This is a uniquely different blog than the others that I have written. Forewarning, it’s kind of lengthy. But it’s one of the most intentional blogs I’ve thought about writing. It’s a result of your attentiveness to this blog and your comments to my writing. So to every single person who reads this – thank you. Thank you thank you thank you!
I have never seen myself as a writer. I’ve written for myself, sporadically, for the past 9 years. My mom can attest to the frustrated little boy in middle school who couldn’t even form single paged, double spaced essays. It never came easy to me and I always struggled with the notion that what I’m attempting to convey is never quite captured in what I actually write.
What is this blog actually? I see it as three things.
1. First and foremost, it’s a testament to the Lord that He is always at work within His creation. True to our instant gratification nature, we want transformations to be black and white within a short amount of time. Most of us overestimate what we can accomplish in a year and underestimate what we can accomplish in 5, 10, 20 years. There is a beauty of enduring longevity. 10 years ago, as that kid struggling to write some simple essay, I never would have imagined writing would become such a monumental part of my life. Our God is always doing a new thing, if you allow Him to. Isaiah 43:19 – ‘Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?’ Praise the Lord who brings out writing from an engineer!
2. This a testament to the power of your words. Without your comments and encouragement towards my writing, I doubt I’d be at the place I am now, willing to share with you what I’ve written. Speak forth life and encouragement to all people, not because of what good you can do but because of what He can do through those who speak on His behalf.
3. This is a testament of change. 11 months ago I’d be very hesitant to post something like this online for the world to see. Is this contrary to what I just wrote about longevity? By no means no! The Lord is the Lord of the past, present and future, of the weak and the strong, of the instant transformations and the long enduring changes.
My question to you now is: what new thing is He creating in you? What will you allow the Lord to transform in you over the weeks, months, and years of faithfully following Him?
Without further ado, here is a preface of writing that I wrote right before I left on the race. Hopefully a sample of much much more. For the glory of the One who is worthy to be praised forever and ever. Amen!
As I continually attempt to express myself in writing I find it becoming a more true statement that words cannot merit the rich weight of reality, let alone the fullness of the Lord. Most people would agree. Humanity strives, and with much gusto, to encapsulate memories, events, and the like within the venues of stories but the process can never achieve more than an alternate dimension of these realities. Memories bring rolling laughter and gentle longing by reminiscing about the good times, but these stories thrive from embellishment.
That is why I am a terrible storyteller; I am too literal. I cannot romanticize or give life to the daily static routine. I grew up with the mantra of ‘Say what you mean and mean what you say’. The tendency of exaggeration was always a moment on the tip of my tongue but the words of C.S. Lewis would bring me to the present reality of truth, “Don’t use words too big for the subject. Don’t say ‘infinitely’ when you mean ‘very’; otherwise you’ll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite.”
With this mentality guarding the constructs of my words, I became, however, too narrowly focused. The inclination of my heart is to overcompensate in regards to these cautions. Compounded with my internal processing, the avenue of writing became too concise as an actual tool for teaching. Weighing the cost of words before they’re spoken demands brevity of speech. Details are lost to ensure the bigger picture of truth was understood. In my feeble attempts to let simple words, and not adorning language, be the fundamental expression of my description, I stunted the growth of creativity and lost the vision of imagination. In the manner of true self-fulfilling prophecy the very thing I labored to avoid became the sole hindering factor. To truly talk about something infinite is to draw from the elements of embellishment because no presentation is too excessive for the nature of ‘infinite’.
I concede to the limitations of words and expression through language. I recognize the two primary components: 1. My vernacular does no justice to thoughts, events, or ideas and 2. The things I struggle to describe are too definite for words. I do not excuse myself from attempting to fully relate my experiences. Recognizing a goal to be accomplished and the inability to reach that goal are to give the Spirit freedom to speak freely. I ask that as I step in ways beyond me, by melding simple phrases together in attempts to paint a picture, you would allow the Spirit to color in the lines. Jesus is my muse and as silly as that is, it creates a framework for the Holy Spirit to communicate what needs to be conveyed to the individual reader, prompting a change and a response and a desire that can never be birthed from solely reading words, especially my words. I trust in the power of the Spirit to use language, in all its restrictions and boundaries, as an avenue not merely for change but for transformation.
As much as I write for the blessing of others I write to create open doors, in the most unselfish motive, for the Lord to bring change in my heart. In the clutter of my mind I write to clean, to sort, to clear and ultimately to revisit the blessings of the Lord in the easiest manner possible. Mostly, writing comes when the disorder of my thoughts jumbles and impedes understanding of matters. In this case, writing fashions itself into a reflection of the work of Jesus in my heart and in my life.
There is a common analogy concerning the disorder in our lives; when the frays, tangles and knots appear to be nothing more than a jumble of thread. The reality, though, brings attention to mastery of the Creator who is constantly weaving a richly beautiful and astonishingly detailed tapestry on the other side. He’s brought in hues of blues and shades of red we never imagined possible. The tangles from years past are transformed into intricate patterns and graceful designs by His delicate hands.
The magnificent wonder lies in the Artist allowing us to be a part of the process. We are not merely inattentive drones, oblivious to the present workings in our lives. And though we respond to the beckoning whispers and calls in our lives – whether we step to the left or the right – the artistry must always be attributed to the Creator, never the creation. We know definitively our roles as the ones being shaped but we must not neglect also our part in allowing Him to shape us, for the Spirit can be quenched. Our primary identity is the canvas being painted upon or the song being sung. Let us not forget our responsibility to seek the Lord by simply allowing the Artist to paint or the Musician to play. Every so often, we must stop and turn the tapestry over to admire the work that He has done, to recognize the places we have come from, and to understand there is still so much to be accomplished.
The analogy culminates to the beginning of this writing. I reflect on my life, especially the last 4 years, and my proclivity is to reminisce. Reflecting and reminiscing, however, are two distinct actions. Reflection is the contrasting emotions of a sobering and joyous event for we recognize we are in the middle of our journeys. We have traversed through more than we thought we could ever handle, and we must wade through a multitude more than we will ever desire. And we press on because He is good – He is forever good. But to reminisce is to reap the harvest without recognizing the work of sowing and cultivating. True joy sprouts by remembering the tears shed, the weakness shown, and the boastful attempts of our work because it then becomes painfully obvious the harvest was always out of our hands. This reflection then becomes a blessing, first as a signpost to the harvest and then as a caution to save others from the heartache of working in their own strength.
My prayer for you and for me is this: May the Father fill you with joy inexpressible. May the Son become so beautiful and so lovely that He fills the entirety of your vision. May the Spirit empower not just your thoughts, words or actions but in magnificent ways beyond you; ways that you could never have thought possible.
