It amazes me how a tiny thing can blow up into a giant, swelling mass of distraction in a matter of minutes. It's frightening how one's brain can take something so small and insignificant, and meld it into a pivotal, life-altering series of thoughts. We can create whole worlds with enough imagination, and we can revel in the great surges of control these frivolous processes offer us.
I called my aunt about my latest distraction, and I asked her what it could mean. Was it a sign from God, or was it a diversion from Him? She said, "In a matter of time, you'll know whether it is a sign from God or a red herring." She couldn't have been more right. A few minutes later I found out it was none other than a red herring. She's a woman who understands things.
Sometimes we "lay out our fleece" (see Judges 6) to see if it will get wet overnight. Sometimes it does get wet, sometimes it doesn't. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, we unknowingly walk to our fleece and pour water on it ourselves. We wake up in the morning and rejoice saying, "It's wet! It's wet!" We think we've been very clever and spiritual. Then we have to learn the hard way that we are simply chronic sleep-walkers. The story of the laying out of the fleece is a beautiful depiction of God's patience and goodness, and I've laid out a few of my own in the past. But like Gideon, we have to learn not to use the same tactic over and over. We lose the gift of trust. And what a gift it is.
I have often wondered if the two go hand in hand. My dad has always believed that they do. That somehow, through our suffering, God is able to reach to our furthest depths and hold us closer than ever. Spiritually, this can produce inexplicable joy. Psalm 34:18 says "The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart and saves such as have a contrite spirit."
I received heartbreaking news today from two different people about two different crises. I won't expound on the situations here, but merely meditate on the mystery of suffering and what it means for those who believe in God.
I've just finished a brilliant novel, Island of the World by Michael D. O'Brien, and never before have I looked at suffering the way I do now. Never have I been left with such an aching and a longing to understand why God allows those He loves to suffer. I certainly don't profess to understand, but I do know that having heard what I heard today, I will hold those I love closer to my heart than I have in a long time. And I will continue to cling to God ever more fiercely, so that when suffering does come, I will be open to God's infinite outpouring of love.
Artwork by Michael D. O'Brien, www.studiobrien.com
The author chose to call this piece "Transcendence." It is the cover art for the above mentioned novel. His commentary on this painting reflects upon human nature and the soul's longing for eternity. I'd add that transcending is precisely what suffering drives us to do, especially if we seek God to carry us as He would a bird with wings on the wind.
It's the end of my work day, I have things to finish up and I have a huge exam to study for, so obviously, I'm creating a blog.
I know that at least my family and close friends will find this blog remotely enjoyable. My writings will mostly be about sharing thoughts, ideas and stories.
For example, this weekend I was in Montréal with my brother and his wife and kids. My nephew was performing in a dance, and then we did some dancing of our own to T.Rex.
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| Aidan and me |
I should mention that this is the oldest of four nephews (note: one is still in the oven) and a niece that is a real fire cracker. I love being an aunt - I can honestly say it's the highlight of my life.
Feel free to read my blog and enjoy it if you will. If you have no intention of reading it, I have no intention of minding. If you are drawn, however, keep a sharp eye for upcoming blogs!
It amazes me how a tiny thing can blow up into a giant, swelling mass of distraction in a matter of minutes. It's frightening how one's brain can take something so small and insignificant, and meld it into a pivotal, life-altering series of thoughts. We can create whole worlds with enough imagination, and we can revel in the great surges of control these frivolous processes offer us.
