From. Through. To. HIM.

In the midst of a normal day, in a normal kitchen, a realization hits me.   I’m struck by the fact that the past few months have been pretty good.   To be sure, they’ve had their ups and downs, but there has been substantial progress in many ways.   I realize that it’s the most at ease I’ve felt for a long stretch of time in quite a while. The thought is met with a feeling of plateauing. I’m reminded of how much I don’t like that feeling. I’m reminded of difficult, struggling times in the recent past and the deep intimacy and dependence on the Lord that resulted. I find that I’m missing that. A sense of longing begins to build within me, a desire for that close friendship with Jesus once again.   It’s not that I’ve lost friendship or ceased to be learning from Him, but it is not the same.   I don’t turn to Him with a keen awareness of just how much I need Him every moment. The longing intertwines with dread. Memories of restless nights, anxi...

Spending more time in the Old Testament has proved to bring a greater understanding of the grace of God. As I read the words I’ve read before, that so often ring with rules and standards, my perspective begins to change as I begin to look for the character of God revealed in the structure He gives to His people. As I read Exodus and Leviticus, the theme that starts to emerge is one of holiness.   The holiness of God that demands a holy place and people becomes evident.       Further internalizing this truth begins to change the tone of the words that I am reading.   Where once commands seemed harsh and impersonal, now they seem tender and gracious. A holy God that can only exist within a holy environment could easily pull away from humanity.   How much easier it would be to leave the people of Israel to themselves.   But, He doesn’t. The laws and rules and standards and structure are all for the purpose of creating a space in which God...

It’s good Friday.   The words of Bonhoeffer ruminate in my head and the world around me vacillates between winter and spring. The day, the words, the surroundings speak of death. Those trailing flowers I pass by every day on my way to work have moved from tiny buds to full-fledged blooms and I’m reminded that death always brings about life. The words of a wise man, spoken years ago in a time of vision seeming to die, ring in my head again: “In order for something new to come, something has to die.” It speaks a hope over the death of dreams and a season that has made me aware of just how failing my flesh is.   The thoughts leave as quickly as they enter and I go about my day. I find myself skimming the newspaper handed to me by the man changing my oil.   My eyes are drawn to a section on chronic pain and I read about a newer perspective of doctors regarding this issue: the focus has shifted from attempting to take away all pain, to trying to re...