It occurs to me that there are two ways to read the word “practice,” as written by Paul and Timothy in the book of Philippians:

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Phil. 4:4-9)”

First, there is the surface. To “put it into practice,” literally means “apply it.” Simple.  Just do it. Here’s how to live: take what we have told you today, and Get. It. Done.

Another way to read it is with the more colloquial, modern sense of the word. To repeat an exercise over and over and over again until it is second nature; do it until you can do it without thinking. Play the guitar until you can play it in your sleep.  Plane wooden boards flat until you can do it swiftly and without hesitation.

The first definition is what we should strive for in theory. Love each other as yourselves. Walk humbly before the Lord. Be merciful in all things. Do these things, and the Lord will be with you.

In practice (see what I did there?), the struggles to overcome my humanity and chains to imperfection are much harder to overcome.  So I must practice these skills of the heart and soul to surmount my shortcomings. Repeat kindness as a skill until I am good at it. Worship until I can do it without hesitating. Forgive a slight, and if I cannot, try again until I get it right.

I am still very new to this, and I had never prayed regularly before (occasionally, at best). I am still clumsy and slow to find the words to express my heart. There is no wrong way to pray to God if you do it in Christ’s name, but the point is that only through regular practice will I become more comfortable with prayer. For me, there must be diligence involved. Try it, and then try it again. Even in the act of opening my heart to God there must be practice; it won’t do to simply say words without a spirit-filled heart of faith. And sometimes that is hard. I am humbly imperfect, and thankful to be so.

So when I write that I am a practicing Christian, I mean it in both ways.

I was moved by a new song this morning.  Well, it’s not really all that new.  It’s just new to me.

The song is “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)” by Hillsong United off their 2013 album Zion.

The lyrics of this song are truly inspired. So, too, is the melody. I wish I’d known the song sooner. Many of these lyrics are sweet and moving, but I was especially touched by the bridge, which reduced me to a pool of tears:

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

That first line called to me deeply. I long in my heart to trust.  To trust God’s plan, to trust my fellows on this earth, to trust that I am safe in God’s arms. The idea of trusting wholly, with my arms wide open, and without borders, inspires me. Being closed off to trust and love has been putting torque on my heart that I didn’t even recognize. It has been there so long that I have simply learned to live with it, and I normalized it. Even in the past, when I have trusted others, I believe that trust had limits. I am ashamed to admit that I probably only trusted when it was convenient, or easy. I don’t want to live that way anymore.

The second two lines together are a rejoiceful resignation to God’s will and a trustful faith. To say simply that I will go where called, and by my faith in his grace my feet will find purchase calls to mind the story of Peter and Jesus walking on the water:

“‘Lord, if it’s you,’ Peter replied, ‘tell me to come to you on the water.’
‘Come,’ he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!”
Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him…” (Matthew 14:28-31)

The story teaches me two things.  First, if I have faith and trust in the Lord, all things are possible. Secondly, I know that even though I am human and I will falter, the Lord will be there to grab hold of my hand should I waver.

I want very much to give such trust completely, both to the Lord and to my fellows.

This week has been a trial in my life, but it has also been a time of great joy and relief. I have found it in my heart to welcome God, and his son Jesus Christ, into my life. It was remarkably easy, as though I had been preparing for that moment my whole life, and I needed only to give myself over to His love. It came as though I had been drowning in the dark sea, and for the first time I broke the surface of the water to breathe. It came as though it was supposed to happen. It felt like something I should have known all along.

It felt as though it was God’s plan for me. I trust that.

This verse from Romans encompasses both how I feel at this moment, and how I want to feel every day for the rest of my life: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

Prayer:

Heavenly Father, now is a time for deep trust. I ask that you guide me with your sovereign hand, and I know that as I lean on you, you will not falter.

These verses spoke to me deeply when I read them this morning, and I think they summarize some of the themes of this week.

“For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:3-8)

Two of my deepest flaws, as I’ve mentioned before, are pride and arrogance. That is why verse three caught my eye to begin with. I originally thought that humility had to come before faith, and so I humbled myself.  I still believe that’s true. But I wonder now if, as Paul said, humility also comes with faith. In order to accept God into my heart, I had to first be humbled. Then, when God entered my heart, I was humbled by my faith in him. It’s a beautiful thought.

In verses four and five, Paul speaks eloquently about community. He says we are all different, and yet we are all united under Christ. We are many and we all serve each other, and serve the Lord as one. Another struggle in my own life is accepting myself as part of a community, and accepting a community as part of myself. I must step out of that shadow, and find a community of light, as is part of God’s plan for me. That community will be made more whole by me, and I will be made more whole by it, and together we can serve the Lord better for each other.

Verses six through eight are a call to action, and they offer me hopeful encouragement. Though I am humble before God, I also yearn to find my gifts, and discover how to use them to seek and serve Him. Is mine simply to love? To serve? to lead by example?

Over the last week, I have felt compelled to write. I have always been a writer in my heart. When I was young, and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I “grew up,” I would usually say that I wanted to write books. Written words have always held magic for me. That’s why this space exists. Perhaps there are readers, and perhaps not. It’s equally likely that I am the only person that will ever read this, and that’s okay. I’m writing it for myself and God, and to myself and God. If that is the extent of the audience, then by his grace that is the greatest audience that anyone could ever hope for.

But still, I wonder if my words are impelled by something greater? Was I inspired by something low and human, like my own vanity? Or is something greater driving me? Is this my service? Time will tell, and I will continue to seek. And, as long as I find myself compelled to do so, I will continue to write.

Prayer:

Father above us, Father among us, Father in our hearts, I ask that you untie my restraints and inhibitions with your love, that I may find a place in a community of those who love You even more deeply than myself, so that we may worship you together, and lead each other by example.

Be compelled!

We must be alight with life, and mindful to find joy every moment, because every breath we draw is a gift.

Not every week, not every day, not every hour.

Every single moment.

Breathe with gratitude and with a joyful heart, and do not be afraid. Be compelled.

Prayer:

Lord, show me my own heart, and compel me to strive to grasp this gift of life with every single breath.

Anger is such a quick path to emotion, and it can be intoxicating. I myself have been quicker to anger than to patience and understanding, and in particular that anger is often directed towards strangers. It can be addictive. It can feel cathartic to rage and rail against someone that cut you off in traffic, or someone who showed you a moment of rudeness. But the person I hurt the most with my quick anger is myself. Myself and my Lord.

Anger can also be a habit. We swear in unbecoming language, we seethe, we grit our teeth against each other and against the world, and we do it so often that it becomes our first natural reaction to minuscule hardships. I might snap at the quickest interruption in my day. Any perceived slight becomes a source of indignation at the least, and rage at the worst. Frustration begets frustration. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. (Thank you, Yoda.)

I have been guilty of feeling right and righteous for my own personal reasons, instead of being upstanding and righteous before God. I have thought that my intelligence and discipline gave me the right to feel anger towards my fellows. And that anger was a cloak pulled over my heart; perhaps I thought it was a shroud protecting me from the world, but in the end it was keeping me from my own life. Two verses come to mind:

“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.” (James 1:19-20)

and also:

“Judge not, that ye be not judged.” (Matthew 7:1)

There are times when anger is unavoidable. I am human, and I have my limits. But I believe that if I am aware of my own limitations, and know that every other human is likewise limited, I will be quicker to listen and to forgive than I will be to hastily judge in outrage. Taking every slight personally can only lead to darkening my heart. Instead, I will endeavor to stay my tongue and accept that slights by those who cross my path are inevitable, as are my own mistakes in their own lives. I will renew my commitment to patience every time I flash to anger without true cause. Would I want to be treated with that same anger, if the fault were mine? Of course not.

The answer is that simple.

God’s forgiveness is a beacon, and an example which I should strive to reflect. I want my soul to be on fire, but with love, and not with anger. In a life where every moment is precious, I have time only for joy, and no time at all for misplaced rage.

One of the things that has been most difficult for me to reconcile spiritually is to accept that I am worthy of the love and forgiveness freely given to me by God and Christ. When I was reading a bit, I came across this, from the book of Ephesians, which made it a little more clear:

“But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved . . . For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” (Ephesians 2:4-5,10)

Because I have been blind for so much of my life, it is easy to become dejected and ashamed.  I cannot even begin to count my weaknesses, sins, and ill pursuits. I am laid low and humbled. But, still, God is my deliverer. Christ is my great champion. In spite of my flawed humanity, I am beloved in ways I can hardly grasp with my feeble mind.

That is grace.

The aforementioned verse in Ephesians gives me some insight I hadn’t considered before, at least not in depth. By my reading, I am worthy simply by virtue of being God’s own creation.  If I rethink the language I use to consider my own part within God’s plan, the answer is made clear to me. It is simple to think about being created by God. It is simple to think about being created in Christ.

What I had never really thought about, though, was being created for God, and his will. My task is already laid out in front of me–and has been since I was envisioned–and I only need to seek God’s guidance to find it. Because of God’s plan for me, and his love, I have only to ask to be made worthy, because the best version of the life he has planned for me is worthy of His love.  Through Christ’s sacrifice and his own forgiveness, God has given me everything we need to find my worth in His eyes.

Natalie Grant also inspired me to understand my worthiness with her song “Clean.”

There’s nothing too dirty,
that you can’t make worthy,
you wash me in mercy,
I am clean.

Oh, I am coming alive
with joy and destiny
’cause you’re restoring me
piece by piece.
(Natalie Grant)

That foremost stanza of the refrain is comforting to me. Even though my failures and limitations are deep-rooted, and I struggle with them mightily, it’s a great comfort to remember that through God’s infinite power, and Christ’s sacrifice, forgiveness and worthiness are within my grasp.  God’s mercy washes us clean.

I’d like to end this post by trying to capture my feelings in a poem.  This is my first attempt at spiritual verse, so please be gentle:

Like a grain of sand on an infinite beach
I could feel alone or unworthy,
but I am awash with the warm light of your love.
For though I am but a single, tiny stone,
Your radiating glow is my home.

During the dark night, when the cool tide rolls in,
I may feel cold and bewildered.
“Where have you gone?
Why am I forsaken?” I might cry
for I am but a low grain,
and I might forget that you are there.
You watch me, even then,
when you are furthest from my mind.

That cold tide is a boon, I think,
For when day returns, and I feel the warmth again,
my gratitude is doubled and renewed;
You shine on me even though I doubted you.

Prayer of the morning:

Father above us, Father among us, Father in our hearts, Your grace is our salvation, and our peace in times of unrest.  We are strengthened in the light of your mercy.

“Let your eyes look straight ahead;
fix your gaze directly before you.” (Proverbs 4:25)

I find that I am losing the taste for many of the distractions that I used to think made me happy.  In particular, I’ve felt like a slave to screen-based devices.

I have struggled with internet addiction for years. Having a powerful computer in my pocket that can connect to the internet anywhere in the world, and fetch for me any type of entertainment or information in the world, makes me feel smarter than I really am.  I think that’s part of the appeal of our “smart” phones: they make us feel powerful. We brim with the knowledge that we can access, instead of seeking to broaden the knowledge within our own limited minds. Hardly anyone even bothers to say “I don’t know,” these days, because they can just look up an answer in a moment, regurgitate it, and then forget about it. New knowledge hardly sets down on the surface of our minds, and then is swept away by the incoming tide of new knowledge.

Why bother seeking knowledge and understanding of the world around us when we can find any information we seek at a moment’s notice?

When our curiosity is so easily satisfied, I wonder if its depth becomes limited? When we seek knowledge about a subject with our heart’s curiosity, and we dedicate ourselves to understanding a subject fully, we explore that subject in the context of the world, and in our minds. This is how true understanding is gained. We study, we internalize, we experiment and test. In the context of this writing, I’m talking about deepening our relationship with God, but the principle holds true for all subjects: biology, music, literature, et cetera.

Said another way: is our reliance on the internet impeding our ability to understand subjects more fully?

These past few days, when I pick up my phone to open Twitter or Reddit or check the box scores from last night’s basketball games, I touch them for a moment before realizing that they will not satisfy me.  Then I put the phone down. It’s a bit of a relief, actually.  Right now, those things don’t matter to me, perhaps because in a broader context, they don’t matter at all.  (Of course, I’m sure that once the playoffs start, those box scores will be of great social and political import.)

I do remember the last time I truly sought knowledge and understanding, and committed myself to it–and I can remember the time before that as well.  The former started this week, when I picked up the Book, and began to internalize some of the lessons.  My life is changed, because it has changed the way I see the world, and my own place in it. The time before that was about six years ago, when I picked up a different book, one about woodworking, and was inspired by the text and by the meaning behind it. That changed my life as well, because it changed my worldview and opened my mind to an aspect of the discipline I had never even considered.

In both of those cases, I sought depth of knowledge, and I took my time to understand and adopt the knowledge. I used it to foster growth within myself, and that deep understanding changed my life, both spirit and secular.

Prayer for the evening:

Lord, please steady my gaze away from distractions that would seek to divert my path from the plan you have for me.

I am thankful for today. It was early, not yet 5:00 am, and my eyes were heavy when I started this post. But I woke up with some thoughts in my head, and I wanted to get them started before I went to work.

I went to bed last night after a very long walk, and also after reading the first few chapters of Proverbs, and I rose this morning reflective upon the idea of respect. There are some passages I want to call out, and several thoughts I’d like to share.

So far, one of the prevailing themes of my writing in this space is the folly of pride and arrogance.  Specifically, my pride and arrogance. In the past, I have allowed them to get the better of me–and I am sure that I will fall prey to them in the future. I think they are my greatest weakness. (My flaws are many, though, so it’s difficult to rank them.) Over the years, that pride and arrogance had closed me off from the world.  I’ve said that before.  What I haven’t said before is that, much to my dismay, they also at times made my spirit spiteful, even mean.  Worst, they begat disrespect.

When I’ve looked inwardly at my failures this week, I’ve discovered that I have held little respect for my fellow man.  Elders, parents, peers, youths, even people I pass on the street have been bystanders and extras in my own life. Even when I understood intellectually that they are human, and they are alive, and they therefore deserve respect just as much as myself, I did not have that respect in my mind and heart.  It was just words. “I respect you.” It carried little weight in my soul.

The idea that I had never considered before, and that I realize now, is that humility and respect are related. To respect God is to be humble before him, and I cannot have the former without the latter.

It is the same with my fellows on this earth.  Men, women, and children of all colors and nations are equally low alongside me, and equally exalted. Understanding that, and being humble before both God and my fellows on this earth, is the first step to having respect for both in my heart.

Romans 12:10 teaches to “Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.” In order to respect each other, we must first lay ourselves lower than our peers, and to consider them our betters.

It is the same with our earth and its other, non-human inhabitants.  I must see this home as a gift given freely, and not as repayment I have earned. Our fortune is great, and every creature on this earth, as well as the ecosystem itself, deserves our respect.  We are all laid low in the eyes of God, and even if we are the greatest among the creatures in his eyes, we have no right to treat the gifts given as though they are secular and made by human hands.

For further understanding, I’d like to turn to a neologism that is secular, and one for which the definition is made up.  John Koenig, a writer whose gift I greatly respect, created the website The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. There, he creates words and defines them. The words may not be real in a conventional sense, but they can still be very true.  This one is my favorite, and it is very relevant to my thoughts.

“Sonder:  n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.”

We are all together.  We are all equally complicated and wonderful, and this life on this world is a sprawling network of connectivity.  If we respect each other as equals, and pay forward humility and honor to each other, that rising tide will raise all ships.

In the past, I’ve neglected humility. I could say the words “all men are created equal,” but until recently, because of my arrogance, what that meant in my heart was that I was greater than or equal to anyone I met. Until someone proved that they were my equal, I did not consider them worthy of respect. I will strive every day to switch that around, and consider myself to be humbled next to my fellows, just as I am humbled before the Lord. Then, and only then, will I be capable of respecting them.

Prayer in my heart at the moment:

Father above us, Father among us, Father in our hearts, help us to love each other above our own selves. Make me humble that I might see that we are all equals in your eyes, and that we are all in your service.

Until this week, if I woke up before my alarm went off, I would just lay there and drift in and out of sleep until I was out of time.

Today, I woke up an hour early, and instead of wishing for more sleep, I was thankful for the extra time to write and explore some thoughts.  But, when I sat down at a keyboard to put those thoughts to words, I struggled.  That thought was not yet fully formed.  It is important, so I’ll get back to it later.

Once I’d resigned myself to putting that thought on the back burner to simmer, I decided to come to work early. My morning routine only takes about fifteen minutes (there’s a lot of preparation the night before), and after that I hit the road.

Then I became inspired.  Honestly, deeply inspired. I stepped outside to a light drizzle, and I felt gratitude for the cool, cleansing rain. I started my car, and my radio said “Bluetooth audio,” so I obliged by selecting my favorite song of the moment, Third Day’s “Soul on Fire.” I’ve played that song many times over the course of this week; I like how it sounds, and it lifts my heart.  Today was different, though.  Today on the way to work marked the first time I’ve ever sung that song out loud. In truth, it marked the first time I can remember singing a song of worship by myself in earnest. The lyrics are simple, but true.  They are a proclamation of intent, but also a request.

God, I’m running for Your heart
I’m running for Your heart
‘Til I am a soul on fire
Lord, I’m longing for Your ways
I’m waiting for the day
When I am a soul on fire
‘Til I am a soul on fire

(Tai Anderson / Brenton Brown / David Carr / Mark Lee / Matt Maher / Mac Powell)

I’ve written previously that I’ve felt the Holy Spirit’s touch before, when singing a sacred hymn or song of worship in a choir. The moment had to be right, and a chord and lyric had to strike me in the right way.  This was different.  It’s a good rock song, to be sure; it’s got a great sound.  But what happened to me on the way to work cannot simply be explained by saying that I enjoy the song.

Because today, that song cracked my heart wide open.  The first tear that rolled down my cheek surprised me.  The chill that spilled over my skin lit me up. In the span of thirty seconds, I turned into a puddle. Relief and inspiration washed over me. I was rejoiceful and grateful in a way that I’ve heard other people describe, but can’t remember ever feeling. I cried tears of joy for miles.

What was holding me back from feeling this joy before? Myself, and myself alone. I arrogantly considered it to be false, or silly. I thought that seeking such feelings was unnecessary to my life. The only word that adequately describes my previous self is “stupid.”

The moment the first tear fell, I knew that the lyrics had inspired me to seek God truly in my heart, and that singing them with my voice and heart had given me the humility needed to break my last shield of doubt and mistrust. The relief I feel this morning is my load being lightened. It is also the relief of knowing that I am actually capable of practicing faith. One of my great fears, and one of the things that had been holding me back from truly accepting God’s presence in my life, was a nagging dread that I might be incapable of giving myself over. Today, that fear is extinguished. I am delighted!

Verse of the morning:  James 4:6 Prov. 3:34

But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:
“God opposes the proud
    but shows favor to the humble.”

Prayer of the morning: Father above us, Father among us, Father in our hearts, today is a day of blessings. I am humbled by grace, and grateful for the feeling of joy You have poured into me.  Thank you.

Psalm 135:15-20

“The idols of the nations are silver and gold,
and made by human hands.
They have mouths, but do not speak;
eyes, but cannot see.
They have ears, but do not hear
nor is there breath in their mouths.
All those who make them will be like them
and so will all those who trust in them.”

When I was young, and I learned about false idols in the context of Christianity, I always envisioned a golden ox. Or perhaps when I learned about eastern thought, I thought of a fat, little round-bellied statue.  My juvenile self thought about people bowing to these statues, and about God being angry and jealous because the worshipers had created their own representation of a god to worship. I never considered that an idol could take a form other than a statue or an altar.

Today, I know the reality is far more nefarious.  We all create our own false idols, and they can take many forms. One of my greatest failings has been materialism.  I don’t actually believe that material goods have any power.  But it is one thing to say that I understand that material goods are not a god, and another thing entirely to stop worshiping them with my actions. I have pursued them, I have felt envy for them, and I have lusted after them. I have blindly tried to heal my heart and soul by filling the void I felt with goods, instead of filling it with Good.  The problem with that, of course, is that by filling my soul with material goods, my soul became nothing but a collection of material goods.  Just as those things have no soul, and no breath of life, so neither did my heart.

I have hoarded and protected them as though they could give me meaning.  I have clung to them as though keeping them close would keep me warm.  But there was no depth, and no warmth.  I have chased them, and I have neglected other aspects of my life to acquire them, but my life will not be an hour longer because of them.

We live in a culture that makes impossible a total rejection of consumerism. We must buy things occasionally. But I have blurred the line between things that I wanted and things that I needed, and this is a source of great shame for me.

Partly because I had been filling my holes with meaningless assets and holdings, I did not have any room in my soul for God.  This was the height of stupidity.  When I was thumbing through some Psalms two nights ago, the above stanza of Psalm 135 caught my eye, and planted the seeds of this writing. I had never considered that my materialism could be false idolatry, nor had I considered that my “worship” of these things could harden my soul, making me as lifeless as my possessions.  They have no magic, and neither did I. Clinging to them with such fervor also closed me off to the world, I think.

I was raised in a house of collectors and hoarding.  My parents were similarly raised by people who did the same. Though it’s no excuse, it likewise became my nature to collect and hoard. This was blind, and it was blinding.

For me, it is a great relief to accept that these possessions cannot ever bring me true joy. Once I accept that, I can also accept that I am not tied to those things, and that losing or giving them away will cost me nothing. They are a sunk cost on my pocket, and I cannot get back the time, money, or effort spent in acquiring them. But they are weighing my soul down, so perhaps loosing myself from their grip will give me some much needed buoyancy and lightness. Ridding my soul of material things will make room for a real thing.

Prayer of the afternoon:

Father above us, Father among us, Father in our hearts, you are the chain-breaker. Please guide me to freedom from my false idols and material possessions, and help me to put my soul’s dedication to your love first, second, and third.