There’s this new food site that I’m totally hooked on. It’s called foodgawker. I spent a lot of time the other day looking at all the things I want to make and think about putting it on pinterest. (If you don’t know what pinterest is, you probably: a. live under a rock b. think ponies are ugly or c. pee standing up.) It makes me sad because I want to experiment with so much cooking but I don’t have time and when I do, I don’t have the ingredients (some of them require fresh produce which does not stand a chance with my schedule.) 

I got myself a planter so I can grow my own basil and cilantro. I love basil and I love cilantro. This is a special self-watering planter so I don’t have to worry about leaving my little living things since I tend to be away for more than a week every once in a while. 

Cooking is just one more things I can’t do. It seems my schedule bars me from doing many things which I think will make me a freer person. 

This however, is an illusion. I know it, because when I do have time, I’m not always cooking or using it efficiently. 

In my last post, I talked about rising up to meet standards. 

This is noble, and I love it, and I think it should be done, but it can give rise to some incredibly big issues. The issue is that sometimes, there is so much to do, and so much to desire to do, that the task becomes too great. And all those built-up good intentions fall to the ground and no one (not even all the King’s men) can put it together again. 

And I get that way sometimes. I run and run and everything is great (runner’s high!), and then suddenly–it’s like a leg cramp or something–I double over and fall to the ground. And I lie there and moan and think about how difficult everything is. How every time I climb the mountain, there’s another one. And how this road is so difficult, and alienating, and blah, blah, blah…

I don’t think this is what God intended to happen. 

Reflecting on the Sermon on the Mount is always interesting to me. Just when I think Jesus is on my side, saying, “Yes, you can do all things…” and that such things like discipline and surrender and sacrifice are all within my grasp, I remember this sermon, and in particular, the part where Jesus says,  ”You have heard that it was said to people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.”

Me: Yeah. I can do that. No murdering. That’s not a big deal. 

“..but I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or a sister will be subject to judgment.”

This snaps me back into focus. Jesus continues to elevate the law to a degree which seems almost ridiculously unattainable. 

Except with a change of heart. 

Except with a change of mind. 

Except with a total collapse at His feet in acknowledgement that we can’t do this on our own. 

I know there are you control freaks out there who think you can manage life (and spirituality) by careful monitoring of variables and daily activities. Where the straight-and-narrow can be measured out with a ruler and some really strong brick. Or others who think Jesus surely must be using hyperbole. When He says angry, He just means… you know. Killing. 

What bars us from freedom and attaining to high spiritual goals isn’t a lack of personality, or willpower, or because Jesus doesn’t love us quite as much. It’s usually an illusion. An illusion that we are clinging to God, because in reality, we are self-sufficient and totally unwilling to let go of the world. It’s because of want. 

And what can change want?

What can give us a change of heart, and mind, and soul?

I’ll let you answer that. Today, the thought of froyo is keeping me alive, once again. 

I do, however, believe in character growth, discipline, and steadfastness. But all with an understanding that our foundation is Christ, and that we can achieve nothing outside of Him. This stuff is made of supernatural material. 

 

 

 

OK, fine, that was an odd title for a post. But you know, your face is odd, and I don’t bring that up (too many times) do I?

Disclaimer: I’m on a thin string. 

So yes. Insanity is ensuing. Usually, the kids start getting antsy at 3.5 weeks. Teachers start losing it at 4 weeks. It is currently 5.5 weeks into a no-break stretch and we’ve got 1 whole week left to go. Things are looking pretty hairy here in the Valley. At least I can count on blue skies and a desk next to a wall-length window. That is nice. I also have my “Work Music” playlist going in the background now. That is usually a Last Resort. It’s working. There’s not too much the gang of Handel, Holst, Vivaldi, and Satie can’t handle. Throw in some Beethoven, Puccini and a dash of Dvorak and Warlock and you’ve got a winner. I’m tempted to put giant headphones on my head, lock the doors, shut off the lights, and glare at people who knock. 

So it seems to me that God takes advantage of times when I am already down to make me do things that I think are pretty mean. The only reason I don’t consider it being like someone shining a magnifying glass at an ant’s back leg and laughing when it runs around is because… well, because I love Him and I know He’s not like that. 

But sometimes…

Take the Holy Spirit. I mean, I think He’s swell and all, but sometimes I wish He’d leave me alone. Let me indulge in peace. Recently, He’s informed me that maybe I should stop liking Jason Statham (I like him for his talent, ok?!) so much, especially since his movies feature blah blah blah blah blahblahblah blah that isn’t too edifying or even decent. (See, I edited out that whole section for you discretionary readers.) 

And when things like that happen, a series of things happen pretty consistently. This is how I respond:
(a) I say, “OK. I guess it doesn’t mean that much to me. Sure.”
(b) I proceed to think about life without x, y, z. It’s not that bad. In fact, maybe it’s better.
(c) I think, “Wait a minute. Aren’t I being legalistic here? Can I really do this myself? Isn’t this setting myself up for disaster? Hasn’t this happened before? I mean, can’t I exercise moderation?” 
(d) I get upset. Why does Jesus want to ruin my life?
(e) I “scripture-nuke” myself and say, Is not life more than food/movies/whatever? What worth is it if you gain the whole world…
(d) I get upset again. Because it seems like Jesus is saying, “Don’t you love me? I mean, you don’t have to, but if you loved me, you would.”
(e) I say, “Of course I love you.”
(f) I remember that Jesus is not a passive-aggressive lover.
(g) I heave a big sigh, feel the burden lift off, and laugh at my foolishness, and remember who Jesus really is. 
               (i)  the One who saved me from myself countless times.
               (ii) the One who loves little babies.
               (iii) the One who had a real smile and a real hug.
               (iv) the One who literally saved me from crashing and burning. 
               (iii) the One who knows every bit of my soul and loved me and died for me anyway.
(h) I say goodbye to Jason Statham. (Hehe. Or whatever else it might be.)

If I learned anything from my experiences in life the past few months, it’s that I am very stubborn, very rebellious, very skeptical of love, and a host of other things I’d rather not bare to the world right now. 

Anyway. Whatever the case is, there is nothing too precious to me above my love for God. I want to lose more and more of the ties that binds me to the things of this world. At this point, He’s got me wrapped up, bound up, and intertwined. Without Him, I am nothing.  

Back to ze work!