Not who they are, but who you are.
Who you are not isn't the focus.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
As The Ruin Falls
Yesterday I left Carlisle in much the same way I came to it, climbing into a train with this gaping sadness of leaving much behind and some feelings of bewilderment, excitement, and sometimes horror of what could lie ahead. But this time, the horror ate away at the excitement like some sort of parasite or acid. What on earth have I become? What am I bringing home with me? Can God always be this real? Where have these six months led me to?
Then, after the journey on the train, I settled down, I prayed. I prayed some selfish prayer. I prayed, ironically enough, more selfishly than before I came to Carlisle in order to learn how to pray. “God, I want this, God, give me this, God, O GOD, why don’t I have that. -Oh, and since I know that this is the attitude I should have about a Saviour who gave all for me- by the way, I want to want you in my life most of all, help me with that too.” The latter request became some sort of a side note, a trite recitation of a few lines… like extra paperwork that people sign in order to get what they really want. I said I wanted God most, simply as a means to gain the first and more selfish demands.
I’ve prayed this kind of prayer before. I remember one night in Africa I had a similar conversation with God. It was a little less desperate, and a little more humble than the words I nearly spat at him yesterday. That night in February, He spoke then more clearly than I have ever heard his voice before. He said that what I ask for isn’t wrong, but that he simply wants me to desire him the most. Basically, my priorities were wrong.
I was calling this conversation to memory last night, and I wondered what he would say this time. Would he say once again to want him the most, to get my priorities right? I already knew that was what I needed, but I realized now that knowing is very different than understanding and meaning. How could I desire him the most, what would my motive be? I have tried giving myself so many reasons to place God in the first place, talking myself into loving Him. But it was his voice again last night that brought clarity and understanding. He didn’t condemn me, he didn’t yell at me for being blind or weak… he simply said “You are my desire.” As if to say, “It’s not your idea, Hannah, you didn’t think this up for yourself. I was the one to make the first step, I was the one who died to be with you, I was the one calling out to you first and not the other way around. I love you, can’t you accept it? I loved you first, don’t you remember that?”
Is it that easy? Have I frantically flown through six months of fabulous teaching and left the main point to be realized mere days before going home? Have I been jumping around reaching for a hand that has been in front of me all along? Have I accumulated 24 weeks of revelations and memories only to find that this was the main thread running through it all and holding it together? Have I rambled and ranted to God so much, and never given him the chance to tell me he loves me? I suppose that God’s voice last night was articulating what He has been teaching me over these weeks and months. Through the incredible joys and sorrows, he was leading me back to the simplicity of a relationship with Him. It was he that brought me on this six month journey. I wasn’t the only one trying to get closer. It’s not about my constant striving and working, it’s not about my whining and complaining. It’s about the fact that he loves me perfectly, beyond my understanding. So, there, Hannah, there’s your motive, that’s what you’re bringing home: love.
As the Ruin Falls by C. S. Lewis
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love --a scholar's parrot may talk Greek-
-But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.
Then, after the journey on the train, I settled down, I prayed. I prayed some selfish prayer. I prayed, ironically enough, more selfishly than before I came to Carlisle in order to learn how to pray. “God, I want this, God, give me this, God, O GOD, why don’t I have that. -Oh, and since I know that this is the attitude I should have about a Saviour who gave all for me- by the way, I want to want you in my life most of all, help me with that too.” The latter request became some sort of a side note, a trite recitation of a few lines… like extra paperwork that people sign in order to get what they really want. I said I wanted God most, simply as a means to gain the first and more selfish demands.
I’ve prayed this kind of prayer before. I remember one night in Africa I had a similar conversation with God. It was a little less desperate, and a little more humble than the words I nearly spat at him yesterday. That night in February, He spoke then more clearly than I have ever heard his voice before. He said that what I ask for isn’t wrong, but that he simply wants me to desire him the most. Basically, my priorities were wrong.
I was calling this conversation to memory last night, and I wondered what he would say this time. Would he say once again to want him the most, to get my priorities right? I already knew that was what I needed, but I realized now that knowing is very different than understanding and meaning. How could I desire him the most, what would my motive be? I have tried giving myself so many reasons to place God in the first place, talking myself into loving Him. But it was his voice again last night that brought clarity and understanding. He didn’t condemn me, he didn’t yell at me for being blind or weak… he simply said “You are my desire.” As if to say, “It’s not your idea, Hannah, you didn’t think this up for yourself. I was the one to make the first step, I was the one who died to be with you, I was the one calling out to you first and not the other way around. I love you, can’t you accept it? I loved you first, don’t you remember that?”
Is it that easy? Have I frantically flown through six months of fabulous teaching and left the main point to be realized mere days before going home? Have I been jumping around reaching for a hand that has been in front of me all along? Have I accumulated 24 weeks of revelations and memories only to find that this was the main thread running through it all and holding it together? Have I rambled and ranted to God so much, and never given him the chance to tell me he loves me? I suppose that God’s voice last night was articulating what He has been teaching me over these weeks and months. Through the incredible joys and sorrows, he was leading me back to the simplicity of a relationship with Him. It was he that brought me on this six month journey. I wasn’t the only one trying to get closer. It’s not about my constant striving and working, it’s not about my whining and complaining. It’s about the fact that he loves me perfectly, beyond my understanding. So, there, Hannah, there’s your motive, that’s what you’re bringing home: love.
As the Ruin Falls by C. S. Lewis
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love --a scholar's parrot may talk Greek-
-But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.
For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.
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