I was talking with an older Christian woman yesterday, who was telling me about a new Bible Study she has been attending at her church. "What are you studying?" I asked. "The book of John," she said. "Are you enjoying it?" I asked next. "Not really...in fact, I am thinking of quitting it. They want to look at it in detail. So much of John is such a comfort to me that I don't want to know anything that might 'muddy' that up....."
Wow. Don't want to know. There is nothing about God that I don't want to know. There is nothing about scripture that I don't want to know. There is absolutely nothing about Jesus that I don't want to know!
I guess comfort is not my end goal in study...Truth is. Truth is sometimes hard, sometimes a relief, sometimes causes conflict, sometimes makes peace. Truth sets free. Truth brings freedom. That freedom is our liberator from the dishonesties of the worlds of our own making, with us as the center sun and the creator of ourselves. Freedom from the foolishness of looking at today and thinking this is all we have. Freedom to be challenged to learn till our dying breath about some of the things that are not comfortable in this world.....and in our very imperfect lives!
It all boils down to this: Love The Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind; love yourself; and love your neighbor at least as much or more than you love yourself.
So simple....and sometimes so uncomfortable!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
Half Caff with Room for Cream
Last weekend was a whirlwind! Jon was teaching his Tarleton State University Paradigm Bible Study on Thursday night till 10pm. Then, he got in his pickup and drove 8 hours to Ruidoso, NM to speak twice on Friday to a corporate retreat. He was back in his car immediately, driving the 8 hours back to Granbury, TX to speak at 11am at a marriage conference with me!
If that made you exhausted to read, join the rest of the logically-thinking world!
When we finally got home late that afternoon, he had made grand plans for us...a nice dinner out, walking around our town square, coffee on the patio under the stars.........
I could see before we hit the house that he was white with exhaustion, and, in my heart, I knew none of that would happen.
I offered to go get his cleaning before they closed, and I picked up dinner while I was out. When I got home, I set the table and we ate, with me explaining that I was "too tired" to eat out. We talked a few minutes, before the inevitable happened...HE FELL ASLEEP!
But I didn't care. Who cares about eating out and walking around with a zombie!
I JUST WANTED TO BREATHE THE SAME AIR WITH HIM.
For most of you, you take that "common air" for granted, because you breathe it at the end of every day together. But it is rarified air to me. It is experiencing the flesh and blood, instead of waving to his location's regional map on the Weather Channel. It is hearing that small puff that represents his version of a snore, rather than settling for exchanging "good night, I love you" on the phone. It is watching over him while he sleeps and letting the rest of the world go on its merry way.
For that one glorious moment, we are breathing the same air. Can anything be better than that!?!
If that made you exhausted to read, join the rest of the logically-thinking world!
When we finally got home late that afternoon, he had made grand plans for us...a nice dinner out, walking around our town square, coffee on the patio under the stars.........
I could see before we hit the house that he was white with exhaustion, and, in my heart, I knew none of that would happen.
I offered to go get his cleaning before they closed, and I picked up dinner while I was out. When I got home, I set the table and we ate, with me explaining that I was "too tired" to eat out. We talked a few minutes, before the inevitable happened...HE FELL ASLEEP!
But I didn't care. Who cares about eating out and walking around with a zombie!
I JUST WANTED TO BREATHE THE SAME AIR WITH HIM.
For most of you, you take that "common air" for granted, because you breathe it at the end of every day together. But it is rarified air to me. It is experiencing the flesh and blood, instead of waving to his location's regional map on the Weather Channel. It is hearing that small puff that represents his version of a snore, rather than settling for exchanging "good night, I love you" on the phone. It is watching over him while he sleeps and letting the rest of the world go on its merry way.
For that one glorious moment, we are breathing the same air. Can anything be better than that!?!
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