November 21, 2008
Impressions
My 5 year-old grandson was one of only three students in his kindergarten class to be able to write his name in cursive. Pulling his practice sheet from his backpack David said, “You are going to be soooo impressed!” Well, yes I was…and I know exactly how David feels. Whenever I walk away from a temptation, stop a sin in progress or turn the other cheek I have the same desire to tell God, ‘You are going to be soooo impressed!’
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3 comments:
Gail;
-----Tackling cursive by the time of kindergarten is impressive. Usually a child has to develop more digital dexterity before cursive is possible. I thought I had to develop more spiritual dexterity before I could tackle my cursive problem, that is, my problem with cursing. But when the Lord uncovered enough of my deep soul by throwing upon me an unbearable work load last September, we accessed that switch and flipped it off. But, like little David’s ability to do his name in cursive has not leant him the ability to do trigonometry, my onion of sin still has plenty of layers left to peel. So, even though I was impressed with the Lord at getting one of my deep switches flipped, the rest of my onion came into the clear view of my mind rather than even an inkling of His being impressed with me. On the other hand, in light of how big our onions really are, maybe He is a bit impressed that we hang in there at all.
Love,
Steve Corey
The really cool thing is that when we give the Lord our onion and ask Him to peel it, He's faithful to do so! Oh, how that peeling away can hurt. But on the other hand, what freedom we feel as the layers of smelly stuff we've been covered with for so long begin to be pulled off and thrown into the garbage bin. While we're in the peeling process, it's tempting to take our onion and stick it back in the onion bin. But do we really want to be stuck inside all those layers for the rest of our lives? What's interesting is how little we truly know about what each of those layers is in our lives. Yep, we sometimes look at how we live as Christians and think God (and everyone else) will surely be sooo impressed. Then God uncovers a new layer... and yuck. What we see and smell there sure dispels any idea we have that we could be impressive. For myself, I just hope he keeps peeling until there's nothing left but whatever He wants there. What joy there is in feeling His gentle hands lovingly peeling away....
In Him,
Arlene
Arlene;
-----You sure have something right! As I read your comment, I recognized each point you made. Dealing with that onion has been a conundrum for me. I never should have wanted to be involved in the peeling process. At least I think. In my early twenties, I waited for the Lord to do everything in my life. Nothing got done. As I began to rebuild the mess my idiocy till then had made, I became convinced the Lord and I had to work on it as a team. The Scriptures only convinced me more by saying, “…you repent,“ “…you be patient,“ “…you persevere,“ “…you love,“ etc. Yet I acknowledge the teamwork, because it also says I can do nothing without Him. I always wanted to know why those layers were there, how they interrelated, how to prevent them from growing again, and what about each layer was the truth that got twisted into an onion layer. But that was the lesser of the reason I never just handed my onion totally to the Lord for peeling. Since then, I’ve looked to my own peeling work far too much; your reminder that He is the bigger half of the team is refreshing, if not revitalizing.
-----“Oh, how that peeling away can hurt.” You nailed the major reason I’ve always bogartted the peeling knife. I often have enough insight to foresee what painful circumstances would lay my soul bare enough to access certain switches and eliminate whole layers of the onion. Although I can bear 16 hour work days, riding a motorcycle in sub-freezing weather, and doing manual labor while suffering chronic shoulder pain, I am a big baby about pain in my soul. I know how much it hurts when the Lord yanks off a layer! So I go whittle, whittle, whittle as fast as I can on that onion skin, both trying to remove what I perceive is bad and spare what I perceive is good, all the while thinking He is looking over my shoulder and hoping He’ll be patient.
-----And as you said, we truly know little about what each of those layers is in our lives. I like knowing as much as I can about the Lord, what He has made around me, and what He makes of me. I admit there is a certain amount of enjoyment I get out of onions. They’re good on burgers and other stuff. And that is partially why I try to sneak my onion back into the bin. But even more, I keep thinking to Him, “There is something I still don’t understand about the twist in this particular onion layer, could I examine it more with You until I see the untwisted truth of it?” For years, when I was trying to deal with my foul language, I kept perceiving and trying to practice what I could barely understand about the expression that underlay it. Several times during my life that perception would come into clear, untwisted view for a few moments. Like you said, what freedom there was in that untwisted truth! What ability it held! The untwisted truth of that layer was simply the need for emotional detachment from the frustrating event (which is blocked by the anger of cursing) and the need for creative mental engagement (which is blocked by the rote list of foul thought.) Now that the cursing is gone, I take the option to go emotionally calm in a frustrating event and engage it with a creatively thinking mind. What freedom!
-----I understand other wonders lay in the onion. And I understand, the way I do things, He’s going to have to yank off lots more layers. Yet, somehow I still sit nervously whittling, whittling, whittling wondering about the depths of that onion, that if somewhere in it a layer will be yanked, the one that is the way I peel onions.
-----I think I need to trust more in His gentleness. Thank you, Arlene.
Love,
Steve Corey
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