I'm taking a break from blogging from the usual pamphlet that I was using throughout lent and beyond, mainly because I am absolutely enthralled with CS Lewis and his ideas presented in "The Problem of Pain". In this book, Lewis tackles the issue of the existence of pain in our world, building a logical argument from scratch, and based on certain Christian fundamentals (such as Divine Omnipotence and Divine Goodness, also The Fall). I'd like to share a passage that struck me with a great deal of clarity. I particularly appreciate the metaphor near the end. :)
My own experience is something like this. I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow or a bit of work that tickles my vanity today, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threatens us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. At first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happinesses look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real treasure is Christ. And perhaps, by God's grace, I succeed, and for a day or two become a creature consciously dependent on God and drawing its strength from the right sources. But the moment the threat is withdrawn, my whole nature leaps back to the toys: I am even anxious, God forgive me, to banish from my mind the only thing that supported me under the threat because it is now associated with the misery of those few days. Thus the terrible necessity of tribulation is only too clear. God has had me for but forty-eight hours and then only by dint of taking everything else away from me. Let Him but sheathe that sword for a moment and I behave like a puppy when the hated bath is over--I shake myself as dry as I can and race off to reacquire my comfortable dirtiness, if not in the nearest manure heap, at least in the nearest flower bed. And that is why tribulations cannot cease until God either sees us remade or sees that our remaking is now hopeless.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Tuesday, Week 5 - Learning through Suffering
"Although he was Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; and having been made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him" (Hebrews 5:8-9).
Suffering in itself has no value. It is what we do with our suffering that makes the difference. The ministry of Jesus attests to this fact: He did all he could to alleviate the hurts of others. Yet, he also spoke of suffering as a source of growth, as a means of purification and inner conversion.
Suffering can be beneficial when it leads to some kind of "resurrection" in us, when a strength or a sleeping energy in us is aroused, when talents heretofore unknown are recognized, when a clarity about life's purpose and direction becomes keener for us, when a stronger sense of compassion for others deepens in us. There is so much within us that needs to come to life. Moments of suffering, times of goodbye, can cause us to peer inside our own tombs of unfinishedness or incompleteness and we can discover vast storehouses of resiliency, vitality, fidelity, love and endurance.
I don't feel like I'm suffering. Yet I feel uninspired. I'm happy where I am, but I'm tired. I'm blessed, so blessed, to be where I am and I know it. But I think there's something more out there for me. And alas, this is the point where I'm slapped in the face with the necessity of patience.
But the gears keep turning. And in the meantime, I have much to improve about myself. Thank God for the opportunity to do so.
Suffering in itself has no value. It is what we do with our suffering that makes the difference. The ministry of Jesus attests to this fact: He did all he could to alleviate the hurts of others. Yet, he also spoke of suffering as a source of growth, as a means of purification and inner conversion.
Suffering can be beneficial when it leads to some kind of "resurrection" in us, when a strength or a sleeping energy in us is aroused, when talents heretofore unknown are recognized, when a clarity about life's purpose and direction becomes keener for us, when a stronger sense of compassion for others deepens in us. There is so much within us that needs to come to life. Moments of suffering, times of goodbye, can cause us to peer inside our own tombs of unfinishedness or incompleteness and we can discover vast storehouses of resiliency, vitality, fidelity, love and endurance.
I don't feel like I'm suffering. Yet I feel uninspired. I'm happy where I am, but I'm tired. I'm blessed, so blessed, to be where I am and I know it. But I think there's something more out there for me. And alas, this is the point where I'm slapped in the face with the necessity of patience.
But the gears keep turning. And in the meantime, I have much to improve about myself. Thank God for the opportunity to do so.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Monday, Week 5 - Opening My Eyes of Faith
"When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me, says the Lord" (Jeremiah 29:13-14).
In busyness I often close down. In deliberate or unexpected awareness, I open up. It is in this openness that I "see" in a deeper or newer way, viewing people, creatures, and nature in a clearer light. As I open and become more aware, something happens inside of me to cause the barriers of my inattentiveness, judgments, or busyness to move aside and for bonding to occur. It is then that I recognize my oneness with the dancing that is inherent in the all of creation.
There are big moments of awareness but also many day to day ones that allow me to enter into this attentiveness. I do not need to be away form home or work in order to know this oneness. I do not need to be at the seashore or on a mountaintop to enjoy the cosmic dance. I only need to be awake and alert, to let go of my busyness and my self-absorption, in order to discover mystery and wonder in things like the food before me and the people at my side. There are stories of life dancing vividly on every level of the world in which I live. Each creature, person, cloud, city corner, rock, and plant has numerous layers of inner activity, threaded with meaning and circles of mystery, offering hope and encouragement to my life.
I look back over the last few months, to the time that I started this blogging project. I was okay with allowing myself to miss a day here, a day there, then a few days here and there, and even okay with accepting that I wasn't going to be finished by the time the Lenten season was through. I'm realizing, though, that there is an apparent correlation between the amount of time that I managed to set aside to pray, and the closeness I felt with God throughout the day. I conclude that the act of finding time for silent prayer and reflection is responsible for a feeling experienced much longer than just the time that is set aside. I regret to see that over the past few weeks, I've allowed myself to blog only once a week, on average. This regret is not just a regret based on principle, but a regret because of the fact that, over the same period of time, I very clearly spent less time throughout the week, during the days, during the most mundane of times, feeling close to God.
It is time, then, for me to kick myself in the butt once more. I cannot settle for the easy path, for a "reflection once in a while". I am called to be constantly seeking to find my way in God, and so that is what I will set out to do.
In busyness I often close down. In deliberate or unexpected awareness, I open up. It is in this openness that I "see" in a deeper or newer way, viewing people, creatures, and nature in a clearer light. As I open and become more aware, something happens inside of me to cause the barriers of my inattentiveness, judgments, or busyness to move aside and for bonding to occur. It is then that I recognize my oneness with the dancing that is inherent in the all of creation.
There are big moments of awareness but also many day to day ones that allow me to enter into this attentiveness. I do not need to be away form home or work in order to know this oneness. I do not need to be at the seashore or on a mountaintop to enjoy the cosmic dance. I only need to be awake and alert, to let go of my busyness and my self-absorption, in order to discover mystery and wonder in things like the food before me and the people at my side. There are stories of life dancing vividly on every level of the world in which I live. Each creature, person, cloud, city corner, rock, and plant has numerous layers of inner activity, threaded with meaning and circles of mystery, offering hope and encouragement to my life.
I look back over the last few months, to the time that I started this blogging project. I was okay with allowing myself to miss a day here, a day there, then a few days here and there, and even okay with accepting that I wasn't going to be finished by the time the Lenten season was through. I'm realizing, though, that there is an apparent correlation between the amount of time that I managed to set aside to pray, and the closeness I felt with God throughout the day. I conclude that the act of finding time for silent prayer and reflection is responsible for a feeling experienced much longer than just the time that is set aside. I regret to see that over the past few weeks, I've allowed myself to blog only once a week, on average. This regret is not just a regret based on principle, but a regret because of the fact that, over the same period of time, I very clearly spent less time throughout the week, during the days, during the most mundane of times, feeling close to God.
It is time, then, for me to kick myself in the butt once more. I cannot settle for the easy path, for a "reflection once in a while". I am called to be constantly seeking to find my way in God, and so that is what I will set out to do.
Fifth Sunday of Lent - Offering Our Whole Life to God
I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live" (Ezekiel 37:14)
God is dwelling with us everywhere. For our part we need to have an awareness or a consciousness of this loving presence. Our meditation and prayer time can be a source of our waking up, becoming more aware of God always filling our days and nights. The most ordinary of our days contains the power and the splendor of spiritual awareness. It is up to us to pay attention, to be present to the here and now, in order to enter more deeply into life.
As we open ourselves to spiritual growth, there is simply no part of our life that can be left out. Nothing is too dirty or smudged. Nothing is too ecstatic or passionate. Nothing is too mundane or ordinary. All of life is the food of our spiritual growth. We can grow closer and deeper in our relationship with God through every situation, depending on our attitude, our openness, and our awareness. Be aware of God teaching you through your life today.
The word that sticks out when I read through this reflection and reflect on it myself, is "mundane". It's a little bit frustrating to run into someone I haven't seen for some time and inevitably be faced with the questions: "How are you? What are you up to?" This is frustrating because I can't seem to find an answer that's any better than "Just workin'. Everything's great. I can't complain."
Don't get me wrong - I am very aware of how blessed I am to be in my position, both in my career and in my world. I still know that I am where I am supposed to be, right now. But I have to admit... there are times when my life feels a little bit mundane.
Today I am challenged not only to face this fact, but to take strides to make the most of it. Why should I let the emotionally steady and monotonous life path that I'm on get in the way of vigorously developing my relationship with God and feeling inspired to live out my life to its fullest?
It is easy to let the magnificence of simple days come and go without much of a thought. It's up to me to resist this trend.
God is dwelling with us everywhere. For our part we need to have an awareness or a consciousness of this loving presence. Our meditation and prayer time can be a source of our waking up, becoming more aware of God always filling our days and nights. The most ordinary of our days contains the power and the splendor of spiritual awareness. It is up to us to pay attention, to be present to the here and now, in order to enter more deeply into life.
As we open ourselves to spiritual growth, there is simply no part of our life that can be left out. Nothing is too dirty or smudged. Nothing is too ecstatic or passionate. Nothing is too mundane or ordinary. All of life is the food of our spiritual growth. We can grow closer and deeper in our relationship with God through every situation, depending on our attitude, our openness, and our awareness. Be aware of God teaching you through your life today.
The word that sticks out when I read through this reflection and reflect on it myself, is "mundane". It's a little bit frustrating to run into someone I haven't seen for some time and inevitably be faced with the questions: "How are you? What are you up to?" This is frustrating because I can't seem to find an answer that's any better than "Just workin'. Everything's great. I can't complain."
Don't get me wrong - I am very aware of how blessed I am to be in my position, both in my career and in my world. I still know that I am where I am supposed to be, right now. But I have to admit... there are times when my life feels a little bit mundane.
Today I am challenged not only to face this fact, but to take strides to make the most of it. Why should I let the emotionally steady and monotonous life path that I'm on get in the way of vigorously developing my relationship with God and feeling inspired to live out my life to its fullest?
It is easy to let the magnificence of simple days come and go without much of a thought. It's up to me to resist this trend.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Saturday, Week 4 - Refusing to Follow the Easy Way
"Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. The gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it" (Matthew 7:13-14).
Divine Challenger, when did I stop risking? When did I lose my edge for adventure and surprise? When did I start pretending that what I now know is all there is to know? When did I give in to fear and bow to security? When did I let uncertainty press against my free spirit? When did I start moving toward the easy, sure thing? When did I give away my ability to be disturbed? When did I start refusing to pay the price for fuller depth and joy? When did I let panic of the unknown future wrap its barbed wire fingers around my desire to grow?
Inner Source of Courage, nudge me toward my growth. Urge me away from the strongholds. Convince me of my potential to leap beyond the barriers.
This would be a good example of those moments throughout this series of reflections which encourage immediate engagement into the process of change. I have to accept that at the moment, I am best served to pray and consider that where I am today is where I am supposed to be. I may not be, however, where I will be in 2 years. But I must trust that if I continue to question, continue to communicate with God and with others, I will find my way.
It is both a bit intimidating and exciting to consider the nature of the road less traveled. To face this risk, to leave the comforts of secure routines and familiar places and faces, is indeed an act of faith and not an easy one at that. But this is what makes the act so intriguing and so rewarding. To take the road less traveled, to seek the most growth-inspiring and fulfilling choices in life, is the best way to have lived a life truly worth living.
Divine Challenger, when did I stop risking? When did I lose my edge for adventure and surprise? When did I start pretending that what I now know is all there is to know? When did I give in to fear and bow to security? When did I let uncertainty press against my free spirit? When did I start moving toward the easy, sure thing? When did I give away my ability to be disturbed? When did I start refusing to pay the price for fuller depth and joy? When did I let panic of the unknown future wrap its barbed wire fingers around my desire to grow?
Inner Source of Courage, nudge me toward my growth. Urge me away from the strongholds. Convince me of my potential to leap beyond the barriers.
This would be a good example of those moments throughout this series of reflections which encourage immediate engagement into the process of change. I have to accept that at the moment, I am best served to pray and consider that where I am today is where I am supposed to be. I may not be, however, where I will be in 2 years. But I must trust that if I continue to question, continue to communicate with God and with others, I will find my way.
It is both a bit intimidating and exciting to consider the nature of the road less traveled. To face this risk, to leave the comforts of secure routines and familiar places and faces, is indeed an act of faith and not an easy one at that. But this is what makes the act so intriguing and so rewarding. To take the road less traveled, to seek the most growth-inspiring and fulfilling choices in life, is the best way to have lived a life truly worth living.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Friday, Week 4 - We Are All God's Children
"The compassion of human beings is for their neighbors, but the compassion of the Lord if for every living thing" (Sirach 18:13).
I have hope because there are people in wealthy nations whose awareness of the rest of the world ismaking a difference. They want to help. They are working to change the great gap between the haves and have-nots. I see the choices these generous and compassionate people are making. Their selflessness and kind-heartedness encourages me to make better decisions about how I live and how I give. I do not believe that it is a matter of condemning a comfortable life but, rather, of wanting this for all people.
It is good that we are challenged to use our resources in such a way that others can also have a more humane life. It is essential that we are reminded often that each human being is our sister or our brother. It is the message that Jesus taught so long ago. It is an ageless teaching and we are always in need of re-learning and living the message. Lent is a good time to re-enter the heart of this teaching.
I sometimes have a hard time envisioning how it is that I hope to make a significant impact in my community. Right now, it seems as though my reach is very short. I don't seem to know the right people. My involvement this far only seems to affect a handful of people, and those effects are subtle.
I think I can relate this idea to learning a new skill. A couple of weeks ago, I made an impulsive decision to purchase an affordable acoustic guitar ($50, free shipping!) and try to learn it! I can proudly say now I know about 10 chords, and can sight-read simple sheet music. The point is this: When I first picked up the guitar, it seemed a long way off before I could play even a few chords and transition between them seemlessly. Now, just a few days of practice later, I can play short pieces (and even sing along with them if I so desire!). We are capable of dramatic growth in fairly short periods of time, no matter how difficult the task may seem.
I believe this idea applies to my role in the community. If I'm active in taking the right steps to meet the right people and get involved in the right places, I can sculpt for myself a situation in which I can make an impact in a greater way. Again, though, patience must be in play. Restless patience is the key.
I have hope because there are people in wealthy nations whose awareness of the rest of the world ismaking a difference. They want to help. They are working to change the great gap between the haves and have-nots. I see the choices these generous and compassionate people are making. Their selflessness and kind-heartedness encourages me to make better decisions about how I live and how I give. I do not believe that it is a matter of condemning a comfortable life but, rather, of wanting this for all people.
It is good that we are challenged to use our resources in such a way that others can also have a more humane life. It is essential that we are reminded often that each human being is our sister or our brother. It is the message that Jesus taught so long ago. It is an ageless teaching and we are always in need of re-learning and living the message. Lent is a good time to re-enter the heart of this teaching.
I sometimes have a hard time envisioning how it is that I hope to make a significant impact in my community. Right now, it seems as though my reach is very short. I don't seem to know the right people. My involvement this far only seems to affect a handful of people, and those effects are subtle.
I think I can relate this idea to learning a new skill. A couple of weeks ago, I made an impulsive decision to purchase an affordable acoustic guitar ($50, free shipping!) and try to learn it! I can proudly say now I know about 10 chords, and can sight-read simple sheet music. The point is this: When I first picked up the guitar, it seemed a long way off before I could play even a few chords and transition between them seemlessly. Now, just a few days of practice later, I can play short pieces (and even sing along with them if I so desire!). We are capable of dramatic growth in fairly short periods of time, no matter how difficult the task may seem.
I believe this idea applies to my role in the community. If I'm active in taking the right steps to meet the right people and get involved in the right places, I can sculpt for myself a situation in which I can make an impact in a greater way. Again, though, patience must be in play. Restless patience is the key.
Thursday, Week 4 - Overcoming My Fears
"For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:10).
Part of me yearns for inner freedom yet hides from it at the same time, the place in me that resists coming home to my truest self. It is in this unfree place that I hide from what will bring me to greater wholeness.
How can I resist the invitation to personal wholeness, to be my truest self, when I am always yearning for this in my life? Yet, I do resist it. There are times when I allow my fears, anxieties, or confusions to keep me from making a change in my life that would be for my growth.
Sometimes it has been something rather simple, like trying on a new style of behavior. For example, I recognize this happening in me when my life and work call me to be in a "high extrovert" situation, meeting and greeting new people, entering into long hours of socializing and relating to strangers. The part of me that knows how delicious it feels to be an introvert wants to run and hide, to not reach out, to close my inner door and go home to solitude and quiet.
Last weekend, I had the pleasure to travel with my roommate and many of our friends (14 in all!) to Wichita, Kansas, where my roommate grew up, and his Dad has a farm with a whole slew of activities to keep us more than entertained (horseback riding, ATVs, and a zipline into water, to name a few). I had one of the easiest, more relaxing, enjoyable days of my life just exploring the various adventures of the property, but I also managed to find another, totally separate takeaway from the weekend.
An "old friend" (it feels strange to even be able to say that at the age of 23) from Tucson just happened to be in Wichita at the time. So Saturday night, I sent him a few text messages, and before I knew it, I was face to face with him, catching up on life and hitting all sorts of topics. He's a few years older than I am (we are acquainted through the Church we were both active at in Tucson), so fortunately he is in a position to give me some experienced insight into the discernment process. There are two main messages that stick out to me from my relatively extensive chat with him:
1) Your company does not own you. He illustrated his point with his own career snapshot. He defines himself by his qualifications, experiences, and industry expertise, not by the company he works for. That is not to say he isn't proud of the company he works for - he certainly is. But he also recognizes his independence. This gives him the freedom and flexibility to be himself to the fullest degree.
2) The discernment process never ends. He affirmed my restlessness by convincing me that his mind is not in such a different place. He was very honest in his consideration of his option (and potential!) to veer from the comfortable career path, despite knowing he's good at what he does and even feels a decent amount of pride and satisfaction from his work.
I so appreciated the conversation with my friend, and have to believe that the Holy Spirit had some involvement in bringing us together last weekend in Wichita. I can only hope it served him in some way, as it served me.
Part of me yearns for inner freedom yet hides from it at the same time, the place in me that resists coming home to my truest self. It is in this unfree place that I hide from what will bring me to greater wholeness.
How can I resist the invitation to personal wholeness, to be my truest self, when I am always yearning for this in my life? Yet, I do resist it. There are times when I allow my fears, anxieties, or confusions to keep me from making a change in my life that would be for my growth.
Sometimes it has been something rather simple, like trying on a new style of behavior. For example, I recognize this happening in me when my life and work call me to be in a "high extrovert" situation, meeting and greeting new people, entering into long hours of socializing and relating to strangers. The part of me that knows how delicious it feels to be an introvert wants to run and hide, to not reach out, to close my inner door and go home to solitude and quiet.
Last weekend, I had the pleasure to travel with my roommate and many of our friends (14 in all!) to Wichita, Kansas, where my roommate grew up, and his Dad has a farm with a whole slew of activities to keep us more than entertained (horseback riding, ATVs, and a zipline into water, to name a few). I had one of the easiest, more relaxing, enjoyable days of my life just exploring the various adventures of the property, but I also managed to find another, totally separate takeaway from the weekend.
An "old friend" (it feels strange to even be able to say that at the age of 23) from Tucson just happened to be in Wichita at the time. So Saturday night, I sent him a few text messages, and before I knew it, I was face to face with him, catching up on life and hitting all sorts of topics. He's a few years older than I am (we are acquainted through the Church we were both active at in Tucson), so fortunately he is in a position to give me some experienced insight into the discernment process. There are two main messages that stick out to me from my relatively extensive chat with him:
1) Your company does not own you. He illustrated his point with his own career snapshot. He defines himself by his qualifications, experiences, and industry expertise, not by the company he works for. That is not to say he isn't proud of the company he works for - he certainly is. But he also recognizes his independence. This gives him the freedom and flexibility to be himself to the fullest degree.
2) The discernment process never ends. He affirmed my restlessness by convincing me that his mind is not in such a different place. He was very honest in his consideration of his option (and potential!) to veer from the comfortable career path, despite knowing he's good at what he does and even feels a decent amount of pride and satisfaction from his work.
I so appreciated the conversation with my friend, and have to believe that the Holy Spirit had some involvement in bringing us together last weekend in Wichita. I can only hope it served him in some way, as it served me.
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