Sunday thoughts (13)

The weakness (but the strength)

I’ve gained some of my power back. Which sounds.. I don’t know, like a stereotypical gym bro? Or a cheap self help book. “Get your power back”. I don’t care much about power, a few blog posts ago I wrote about being weak vessels so that God can shine through us. We don’t have to be anything in ourselves. 

But I have, if not changed my mind, maybe entered a different, less passive season. I keep listening to preachings about how amazing and beautiful God has made us, and I think there’s a point to that which we often miss. There’s a C.S.Lewis quote about Gods love not coming from who we are, but from who he is:

“He loved us not because we were lovable, but because He is love.“

But that also sounds a bit like we’re just horrible creatures. Crazy, that God loves us anyway. And of course, we were all made dead in our sin. We’re all kind of horrible.
Or what is the nature of man? We’re horrible, because of sin. But we’re beautiful, because of redemption, and because that’s how we were made. That’s the thing. We’re not horrible creatures who then became beautiful through Christ. We were always created to be beautiful. Then sin comes in and poisons that, but it doesn’t change that God made us wonderful when he wove us together, when he created our minds and hearts and eyes.

I don’t want to argue for any kind of self sufficiency, our identity should never just be perfect without God. But the way God made us, and rebirthed us, is so stunning that maybe it should change how we see ourselves, completely. Foundationally. Not just in a sense that now we’re not horrible anymore, but in a sense that Gods amazing opinion of us is what becomes our own. That’s not pride, that’s listening to authority. 

I’ve talked about this with a lot of friends lately. That some christians live as if in an abusive relationship. They meet God, and then they get more insecure about what they do. The fear of making a wrong decision can paralyze us completely, we’re like a woman not daring to leave the house without explicit permission from her partner. Less confident, instead of more. 

And we can live our whole lives like that, passive, as excused by “waiting for the Lord”. 

But it also doesn’t matter so much what you do. And you have permission to do stuff. I don’t think he will be angry.
Or maybe it’s because it matters so much what you do that God loves to see it. Your choices, your relationship with him, your communication and renewal and love and obedience can lead to relationships and projects and art. 

Sometimes we sit around in hesitancy for months or years, waiting for a clear word from the Lord that will open the door immediately. And sometimes that’s what we’re supposed to do. But sometimes that just wastes the time we could have spent running around and enjoying the house of God. If it’s just fear holding you back, fear of failure, or fear of doing wrong in the eyes of the Lord, then it’s better to take that time and prepare and build and do what it is you (you as in plural, as in his spirit is in you) want to do. 

Sunday thoughts (12)

The problem when you have too much is that they’ll think it’s you.

They’ll see what you do, and they’ll think it’s you.

They’ll think it’s you, solving all your problems, and working your life together for good. Sometimes you need to be weak, to show where your power comes from.

Like in the bible, when God told Gideon that He would be with His people, and they would defeat their enemies. But instead of strengthening their army, God said that the army was too big. In the book of Judges, ch 6:

The Lord said to Gideon, “You have too many men. I cannot deliver Midian into their hands, or Israel would boast against me, saying ‘My own strength has saved me.’

The journey is to become weak. And it’s the absolute freedom of the gospel: to not have to be anything in ourselves. Take it as a gift, not an insult. Sometimes you think you need to be more, when actually you need to be less. We need more cracks in our jars made of clay, so that it’s the light shining through us that’s visible — not the outward glaze. 

Sunday thoughts (11)

Life is a little bit like the stairs up to my apartment. 

I walk up two stairs and come to a big window, where I can see half the sun over the roof of the building next doors. Then I walk up a couple more stairs, and by the next window, the sun is shining golden in my face. I feel it in my back as I continue walking. But it’s darker on the next platform, always a little bit darker on the platforms by the doors until I turn around again and take the stairs up to the next window. And finally by my door, I open it and walk through the corridor. And suddenly I’m in the living room. And suddenly I can sit still for a bit in the sunshine. 

That’s what it’s like to deal with things. They get better, but then it gets a bit darker again. We see more light, but then we keep going upwards and it feels like we’re moving away from the sun. But we’re just moving higher, and as time goes on we’ll end up in a place where we can see it better than ever before.

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(But even then, being healed does not mean always seeing the sun. It just means dwelling in that high place and knowing that we all have our own ways of moving through light and darkness.)

Sunday thoughts (10)

Faith is sassy. It wears a smile. It’s similar to confidence, except that it’s not confidence in your own characteristics and abilities, but in Gods. It’s similar but with another source. A better source, an unending one. And faith does not contain fear, it’s not passivity in fear of disappointing God, it leads to activity together with Him and for Him, in confidence in who He is and confidence in who He has created us to be in His kingdom. It’s walking and acting and creating, it’s choices and future and an ability to dig into whatever we’re feeling today, because we have an unquenchable hope for the future.

Sunday thoughts (8)

I read somewhere recently: 

“Christ didn’t die for your dreams, he died for your sins.”

And it’s so true. Let’s precede this with saying that of course God has a calling for your life, and of course he has amazing things he wants to lead you into, and dreams he has put into your heart. But he did not die for you to finally be able to get on that airplane and live that lifestyle you’ve always wanted to. He did not die for you to finally have that new job opportunity, savings account or success. Christ died for your sins. He died for you to be a new creation, pure and blameless, whether you’re in a minimum wage job or have an office with a skyline view. The main thing he died to bring you into is himself. Away from damnation and into eternity. That’s what we have waiting for us, that’s the life we have, changed and free, at a fancy restaurant patio or out on the streets. 

Continuation of prev. post (and Sunday thoughts (7))

And here’s the thing, I stood close to it, leaning on the window pane. But I wanted to sit down. If I turned around there was the square of light, reflected on the sloped ceiling next to our kitchen table. And so I straightened up, and the sun was not on me anymore, and it was dark. But then I went and sat down on a kitchen chair and there it was again, bright and golden, filling up my whole field of vision even when I closed my eyes. And it was so stupid, I thought, to think that the sun would be less bright here. Maybe the sun is so bright in itself that it will still be quite bright, even if you move ten meters further away. And I think I do that all the time with God, feel like I’m moving further away, but truth is that I just need to sit down in the light and it won’t matter that much whether I’m ten meters further away or closer. Maybe I just need to stop worrying about the darkness and come to the light in the first place.

Sunday thoughts (3)

Our minds need to shift. To conquer anxiety and defeat depression: we need to add faith to our hope. (Some of us are good at hope, because we have had no other choice.) It means in every defeat you’ll stand back up again.

But faith means living in the victory – when you’ve decided what you believe; about God, about yourself, about situations – it’s the active choice to stick with that in any given moment. So much will depend on what you dare to believe.