“A time may come for valor without renown.”

 

What does it mean to be set apart like Paul talks about in the New Testament?  I mean, REALLY set apart.  Shouldn’t it look different from the world?  Not just in what we say (or write), but in how we live our daily lives, how we dress, how we act when no one special is looking. 

 

I know very few people who actually seem to be trying to live for God alone (as in, not for anyone else), and even fewer who are actually living a set-apart life.  I think I could easily be the guiltiest of them all.  It is a rare moment when I’m thinking about what would please God—or, just as importantly, what would bring attention to Him rather than to me, as I decide what to wear to an event, or how to treat certain people (guys and gals), what to say to someone, what to email someone, what to do with my time, etc. 

 

Very little of my daily living reflects a deep love for my King.  Mostly it just reflects my desires, with some moral principle mixed in for good measure.  God becomes in my mind someone who is awesome, powerful, makes good conversation topics—at least I can sound like I’m saved.  But a daily God? 

That takes too much effort.  It takes being intimate with Him, and I think there’s too much garbage in my heart, too many idols in my life, too many other lovers in my mind

to give God that kind of space.  He just has His little corner. 

C’mon, He’s not even relegated to Sunday mornings or periodic quiet times.  He gets thoughts throughout the day.  But He doesn’t have ALL of me.  I don’t really want Him above anything—or anyone. 

But He’s God, right?  He understands.  But…am I missing out on something?

 

I want to be one of those rare, set-apart for God people.  But I’m afraid to really turn it all over to Him.  What if He wants me to give something up—not because it’s a bad thing in itself, but because it’s distracting me from Him?  Would I be willing to do that?  For Him?  Am I willing to give Him EVERYTHING???

All my life I’ve been different.  Whether it’s big differences or small.  So far I’ve been okay with that.  I’ve gained the notion that some people like me even more just because I’m different.  But what if no one noticed that I was different?  or worse, what if I were ridiculed by everyone on this earth, and only God was saying “well done”?  Is His approval enough for me?  Would I want to continue being different just for Him? 

“To be my disciple, to be a set-apart one, costs everything you have.  Don’t delude yourself into thinking it will only cost you a portion of your existence!  The very essence of a disciple is one that has completely emptied their inner sanctuary of all other lovers to make room for Me, their heavenly Prince.”    -Luke 14:33, paraphrase

‘ello, my freaky daahlings….

Well, I started piano lessons again today.  Teaching, not taking.  I kind of wish I were taking, but then I’d be spending money instead of making it.  And money, not music is the key thing these days.  (Traveling does that.)

I start French class on Thursday.  This one I am not teaching.  (HA!  Michelle would laugh.)  But I don’t have to pay for this because I am teacher’s pet.  Well, more like teacher’s slave.  I grade homework in exchange for lessons.  Not bad, eh?  I just wish I retained more of what she’s teaching us.  This semester I’m praying that I’ll be more diligent in homework.  YOU CANNOT CRAM FOR A FOREIGN LANGUAGE!!!  You lose practice and discipline when you haven’t had to do school in…seven years?

Sisters and I also have to sing Thursday afternoon.  We sing once a month at a nursing home in Friendswood.  I usually force myself to go and then end up having a blast.  You know, old people are like kids only worse.  They fight with each other and sneak cake behind the director’s back.  And they tell you they’ve been to your house and ask when can they come back and have you seen their son lately.  I’m amazed that I can can go into a “ministry” and come out more ministered to than I feel I ministered.  What I was trying to say with that word-crazy sentence was, I’m think I’m more blessed by singing and visiting with these people than they are blessed by me being there.  Isn’t that awesome?  God really does work in mysterious ways.

It’s late and that fact is starting to reflect in my thinking.  So before I make a fool of myself (as I usually do when I’m over-tired, according to Jon), I will stop sharing my thoughts. 

**edit–I acutally posted this on the sixth…after midnight.  technically the seventh, but to me it’s still Tuesday.

picture of Greece.  I want to live here for a couple of months.  Or I may change my mind once I get there, and decide to live there for the rest of my life!

 

 

 

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This morning I read the following story in one of my Mom’s parenting books.  I cracked up:

 

Ten-year-old Peter wanted to make a special birthday card for his ninety-seven-year-old great grandpa, a former golfer.  With no coaching from anyone, he wrote,

             

       “Grandpa Mac, your life has been a ninety-seven-yard line drive

                   and you have about a three-foot putt left.”

 

 

 

*laughing*

 

baby arms around my neck,

baby fingers in my hair

playing…

drooling.

all I want to do is watch her face, to see

the wonder and delight of God’s world in her eyes

chubby grin, dimples…

she’s so cute I want to eat her.

when she fusses

or throws her little fit

I roll my eyes and make things better, knowing

that she will have to change

because life will always have it’s issues.

I would do anything for her

my love for her could never die

I would give my life for her…

 

I think God must feel some of that about me.  “And that is a comforting thought.”

There is nothing more sad to me than losing the respect of someone.  Especially when you’re not sure you can gain it back, or even how to try.  The worst of it is, when the respect is slowly lost of a period time, will it take twice as long to gain it back?  I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

Why are family relationships the hardest?  Why are the ones we love (or are supposed to love) the most the hardest ones to be loving towards?  Why does it seem like I have all of my parents’ faults and none of their good?  Why does God let me sometimes be this person that I hate?

If I hate my sin enough, will I stop sinning?  Or will I just feel like a failure and stop trying so hard? 

Am I trying too hard?  God said He would make me holy, but isn’t there supposed to be some effort on my part to obey?  Aren’t we supposed to strive for righteousness?

On the wall in my room:

 

Proverbs 2:1-5

My [daughter], if you receive my words,

       And treasure my commands within you,

    So that  you incline your ear to wisdom,

And apply your heart to understanding;

            Yes, if you cry out for discernment,

       And lift up your voice for understanding,

     If you seek her as silver,

And search for her as for hidden treasures;

            Then you will understand the fear of the Lord,

        And find the knowledge of God.

 

 

I will be grateful for this trial, this battle against my flesh.  I welcome anything that turns my face towards my Savior.

 

“I dare you, while there is still time, to have a magnificent obsession.”

 

While washing the ash out of my hair this morning (thanks to our fun with legal explosives last night) and scrubbing the mud off my shoes this afternoon (thanks to the location–safe but wet), I contemplated the joys of ending one year and beginning a new one.  For some of us each day is a completely new beginning, complete with God’s new mercies.  However, I must admit to a sense of renewal each time we come to January 1st.  I even got over my “making-new-year’s-resolutions-is-so-old” attitude and make them, too.  (Does this mean I’m old now?) 

What did I resolve this year?  To stop thinking about myself, basically. To serve others.  Wouldn’t most of us like to be that kind of person?  If only it didn’t take so much work to become (and remain) so.  Of course, God took me up on my offer to be this person and provided me with ample opportunity. 

So instead of spending my day in quiet reflection, contemplating the best way to write down on my resolutions and goals for the new year,  I spent two hours cleaning a shower (yeah, it was really that bad) and the rest of my day helping with my younger siblings. (Can’t complain…the baby is too much fun.) 

And while this is not how I would have chosen to spend my day, I find that I have spent the day acting on my newly-founded resolutions.  God knew best after all, eh?  How does He do that?

 

 a Happy New Year to all, and to all, a good night.

 

What I learned today:
He who would succeed must be the best server.  I also learned how to change the ink in the printer from photo ink to regular ink.