A man who speaks at length and comes to truth and revelation in his musings is one who is submitted to the spirit moving him. Which is awesome and can be shared in company/fellowship. When there are people around also looking for the light, the light shines and begins to refract and grow, hitting more surfaces, effortlessly overpowering darkness.
One man speaking his ideas to a crowd sits differently. For shadows to be revealed the form must move. Light shines - it even moves for us. However it won't come to me on my terms. When I shout 'reveal my hidden darkness! pursue me MORE' I am thinking like a socialist, demanding the light change its path and give me, meet me, come my way. A vision is not given, it is sought out. A lesson can be heard and go unlearned for the heart of the student. Questions flow out of the unsure heart, the one pursuing purification. Inquisitive students tend to success; Inquisitive seekers become disciples.
Disciples change the world. Rather, their inner world is changed, and with new forms, lit with new light and direction, the world they perceive is altered. So changed from within, they go about this life differently, changing the world into the light they know.
Discipleship and me.
How does one set about becoming a disciple. He chooses. A life that is not his own, but at the feet and on the coattails of one who has what is desired, the one who has purpose in his step and his eyes fixed elsewhere.What do I want? I want to know me, but not just what makes me tick. I want to know WHY ME without the whiny i need knowledge it implies. I don't even need justification; I received Jesus and was justified. I want to see a more perfect plan unfolding within me, and by my hands everyday. Nothing I do, but what I am part of. Nothing I start, but what I receive and run with. Where am I led? What does that walk look like? Kinda bizarre. It's different for every man, and the exact same for every man.
It leads down a narrow road, where big ideas are honed and deepened, where pressure builds and anything that is not pure will be boiled till it sacrifices its mixture. It's pain in some places, and elation in others. It's learning where to go when you've forgotten the rules. It's following in the worn trails found only by men of faith. It's seeking water with every bit of you because you're desperate for it, a desperation born from just the occasional taste. The Good Life. Peace, Rest, and Gentleness. Strength, Power, and Glory we casually wish for and hold everything against. We all want the same things: some just recognize it and move that way. The others don't care to give up anything this proving way requires. But what's worth fighting for? Satisfaction? A raise? Your child's education? Stuff? How about real joy? Understanding in the most confounding circumstances? An unfearing life? Seeing the face of God and knowing he's with you and never leaves?
Quit with the relativism! We are the same, you and I! We want resolution in our hearts! We want to belong. We want strength to do what we desire and not to do those things we don't want to do: we don't want to be subject to the whims of what seems to control us. Nobody likes feeling powerless so some people grab their life by the horns and force it into subjugation. This requires all your energy perpetually. But if you can receive life as it comes, knowing you can only control your response to situations, you'll find peace. Oh, God, open my small mind. Unleash the boldness and imagination within me to begin conceiving what you could possibly have in mind for me.
Today was fine, and when night came I fell. I chose the hard route - the one where the weight of the world and the purpose of my life is on my shoulders and I'm only failing. It made for a subdued evening. I watched The Green Lantern, in which Hal Jordan faces his fear of failure/commitment/rejection, and overcomes. The power of will is stronger than fear. The ring produces anything you can imagine**. But what's in me was never mine. I was gifted, I was chosen.
The ruin of Jerusalem. It's desolation. My desolation. Until, at the time, I discover someone's returned and is setting up a building again. How here? How Faithful! Look at your capacity and audacity to dream! This place? You don't think it's dead? Surely... Oh. Yes. Yes, I believe! We can do this; this city can be rebuilt, properly, and well ordered. [Yira, which means "to see," and shalem, which means "peace".] The City of Light.Without my knowing, a planted seed has begun its ascent. Not of my works, but at the appointed time.
I semi-highlighted on this fact earlier today, but the meaning that the text is exuding is awesome. It requires the reader to scan over it several times. The interpretation varies after each glance.
ReplyDeleteAn excellent piece of writing is often determined by how often the author's audience must rescan the poem/essay/story in order to achieve proper understanding concerning the writers intention for jotting down his/hers creation.
Comprehension of the intended meaning is enhanced after multiple re-readings of the piece. It attracts people back to the text, which is what most authors desire. Assuming that this is what you aspire: for people to not only read, but for their eyes to wander back to the piece that you devoted so much of yourself to, then continue what you're doing!