Monthly Archives: January 2015

Fanta and Mirrors

In the last week, there have been a couple moments of simple beauty that struck me.

The first, I was stopped at a traffic light, waiting for the infernal red light to turn green, when three boys around the age of 12 come out of the corner gas station.  They all wore t-shirts and long, baggy, teenage boy shorts, and were each carrying a bottle of orange Fanta. They walked across the street and into the neighborhood of houses, and I no longer could see them.  I don’t know what it was about that sight, except that it felt precious, innocent, and rare to me.  Three boys just hanging out.  Friendship.  No technology in sight.  It was almost like a moment from the past reached into the present.  I wish more of my youth kids had moments like those – moments of pure friendship.  Moments of walking to the corner store to buy a soda after school.  Moments of hanging out and having conversation without technology somehow infringing on their bond.  And sure, these kids were probably headed to some basement where they would blow bad guys up for a couple hours.  But even that walk, to the store to get a Fanta, that was moment enough to actually build friendship.

It left me smiling for the rest of the day.

The second I again was in my car (I spend quite a lot of my time in my car these days).  I was driving by a small lake (pond in any other part of the country) and noticed how absolutely still the water was.  When I say it was a mirror, that there wasn’t a single ripple on the water, I’m not being metaphorical; I’m being quite literal.  I have never seen such still water.  I could see the reflection of every single tree and bush that graced the edge of the lake.  I could see every single cloud in the sky perfectly reflected in the water.  It was as if some giant had carefully placed a mirror on the ground.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  And I was reminded that I was made to reflect my savior as this lake was reflecting its surroundings.  I wondered how well I’ve been doing that recently.  Am I such a reflection as this pond?  Or am I a more stormy or muddy pond that is too anxious or contaminated to reflect His beauty well?

It was a pretty sight, and one that has challenged me.

I love when I notice the little moments; they are usually the ones that dig into me most, the ones I remember and stick with me.

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Come Thou Fount

A couple weeks ago I talked briefly about “ebenezer”s, and how we all need things (physical things) in our lives to remember what God has done.

Well, I think maybe “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” might be a theme for a while in my life. I’ll post the lyrics at the end, just in case you didn’t grow up in a liturgical church and have never heard this particular hymn.

Anyway, I say that because it has been an interesting week. It’s the week before I start back to school. There have been some absolutely fantastic and fun moments in it. There have also been several honest moments. And more than a few that left me emotionally drained and just finished.

But as I was driving home from work last night, briefly headed toward the mountains, the last glow of the sun leaving the mountains a pointy silhouette on the horizon, I saw a shooting star. You don’t see shooting stars much in city bounds, but I saw one last night.

And it reminded me that no matter what, no matter what was going on in my week, good or bad, memorable or simply ordinary, God is good; God loves me, and that is enough.

So, as I go into school and my already full schedule flexes to take on more reading and class attendance and paper writing, I need to remember that God is good.

He is to be our focus and motivation for everything. And as long as that is true, all might not be easy or comfortable or make others happy, but it can be good.

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.

2.            Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I’m come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.

3.            O to grace how great a debtor
daily I’m constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

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Fog

I’ve had to drive in the fog a couple times in the last week. Which, in Colorado, is weird. I usually drive in the fog MAYBE once every six months; to have driven in the fog several times in the last months is completely weird and slightly global-warming-end-of-the-world-the-dinosaurs-are-going-to-return ish. Weird.

The point of me saying that though is that about the fourth trip into the mountains with fog clouding my view I began to wonder if God was trying to tell or teach me something. Rule of three – if three times something is mentioned, out of the blue, in some sort of weird circumstance, God’s probably trying to communicate something. I’m just not used to the rule of three applying to nature as well. Probably why it took me more than three…and someone mentioning fog in conversation completely separate from my driving experiences for me to take notice.

Anyway, as much as I love fog during the day, it can be rather intimidating at night. Fog during the day you can’t see stuff. Fog at night…well, you really can’t see trees looming at the side of the road or the occasional deer on the road or even the car one hundred feet a head of you.

And lately, this is how my life has felt. I have seen maybe a half step ahead of me, and while I take that step, it is kinda scary, and makes absolutely no sense and a tad bit unsettling.

But, as much as I might complain about my life being in the fog, I think I prefer it to being able to see everything. For instance, sometimes if we see how far we have to walk, if we see how far we have to go, we become paralyzed with how much we have to overcome before we reach our goal. Like climbing a tall mountain. We can see the summit, and it feels so far away and like we’ll never reach it.

And honestly, God works both ways. Sometimes we see the end, but not often. Sometimes we’re in the fog and have to trust Him about the next step on the road ahead of us.

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Here I raise my ebenezer

Ebenezer. I type that most people reading will think of an old, skinny dude with slightly used clothing who is always grumpy and grumbling about the cost of coal (thus, heat) and undigested potatoes. Or you think of a duck counting money.

But today is not about Ebenezer Scrooge, but about his name which, I suspect, Dickens might have given to him on purpose.

See, the word “ebenezer” is an actual thing. It’s a thing that you keep around to help you remember what God has done for you, or in you. So, when the Israelites crossed the Jordan into the promised land, and God had each of the 12 tribes pick up a stone and build an alter to remember what He did that day – He was asking them to build an ebenezer. He was asking them to remember what He had done for them.

God knows just how easily we humans forget things, especially during times of hardship or pain. And so, having things around to help you remember what God has done in you is incredibly important. Otherwise we begin to doubt God’s goodness.

No bueno.

As you begin this new year, think over last year. Where were you a year ago? How has God helped you grow? And then, figure out something to keep around to help you remember where He has brought you from.

For me, pictures are a big deal. Every year for the last four years (if you count this one too) at the beginning of January, I have gone through all the pictures I took of the year that just ended, and put them together in a memory book. Memories are important. Our journeys are important. The stuff God does in our lives – the big and the small, mundane everyday stuff that we might not even really notice – is important.

This year, take some time out to remember. Figure out an ebenezer – you’ll need it in the coming year. God is good, but sometimes we need reminders of just how good He is.

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