Where Have I Been?

August 28, 2010 at 11:33 am (Flowers of Thought) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Taken from a journal entry–a year ago–and convicting me again today…

Where have I been?  Out seeking success apart from the Lord?  Seeking the world while neglecting my soul?  Doing from first thing in the morning, till late at night, while my Bible and headcovering lie mostly neglected on my desk.  It’s so easy to prioritize the visible.  Always I cling to success and goals and dreams.

But Father, if this thing, this success, be what distracts me from You, what woos and wins my heart away from my Bridegroom, then I hold it out to You in reverence, in awe, in fear and in trust.  Take it.  Always You have whispered in my ear that I must have no gods beside You.  Always I have learned that idols made with human hands have no life.  Always You remain the Life that breaths, the truth that lives, the power that reigns.  I creep again into the lately forsaken chamber of my heart and kneel beside the cold, hard altar where I burn my thoughts and dreams and goals for Your glory.  I must lay this one, too, this dream, on the wood of the altar.  I will soak it with the water of tears and watch while You kindle the fire to make it pleasing to You.  “The Lord, He is God.”  He is a jealous God.  A God who deserves every ounce of my being.

Lord, whate’er between us stands
Whate’er I grasp in these two hands
Must not be treasured, for I find
The things I cling to, these things bind.

Far from treasure, I must view
All things as loss in light of You
Worthless, measured by Thy grace
Colorless beside Thy face.

So Father, teach me first to prove
That I am conquered by Thy love
And so enslaved to do Thy will
That all my dreams must Thee reveal.

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Idols Ashes

February 27, 2010 at 1:00 am (Flowers of Thought) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

flowers-of-thought-2

Here I am again, building a funeral pyre on which to sacrifice a vision.  Like the pilgrims of so long ago, I leave a trail of graves behind me as I travel—each one where I have buried a hope, a dream, a goal, a plan, a love.  The only eternal unchangeable in life is Yahweh.  And that is as it should be.

I have been restless.  I have been discontent.  I have fashioned for myself that which I thought would finish or fulfill me.  Like the idols that see not, hear not, taste not, save not, my dreams demand my devotion, yet offer nothing in return.  I bow before them.  I kiss them.  I plead with them.  I dance in delight as I look at them.

I think of Israel’s discontent while waiting for Moses on Mount Sinai.  For themselves they built a splendid golden calf–the picture of their unfaithfulness.  Always discontent is unholy, for it denies that Yahweh is all.  Always that elusive image of supposed fulfillment or security must be torn down, must be ground to ashes, must be burned on the altar in worship to Yahweh.

Lord, through shadow lands Thou leads me
Bitter waters dost Thou feed me.
Idol’s ashes now distilling
Make Thy water pure and filling.

Seems I’ve seen this place before,
Thou hast washed me clean and pure
In this same bitterness and sorrow.
Thou must wash anew, tomorrow.

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