Honesty & Brokenness: Part 2

I fully agree with Tolstoy; “Everyone thinks of changing the world but no one thinks of changing himself.”


Initially, I touched on the influence of these virtues on the self; the results of introspection.  But navel gazing never got anyone anywhere.  However crucial it may be to begin change in the self, it is just as vital that those alterations exceed their first boundaries.  Recognizing failure with a willingness to change is not enough.  This kind of honest recognition in ourselves fosters the same in our view of people.  We often triumph at the recognition part, but fail in honesty.  As I said, we injure others constantly with calculated insults and cynical evaluations.  Their sins are apparent, but then so are ours.  Cynicism and judgment nourish pride.  Honesty and humility nurture love.  Sincere recognition of the self cultivates forbearance towards the lapses of others, for those lapses serve as a mirror.  Often when we find ourselves slighted by a friend, acquaintance, or even someone we have never met,  “Be the bigger person,” is the common advice.  I will argue against that.  When misjudged or insulted, we should remind ourselves, “I am the same insignificant size as my oppressor.”  Sin reveals our need for another righteousness, whether that be our sin or someone else’s.  Sin levels the playing field of all peoples. Christ redeems that field.  Fyodor Dostoevsky said is best, “To love someone means to see him as God intended him.” 

We often first see sin and failures, however scripture challenges us to see with the eyes of God.  When God gazes at His children, He is confronted with the righteousness of Christ.  When we gaze upon our brothers and sisters, we are to see the same.  When we gaze upon unbelievers, we are to be reminded of our condition apart from Christ’s merits, and humbly love them as Christ adored us.

Honesty and brokenness are merits outside of my grasp. So I will pray; Lord change how I love, and change how I see.  I trust God will grant them both in His grace. 

Honesty and Brokenness: Part 1

I will not presume that I know exactly what Jennifer had in mind when she wrote this.  However, since the day I first read it, it has been on my mind, heavy and convicting.  Everything about this statement screams rebellion to ideals conceived by a superficial and dying culture.  What the world perceives as thriving, is rotting in the eyes of God.  I often struggle with working out these two ideas in my life.  Brokenness is a never ending process, requiring an honest look at the self.  Admitting sin, and repenting from it.  Accepting weakness and relying on God in it.  Acknowledging our failures and trusting Christ’s righteousness.  Knowledge of the true character of the Maker produces humility.  To be constantly humbled by that knowledge, results in brokenness.  Brokenness fashions obedience. 


Breaking and obeying.  This is the daily work of the Christ follower.  We trangress our Lord and others in thought and thoughtless deeds; in calculated insults and cynical evaluations.  We stumble daily and yet are lifted by hope in sanctification.  As Michelangelo meticulously cracked and chipped the stone to reveal David, so God chips and cracks our imperfections, to reveal Christ.  We are in a constant state of being redeemed by our Lord.  ”For He wounds, but He also binds up; He shatters but His hands also heal,” Job 5:18.  God crushes the sin in us, though painful.  He cuts away the cancer, no matter how established.  Constant death to the self is it’s manifestation.  Emulating honesty and brokenness is a task.  So I will set out, unprepared, on this unknown path.  Traversing the mountains and valleys armed with the Spirit and grace.  If my savior bore a cross, so must I.  If my Lord required death to redeem the self in me, then I must die to that self, also. 


 

I Lost Count: Re-embarking

I do not think I have ventured a word in over a month.  I moved past the edge of failure, and leapt right off the cliff.  I allowed the day-to-day to cut in on my writing time, and as a result let my project slip.  So, here I am. Re-embarking.  My hope is that this will be the last time I start anew.  However, innumerable things can happen in a year, and I am not naive enough to think that some of those will not inhibit my “blogging”. 

I really, passionately dislike the word “blogging”.  Which is why I use parenthesis, because I can not imagine the thought of actually inserting it into a sentence in a serious manor.  It is just so… trendy.  Everyone blogs.  I have never liked doing anything that everyone does.  I never liked pink because that is what all girls wore.  I never owned a Furby (thank the Lord that was a short lived fad), because everyone wanted one.  I hated my high school’s dress code because at least 10 people would own the same American Eagle polo shirt, and miraculously all wear it on the same day.  I refused to listen to Indie rock because it was so painfully popular at Biola (To my delight, I have since caved on this resolution).  When everyone else was listening to Brittney Spears, I was serenaded by the Beatles, and Aerosmith.  I love antiques because they are one of a kind.

All my rambling is to say, I am hesitant to blog, because everyone does.  Most blogs are uninteresting, or overreaching. I would like to fall in the middle.  I could write eloquently, using five dollar words and perfect grammar.  But I won’t.  I’ll save that for my essays.  I will write my thoughts how they come.  Sometimes they are in broken pieces, but God brings them all together in the end. So bear with me.  If I start posting “myspacey” pictures of myself, or cheesy quotes about true love, a reality check would be much appreciated. 

I will close yet another pointless post about what I am going to do with this blog, and tomorrow I promise to actually begin the work.  I saw a beautiful thing today, and you will hear about it tomorrow.  Or today, since it is 12:38am.  First, I will rest my eyelids.  When I wake up, the tapping of the keys will continue.

Day… ?

Day 5 was January 25th….Today is February 2nd… so that makes today’s post Day 13.

I missed 8 days of writing.  That is borderline flunking this project (if it isn’t flunking already..).

Over my 8 day absence, I have been reading, listening to sermons, watching people, and examining myself.  All these things have brought me to this conclusion: I have to live life committed to people.  Not committed in the ball-and-chain sense, or the keeping-promises way.  I mean committed in a constant outpouring way.  Because that is a lot harder, and nothing worth having is easy.  But having what?  Since when is giving, having? 

It is having love.

It is being more concerned with the lives and daily workings of others.  Psychologists even agree living selflessly is healthier.  They say when people hit their mid-life crisis, they either grow out or sink in.  Grow out into other people, and helping them.  Or sink into themselves, and rot. 

Why wait until I’m old, fat, and less capable?

There are hundreds of verses (literally) I could type out to show the biblical reason for selflessness.  They would all point you back to the Cross.  How one man died, bearing the guilt of many.  How He died for people who hated Him, and set them free. 

But I am going to conclude with a quote instead.  Not because I think it more important, or a better reason (there is nothing more true than scripture), but because it is short and beautiful, and reading it is what brought all these things (sermons, literature, observations, people, verses) together.

For Attractive lips, speak words of kindness, For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people, For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry, For Beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day, For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone. People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others.
— Audrey Hepburn

Day 5.

I’m sick.  Soar throat, fever, chills, headache, disgusting feeling, sick. 

So bland days carry on, at least the virus mixes things up a tad bit, right? (That’s my frail attempt at optimism.)

Alright, I’ll try a little harder. 

This is the sunset in my town.  I took the photo with my iPhone, the quality isn’t the best (don’t judge).  But its the smallest things that brighten days, and for me, this was one of them.  It is amazing how nature can create a picture that photographs and oil paints can only endeavor to cast in a measly shadow of reality. God is great, and His creation majestic.

Day 4.

Oops.

I forgot.

Day 3.

It’s the first night in a long time that I’ll be in bed before 10:30.

And It’s the last night for a long time that I’ll be in bed before 10:30.

So, instead of carrying on, I’ll just say goodnight.

Sorry to all my followers (all 6 of you, who probably don’t even read this anyways), I know you are dissapointed.

Tomorrow is another day-

Day 2.

Well, I have 33 minutes left in Day 2 to write something profound….

29 minutes….

Alright, I’m throwing profound out the window.  When I initially imagined this blog, I had hoped it would be interesting.  Potentially inspiring. But here I am, two days in, and I am realizing that the day-to-day is less than inspiring, or interesting, it is mostly bland.

So, for now I will equate this blog to my 4th grade science project.  You know, the one where you plant seeds in little red Dixie cups and put them in the sunshine. Everyday rushing over to see if your plants had grown.  Remember how painful the first two weeks were? Nothing but dirt.  Brown, boring dirt. Then, finally , the tiny green sprout would push its way to the surface.  That is how I would like to think of this blog.  Interesting and inspiring are here, somewhere, they just haven’t made their way to the surface yet.  I am still in the first two painful weeks.  Still pushing through the dirt, to the sunshine.  After all, every flower (or in this case, a bean) has to go through a lot of dirt before it blooms. 

Until then, I’ll continue to shovel the dirt, and hope for tomorrow.  Maybe tomorrow will be just as boring… maybe it won’t be.