I don't want to be writing right now. Perhaps this contends for the worst way to begin a blog post, but regardless, it's true. My mind is lazily searching for words and my fingers are stiff and stubborn against typing. But I want to ask: what happens when life doesn't feel remarkable? I've had times when my walk with God feels quick-paced and vibrant and enticing and full of reason to be excited, but what does it mean when there is a lull and a deprivation of anything worth noting, or telling, or writing about? Are these times when God is doing less? Have I again gradually dropped in the distance-scale to being far from God? I recently led a group of youth with a Bible study on how God commanded Israel to perceive the importance of remembering. Particularly the first handful of books in the Old Testament really really home-in on how significant it was for these people to remember. They were to make habits of telling their children about God's revealed character and what He had already done for them. They were to have clothing specifically designed to act as reminders for them. God was so thorough in explaining His expectation that this nation Israel needed to respond to Him by diligently remembering all He had shown them already. In this Bible study we ended with the challenge to each other to add something to our lives that encourages remembering what God has done. Solely motivated by wanting to practice what I preach I have begun my version: intentionally pausing at the end of each day. This looks like stopping to recall in my mind everything which happened that day, it's quite simple really. I've found that there are quiet yet spectacular moments within each day which naturally get brushed under the carpet as they are hurried past and subsequently lost. In this action of pausing some of the more special parts of that day are resurrected to my consciousness and I'll dwell on them for just a short while, recognising God's slight hand and feeling grateful. I guess I'm ending with a lesson that I find warm and encouraging: we can alter what we find worthy of celebrating. In my own life I've felt like there hasn't been anything sparkly enough to write about on here. Rather than this being a symptom of an unremarkable season prescribed by God, it is no more than an issue of perspective. There is hope!
Friday, April 12, 2013
REMEMBER REMEMBER
I don't want to be writing right now. Perhaps this contends for the worst way to begin a blog post, but regardless, it's true. My mind is lazily searching for words and my fingers are stiff and stubborn against typing. But I want to ask: what happens when life doesn't feel remarkable? I've had times when my walk with God feels quick-paced and vibrant and enticing and full of reason to be excited, but what does it mean when there is a lull and a deprivation of anything worth noting, or telling, or writing about? Are these times when God is doing less? Have I again gradually dropped in the distance-scale to being far from God? I recently led a group of youth with a Bible study on how God commanded Israel to perceive the importance of remembering. Particularly the first handful of books in the Old Testament really really home-in on how significant it was for these people to remember. They were to make habits of telling their children about God's revealed character and what He had already done for them. They were to have clothing specifically designed to act as reminders for them. God was so thorough in explaining His expectation that this nation Israel needed to respond to Him by diligently remembering all He had shown them already. In this Bible study we ended with the challenge to each other to add something to our lives that encourages remembering what God has done. Solely motivated by wanting to practice what I preach I have begun my version: intentionally pausing at the end of each day. This looks like stopping to recall in my mind everything which happened that day, it's quite simple really. I've found that there are quiet yet spectacular moments within each day which naturally get brushed under the carpet as they are hurried past and subsequently lost. In this action of pausing some of the more special parts of that day are resurrected to my consciousness and I'll dwell on them for just a short while, recognising God's slight hand and feeling grateful. I guess I'm ending with a lesson that I find warm and encouraging: we can alter what we find worthy of celebrating. In my own life I've felt like there hasn't been anything sparkly enough to write about on here. Rather than this being a symptom of an unremarkable season prescribed by God, it is no more than an issue of perspective. There is hope!