a tangle of thoughts. . . and true North

It’s been long since I’ve written—really written—just for the fun of it. I think back to the days when Mom wrote down all the crazy stories I’d dictate, then to fables class, then on to other things like recording the life story of a missionary. Nowadays it’s papers and reading reports. Not that I hate these—no, it’s a wonderful, satisfying thing to put in a good long writing session on the spiritual gifts or the morality of the conquest of Canaan—but still I go back to those days I wrote from an overflow of observations and the peculiarities of life.

I look back over my writing from a year ago, things God was working in me, teaching me, and I realize I’m a different person. This year and a half at RBC has changed me in more ways than I could begin to capture. Living life to the hilt among brothers and sisters down among the Florida palm trees and hundreds of lizards has been the experience of a lifetime; so full, so real, and altogether true to the Christian’s expectations of trial and joy.

The past two weeks have been epic. It’s been a confusing, tumbling string of heartbreaking, terrifying, unbelievable events. Years from now I’m sure I’ll look back on the end of this semester as a time rather like a miniature boot camp; as a time He taught my heart to trust in deeper, fuller ways, and granted glimpses of His faithful workings on behalf of His people. I have never seen a more brilliant answer to the prayers of His people than I witnessed this week.

Right now things are a bit complicated, tangled, one could say. Part of me wants to bike to the dock and give it a good long think—lose time, find myself in all these raging thoughts and happenings.

Then again, methinks a good long session on four extensive study guides would be more appropriate at this moment.

Somewhere in all this I grope to find true North. I return to words I’d written three months before, when life seemed to carry a more even keel—(as if I wasn’t perpetually the one ready for an adventure. Well, this time it seems He’s given me all the action I can handle. And more. Then again, I was never the one “handling” any of this).

Waking up to the real. Finding myself in the search for the Source of all desire, all joy. This world is indeed stranger than we dream, and the enemy and the world and our flesh dull us to the true state of things. I read Colossians 3—the key to unlock. . . a cover is blown. Things seen are transient, fading; the spiritual is real, everlasting. One day the physical will be renewed and Revelation 21 will come true. But in the meantime our eyes have been opened. And anything that reminds us of the war and the prize and the joy set before—anything that helps us persevere—is a rare and beautiful thing. A friend, a conversation, a picture, a book, a movie, a meal, suffering, tears, loss, pain. . . most of all, the Word.

We are indwelt by the Spirit, guided by His hand. If there’s one thing that has soaked deep into my core this semester it’s been the realization of how simple it is. When one pursues God alone and His glory above all else, everything falls into place. The fear of the Lord is truly the beginning of wisdom—like He said all along.

Perhaps I’m not entirely lost after all. Finding a quiet spot to watch a sunset might not come amiss, however.

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.”  
 - C.S. Lewis

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

 – Colossians 3. 1-4