spring is in the air, and i once again want to change everything in the house. i love it when motivation returns, but seriously, i cannot change the whole house every year, or every time i want to...even though it makes me happy to think of being surrounded by new.
i did choose a painting, it's the one above called 'meet you there' by judy paul. it really reminds me of psalm one, which is my new life motto. i really love the tree shape, and would somehow like to incorporate that into my setting if i can. we'll see. i have not pushed the 'buy' button yet. still praying about it, and making sure.
anyway, something inside of me is holding me back from just making a bunch of superficial changes. i get the feeling that God wants me to make a permanent shift this time around. to start seeing things from a whole new perspective. what if i did? what would i see? would it be hard or easy to see things from God's perspective? how do i start?
i read this story on a friends' facebook page on friday. it really stuck with me. it's written from a fellow who had the unthinkable happen. i think this made the news nationally, but esp. around here, where the 2 brothers are from originally. they were 2 great guys - brothers - and one needed a kidney transplant. both had families, etc, and the healthy brother proved to be a perfect match for his older brother who was sick. somehow, something went horribly wrong during the transplant procedure, and the GIVER of the kidney died. the sick brother lived. in fact, he is doing well. although both men were strongly Christian before, now the brother who survived says this:
Ecclesiastes isn’t an easy read. A king looks back on his conquests and muses the significance of all his work. The wisest of kings splits the difference between Heaven and earth with razor edged Truth. He deduces that life is no more than “spitting into the wind.”
I have to tell you, as if maybe you didn’t already know, that I concur. Something happened inside me when Ryan died that I thought would revert back at some point, but it didn’t. Color bled off the pages of life. As many times as I’ve seen a globe, I now saw a flat earth. I still can’t label the feeling – grief, depression, detachment. But I didn’t think much of it because I knew the stages and figured it slid nicely somewhere into one of those slots.
But it’s not a phase. Yes, wounds heal and memories soften.
But I think maybe, that perspective is how God means for us to see life here. What I mean is, this place has become our everything. And I don’t think it was ever meant to be. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t embrace the rich moments with family and friends. But I think it does mean to keep an eternal perspective so eternity is the backdrop to everything we do.
I never saw life from this perspective until that night. Who knows if I would have ever ‘got it’? Those that do get it without having to go through something like this – well, they have incredible insight. And I admire them.you can go read his whole blog at: cometoofar.com
like chad, i want to 'get it.' i want to see beyond what looks to be the right direction, and see from God's seat what the right direction in life really is. that kind of choice involves more than just a casual prayer, or a once-a-week worship gathering. that kind of choice involves leaving this world behind. i admit that i kind of don't know how to do it. there are so many things i love here.
but today, pastor mentioned in his sermon that many, almost any of us, given a diagnosis of terminal anything, would not have a problem giving up our 'stuff.' we'd easily forfit the house or the job or the accolades or the goals or the WANTS just to LIVE.
i want to LIVE, really live, don't you? what if we just decided to do it, and asked God to help us?