Glancing at the stacks of books I've acquired at a pace that outstrips my reading, feelings of guilt and exasperation wash over me. These cherished volumes which once brought me delight and a sense of pride now stand as accusers before me. They indict me for knowledge that has not made the 6 inch descent into my heart.
I read voraciously--practically anything I could get my hands on. Over the last three years, I've read more than a thousand pages from a wide variety of Christian literature: Christian living, Theology, missions and etc. I have gained head knowledge, but alas, all in vain! What good is 'strong' theology without corresponding life transformation?
I am nothing but a hypocrite. A liar.
At the start of this semester, the Lord in His mercy stirred a deep yearning within me to start anew. Moved by the writings of Marva J. Dawn, I decided to keep the Sabbath in honor of God. 'In The Beginning God' challenged me to adopt a God-centric reading of Genesis (and by extension the entire Bible) which will shape my life and build godly character. These efforts are part of a renewed desire to be intentional about being a Christian.
Knowing how quickly I forsake my resolutions, God stirred the heart of my pastor to start a "back to basics" accountability group together with WL. I was honestly hesitant to start out on this journey. My enthusiasm is fleeting and soon this will become a burden or an elaborate ritual at best. Despite my misgivings, I sense an invitation from God to begin a work of transformation that I badly need. I pray that consciously returning to the basics of praying, meditating on the word and honest sharing will bear fruits in time.
Who am I? I am merely a mirage--a distant dream to a world that values people only for what they have. Introvert, writer, dreamer and more, I have been named, redeemed by Love and enlisted in the proclamation of the Kingdom and the work of restoration.
06 October 2011
Gracing words
"When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your souls for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about the joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?" (C. S. Lewis)
Rooms. Partitions. Bunkers.
Compartmentalization is a dominant feature that diffuses through society. Buildings, ocean vessels and even human hearts have segregated spaces. Some have purely mechanical functions, but others are constructed to sustain widely diverging and often contradictory lifestyles and habits. Society encourages this by socializing people to keep religion and other 'inconvenient' choices to the inward dimension. We are also told that each person has a private and public persona. We all have many faces and are to some extent a different person to different people. What hope then is there for honest, open and vulnerable sharing? How can we truly communicate till we have Faces?
I've titled this blog as an invitation to catch a glimpse of the real person beneath the protective social identity which I hope to dismantle in exchange for an integrated life--one where my word and deeds meet both in public and in private. I dare not presume that the details of my private life should be of interest to anyone; yet, because I know that I'm surrounded by people who care for me, this space is my way of sharing my life and inviting you to hold me accountable.
But why a blog and not something more personal like face-to-face conversations? Blogging is certainly less personal and a poor substitute but it's the best I can offer at this juncture. Introversion often reduces me to a bundle of nerves whenever I attempt to share anything personal. My speech becomes impaired and the cat runs off with my tongue. This isn't a convenient excuse to side step the issue, but a gentle plea for your loving patience as the Lord enables me to gain the confidence to step out.
Writing has always been my preferred medium of expression only because I have little affinity with other means. Words seldom come to me naturally and I often labor long and hard over each word I pen. Even so, the solitude that accompanies the mental exertion is therapeutic and liberates me to be myself.
May the unfolding chronological snapshots of my journey in but not of this world present a humbling portrait of my all-too-human frailty and highlight the sustaining Grace from the One who deigned to pitch His tent among us.
Rooms. Partitions. Bunkers.
Compartmentalization is a dominant feature that diffuses through society. Buildings, ocean vessels and even human hearts have segregated spaces. Some have purely mechanical functions, but others are constructed to sustain widely diverging and often contradictory lifestyles and habits. Society encourages this by socializing people to keep religion and other 'inconvenient' choices to the inward dimension. We are also told that each person has a private and public persona. We all have many faces and are to some extent a different person to different people. What hope then is there for honest, open and vulnerable sharing? How can we truly communicate till we have Faces?
I've titled this blog as an invitation to catch a glimpse of the real person beneath the protective social identity which I hope to dismantle in exchange for an integrated life--one where my word and deeds meet both in public and in private. I dare not presume that the details of my private life should be of interest to anyone; yet, because I know that I'm surrounded by people who care for me, this space is my way of sharing my life and inviting you to hold me accountable.
But why a blog and not something more personal like face-to-face conversations? Blogging is certainly less personal and a poor substitute but it's the best I can offer at this juncture. Introversion often reduces me to a bundle of nerves whenever I attempt to share anything personal. My speech becomes impaired and the cat runs off with my tongue. This isn't a convenient excuse to side step the issue, but a gentle plea for your loving patience as the Lord enables me to gain the confidence to step out.
Writing has always been my preferred medium of expression only because I have little affinity with other means. Words seldom come to me naturally and I often labor long and hard over each word I pen. Even so, the solitude that accompanies the mental exertion is therapeutic and liberates me to be myself.
May the unfolding chronological snapshots of my journey in but not of this world present a humbling portrait of my all-too-human frailty and highlight the sustaining Grace from the One who deigned to pitch His tent among us.
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