“I believe that we are who we choose to be. Nobody’s going to come and save you, you’ve got to save yourself. Nobody’s going to give you anything; you’ve got to go out and fight for it. Nobody knows what you want except for you. And nobody will be as sorry as you if you don’t get it. So, don’t give up on your dreams.”
“What will you’re mother say?” I asked cheerfully.
“I don’t care a damn what she says!”
At twenty the things for which one does not care a damn about should, properly, be many, but one must not include mothers on that list. I told him this gently.
Rudard Kipling’s ‘The finest story in the World’
“And you, being dead in your sins and the uncircumcision of your flesh, has he quickened together with him., having forgiven you all trespasses;
Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to his cross;
And having spoiled principalities and powers, he made a show of them openly, triumphing over then in it.”
Read this while getting ready for work, this morning. I read it, than quickly read it again; For some reason my eyes kept catching on the phrase, ‘His cross.’ I read it over several times. I guess I’ve always thought about it as my cross, which Jesus lifted from my shoulders and carried for me. But it was His. It always belonged to Him. That is how completely Christ gave Himself up for me.
The day that I first understood that, was the day that my whole life was changed. And it was nice to be reminded.
I almost hadn’t picked up my bible after reading some in Nehemiah and Psalms. But the house grew more quiet and more empty as people left for work. So I stood up, flipped open my bible, and the words of Paul began to run through my mouth. I read the whole book aloud before I heard a car door shut in the driveway, and then I stopped.
To this day I’ve never regretted a moment in His word.
Something big, if it all works out, is going to be happening in my life, soon. A shifting of paths, or maybe a natural bend awaits me. It’s odd to dream of doing something since you were young, and then to be presented with the possibility of its fruition.
Fear of failure is always whispering in my ear. No matter how large the crowd around me, no matter the how loud their voices, I can always hear the whisper. It’s what has kept me back. I think it’s finally time to set my eyes on the goal, and start running faster than the voice in my mind that is telling me that I can’t. It’s time to leave the comfort of the crowd I stand in, and run the race that I see set before me.
Looking to the Author and finisher of my faith.
Never looking back.
I really can’t get over this whole ‘blogging’ thing. I’ve had one for several years, now. It never really seemed so easy until recently…as in, perhaps the last few weeks.
You could say my writing style isn’t conducive to the dependability that blogging thrives on. I have a terrible attitude of not posting anything unless it’s perfect. Which means I hardly post anything. At all.
So I decided to just post whatever I pleased. Whenever I felt like it. And you know what? It’s working out well for me. If my parent’s are reading this, they’re probably smiling. It fits my personality to not do something until it isn’t necessary. Or to find the strength to do something after I’m told not to. I’m such a horribly contrary person.
Here I raise my glass to mediocrity. God can only fill an empty vessel after all, right?
And I’m thinking about God.
He is good.
You heard me? Good. As in PERFECT.
I grew up reading ancient tales of fickle gods. God’s who enslaved beautiful women to the underworld because they ate 9 pomegranate seeds from a feast offered to them. God’s who sat in the heavens, observing battles and interactions with an apathy induced by divine boredom. They were gods that fought not only with their subjects, but with themselves, too.
As I went about my business I was basking in the … lack of the fear that my God didn’t love me, I suppose you could call it. My God loves me with a love so perfect that it’s changing me to be more like Him. He loves me so completely that no one can add or take away from it.
My God is Good
And there’s nothing anybody can do about it.
*large, comforting sigh*
(addressing the blogsphere–) Did I miss anything while I was away?
The world keeps turning without me in the palpable world; People die, famines ravage, joys eclipse sorrow, families are built and torn apart, hope is born, chances are taken or lost, hatred festers, love sooths, and the world turns.
Yet, curiously enough, my blogs stay the same. Two years later I come back to find everything as I left it, a veritable portal to my younger self.
It’s weird. Some of the things I wrote of two years ago seem so distant, my worries of that day were trying and real, but they passed. sometimes it displays immaturity and a nativity that betrays my limited experience, yet at other times I’m surprised by the understanding and the passion for truth that I had. I had an energy and a focus that I’ve forgotten and lost sight of. Everything was so fresh back then…
I’ve given it such a long break that my fingers are starting to itch for the pen. I want to keep an actual journal — something nondescript, spiral bound, plenty of lines, on the larger side– on hand. A book into which I may pour my thoughts, quotes, newspaper and magazine clippings, and whatever else I think of.
But this…this place is special. This is where I share. It’s where I try to be an encouraging presence to those who happen to pass by.
With that said, I think I’m finished!
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