on. That everyone knows (regardless of how earnestly they feel the conviction) when he or she have committed some crime, or sinned in any manner. Here, I was lost.
I don’t know if I can agree with that last point. I gave the simple example of driving in the car along a road. The speed limit is 70km/h, which is the speed you are traveling at. You decide to change the radio station, looking down for a brief second. No crime committed, but in doing so, you missed the sign telling you that the road now has a 50km/h maximum. You continue along, thinking you are in the right, but are pulled over, doing 20km/h over the maximum. You have broken the law. You have sinned. Regardless of whether you knew or not, you must now answer to the authority. Ignorance is no trump card, and will not suffice here.
Sure, I understand that every sin is covered under Christ’s blood, but the problem arises when the above scenario is followed further. What about Hitler? He thought he was doing right. What about Muslims, who blow up building after building, who think they are doing right. Ok, murder is wrong in any sense, but I think the point I am trying to make now has some foundation. How can we be sure that our actions are of God? I don’t even mean the prophets and false teachers the Bible warns against, I mean in everyday life.
We live in a country that is so regulated I can barely step outside my door without committing some wrong. Crossing a road at a set of lights when the ‘red man’ is lit, is a sin. Leaving less than 1m when I park in front or behind is a crime. Men are allowed shirts off, women are not. We are allowed to consume alcohol in some areas, but not in others. I’m not aiming to get legalistic, nor suggesting we all need to, but with the futility I now feel toward doing what is right and correct, I am confused. I have been taught that everyone sins and fall short of Gods glory, meaning that each sin is viewed equal in its significance. Does that mean if something falls from my pocket unbeknown to me so I have accidentally now littered, that I am as evil as if I ravage a girl, or murder an old man.
I still think as I write. I still wrestle with this idea, for I know the conclusion I have come to so far is not it. I know there is more. More importantly, if this is not the question I am to answer in life, I can still take assurance in the fact regardless of my sin or crime, whether I knew it was committed or not, regardless of how big or small it was, I am still covered. Covered in an under a Christ who is so majestically stupendous to love a fool like me.
He was saying that everyone has a God shaped hole in their heart. Sure, agreed. That people spend majority of their life trying to fill this void with everything but God, until there is essentially nothing left. Again, spot on. That everyone knows (regardless of how earnestly they feel the conviction) when he or she have committed some crime, or sinned in any manner. Here, I was lost.
I don’t know if I can agree with that last point. I gave the simple example of driving in the car along a road. The speed limit is 70km/h, which is the speed you are traveling at. You decide to change the radio station, looking down for a brief second. No crime committed, but in doing so, you missed the sign telling you that the road now has a 50km/h maximum. You continue along, thinking you are in the right, but are pulled over, doing 20km/h over the maximum. You have broken the law. You have sinned. Regardless of whether you knew or not, you must now answer to the authority. Ignorance is no trump card, and will not suffice here.
Sure, I understand that every sin is covered under Christ’s blood, but the problem arises when the above scenario is followed further. What about Hitler? He thought he was doing right. What about Muslims, who blow up building after building, who think they are doing right. Ok, murder is wrong in any sense, but I think the point I am trying to make now has some foundation. How can we be sure that our actions are of God? I don’t even mean the prophets and false teachers the Bible warns against, I mean in everyday life.
We live in a country that is so regulated I can barely step outside my door without committing some wrong. Crossing a road at a set of lights when the ‘red man’ is lit, is a sin. Leaving less than 1m when I park in front or behind is a crime. Men are allowed shirts off, women are not. We are allowed to consume alcohol in some areas, but not in others. I’m not aiming to get legalistic, nor suggesting we all need to, but with the futility I now feel toward doing what is right and correct, I am confused. I have been taught that everyone sins and fall short of Gods glory, meaning that each sin is viewed equal in its significance. Does that mean if something falls from my pocket unbeknown to me so I have accidentally now littered, that I am as evil as if I ravage a girl, or murder an old man.
I still think as I write. I still wrestle with this idea, for I know the conclusion I have come to so far is not it. I know there is more. More importantly, if this is not the question I am to answer in life, I can still take assurance in the fact regardless of my sin or crime, whether I knew it was committed or not, regardless of how big or small it was, I am still covered. Covered in an under a Christ who is so majestically stupendous to love a fool like me.
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