I occasionally suffer from "flying fingers syndrome." Last week I realized that my email signature, "In Christ's Joy," was transposed "Im Christ's Joy." That feels like kind of a bold statement, little touch of hubrs there. So I changed it back. But the typo stayed with me. Why shouldn't I claim God's promise to delight in me? Who was it that used to say, "God doesn't make junk?" That simple letter switch teased out an opening in my soul and made me admit I dismiss God's handiwork way too easily.
You'd think I'd learn.
BUT yesterday, signing off on a message in a rush I shortened the greeting to "Im Christ." That's a whole new level of typo. The soul door slammed shut again and again the typo stayed with me. I am not Christ. But I now from experience that the evidence of Christ in my life may be the first glimpse someone gets. And.....don't I claim to be part of the Body of Christ. What about all the years spent trying to "put on Christ?" The opening into my soul slipped open again.
I found myself remembering one of my favortite seminary classes. We were asked to proclaim Jeremiah chapter 9 with a creative art project. This is a tough passage. God speaks through the prophet's voice, "O that my heard were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my people. O that I had inthe desert a travelor's lodging place, that I might leave my people and go away from them......" I'll let you visit Jeremiah and read God's accusations for yourself. (Its a great companion to James chapter 3's teaching about what comes out of our mouths.)
My project became a simple tent of indigo died sheer cotton, ribbon tears of intercesory prayer streaming from the top of the pole. It was just big enough for one person to sit inside. When you entered the tent, you sat on a surface of newspapers with their own witness to the violence we inflict on each other and the ways we tear at God's heart.
Being in Christ is not always easy. Most of the time we'd rather run ahead and dare God to catch up. But I'm Christ's Joy. I'm (in) Christ. In the rush of living, if we don't risk letting Jesus live in and through us who will?
You'd think I'd learn.
BUT yesterday, signing off on a message in a rush I shortened the greeting to "Im Christ." That's a whole new level of typo. The soul door slammed shut again and again the typo stayed with me. I am not Christ. But I now from experience that the evidence of Christ in my life may be the first glimpse someone gets. And.....don't I claim to be part of the Body of Christ. What about all the years spent trying to "put on Christ?" The opening into my soul slipped open again.
I found myself remembering one of my favortite seminary classes. We were asked to proclaim Jeremiah chapter 9 with a creative art project. This is a tough passage. God speaks through the prophet's voice, "O that my heard were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my people. O that I had inthe desert a travelor's lodging place, that I might leave my people and go away from them......" I'll let you visit Jeremiah and read God's accusations for yourself. (Its a great companion to James chapter 3's teaching about what comes out of our mouths.)
My project became a simple tent of indigo died sheer cotton, ribbon tears of intercesory prayer streaming from the top of the pole. It was just big enough for one person to sit inside. When you entered the tent, you sat on a surface of newspapers with their own witness to the violence we inflict on each other and the ways we tear at God's heart.
Being in Christ is not always easy. Most of the time we'd rather run ahead and dare God to catch up. But I'm Christ's Joy. I'm (in) Christ. In the rush of living, if we don't risk letting Jesus live in and through us who will?
A Promise to the Universe
ReplyDeleteBrennan Manning
In our faithful listening to God's Word, we often neglect his first word to us--the gift of ourselves to ourselves: our existence, our temperament, our personal history, our uniqueness, our flaws and foibles, our identity. Our very existence is one of the never-to-be-repeated ways God has chosen to express himself in space and time. Because we are made in God's image and likeness, you and I are yet another promise that he has made to the universe that he will continue to love it and care for it.
Source: Ruthless Trust
When my cousin's daughter made her first Communion in the Catholic church, she memorized the Lord's Prayer, only she would say "my will be done..." Cute in a seven-year-old though probably true for a lot of us well past that age.
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