I run risk at this point in our series on Christian Spirituality of repeating myself. But since it is the New Year — and I have also interrupted our discussion with my most recent piece on… More
Have you ever wondered why God did not make us perfect the moment we received Jesus? I have.
There was a time in my life when I would have given anything to be perfect. Or at least, less imperfect. I wanted to be a radical follower of Jesus, one who was open and bold about my faith in God, one willing to pay any price for the sake of the Kingdom, just as Jesus had. I not only wanted to be; I needed to be. For in my way of thinking, to be perfect was to be perfectly accepted. Continue reading “The Christian Soul: Perfection”
‘Twas the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen:
The most brilliant light shining bright
Upon white snow and evergreen
As we made our way through an endless pastoral night.
Honestly, I could not tell
(This is no joke) when those angelic praises broke
Whether I’d be caught up to Heaven
Or be sent straight to hell.
But then that celestial figure spoke
And all my fears did quell.
It was like a dream
Or no, like from a dream we did awaken.
The very core of who we were was shaken
And all our judgments not as they now seem.
Like stepping into full color from monochrome —
A realm of blues and greens and reds and vibrant gold,
Ripe with things that have all been foretold,
Unearthly place that we now call our home.
But what about you? Certainly you
Have seen the starlight creeping underneath the door
And in your doubt have known there must be more
And sensed that is was for you, too?
This season know, whether you to fire-lit settings are led (or driven)
Or wander endless pastoral nights forlorn
To us this day a Son has now been given,
To us this very night a child is born.
The cold has been creeping into the early mornings hours where I live these past few days as we inch our way toward Christmas. Which is always a small miracle in Southern California. As I step outside and breathe the crisp air betraying just a hint of the ocean, I am struck by the beauty of it all.
On mornings like this I am reminded why I write. Not just write, but write the way I do: At times with near scientific precision on matters that, to be honest, belong to the domain of awe and wonder, not scientific inquiry.
But I do so because there was a time when I could not find beauty in anything. A soul distracted and encumbered cannot perceive, let alone appreciate, the beauty around it. Continue reading “The Christian Soul: Peace”