Dynamite: Soaring on Silver Wings

Recently I had the opportunity to soar above the clouds and watch majestic mountain ranges float by beneath me. As I was contemplating the amazing miracle of aerodynamics and the concept of being suspended in the sky, a train of thought started churning its wheels…

If I tried to break a window, jump out of the plane and fly, I'd be pronouncing my death sentence.

If I walked into the cockpit and started pushing buttons and levers because I thought we were going the wrong direction, I'd probably get myself in a predicament, dead or alive, that wouldn't be enviable.

Why? Because I have no knowledge of flying.



Later that week the same thought train picked up speed after reading this verse:

"Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong." {2 Corinthians 12:10}

Familiar? Yes, I'm sure it is for most people. I know I've read or heard it at least a hundred times.
Yet sometimes we never slow down enough to really internalize, really grasp the significance…

I turned to the literal Greek translation of this verse, eager to gain a deeper blessing.
And as I read through the Strong's definitions of the key words, I was struck by the poignancy of this concept.

Allow me to share my literal translation of this verse…

"This is the reason that I take delight in being left without strength, being the recipient of stinging insults, experiencing hardships, being chased and forced into narrow corners and situations for Christ's sake; because it's when I have no strength left that I am dynamite." {Glesni's Literal Translation}

Going back to the airplane analogy, it's when I realize that I can't fly by myself…
when I admit I don't even know how to guide the plane or run the controls…
when I merely sit back and admit that I know nothing — that's when I soar on silver wings.

This is how my life becomes dynamite.

A Different Dream

Sometimes I wonder how it can be so hard to let a dream die.

Just when you think you've come to the point of full surrender, of letting go, you wake up and realize that deep within the dream is still there. Suppressed maybe, but very much still there despite all heart-searing efforts to remove it.

It's an interesting feeling when your heart plays tug-of-war. One half sings. The other half cries. Yet in the end it knows what is best. It knows what will hurt least in the long run.

And that is to surrender. To let the dream die.
Because the dream was never mine to cherish in the first place…

In fact, no dream is mine to cherish.
No dream but One.

And so I pray a simple prayer.

Lord, make my life Your dream. And make my dream, You.

Photo Credit: Michel Lee

Ideal World

We are walking down our driveway treading gingerly over icy patches. And as the brisk air turns cheeks to rosy red, we dialogue. It's just the two of us, mother and daughter, surrounded by pine trees enclosed by gray sky.

My mind is full. Thoughts dart back and forth like a confused colony of bumblebees. I feel as though my life is falling apart, yet I remind myself that it is not. It just feels like it.

And as I expound on my feelings to my patiently listening mother, she starts to smile. I've always been a perfectionist, and this is no exception. But somehow I've lost perspective.

Her words gently bring me back to reality as she articulates those very things I need to hear.

I want to live an ideal life in an unideal world. And I realize that what I think is "ideal" really isn't realistic. Yet there is perfection in every step of the journey, and I must learn to love each chapter of life He brings.

So I am seeking to simply do my best and not rake myself over the coals wishing I could have "done better" when in reality I have already done my best. Because this is just another one of the devil's traps, convincing me that I am compromising when God says perfection is in the journey. It's easy to forget experientially, but I'm learning.

God looks at the heart, not the checklist.

And when He is in my life, my world is ideal.

Transfigured.

This morning it's like I'm there. Standing. Speechless.
Watching while my humble Teacher is unveiled to be the King of glory that He really is.

I want to take off my shoes, but I can't.
I want to do something, but I can't.
I want to say something, anything that would fit the moment, but I can't.
I'm glued to the ground, hands behind my back, lips sealed shut.

All I can do is observe in silence.

My eyes flit back and forth between faces like a dancing butterfly.
This glory, this radiance, is too much for me. Yet then I hear a voice speaking.

I turn to identify the source and abruptly realize, it's me. 

What in the world am I thinking, saying, doing? 
You don't just go and interrupt a divine experience like this!

I clamp my mouth in silence while my mind does a virtual replay.
Tents? Tabernacles? For Beings accustomed to golden mansions? Blinded moment.
If only I could rewind ten minutes and try again, prepare a script, something…

Suddenly I hear a voice from the sky declaring my Master to be His Son. Then all is hushed. Glory is gone.
I feel a penetrating gaze upon my flushed face. It's as if He can read my mind.

"It's only when you dare to speak, my child, dare to do for divinity, that you can be transfigured. Even if what you say is illogical and what you do is awkward. It's the heart I see, the heart I pay attention to.

"Don't be afraid to dare for Me, for as you do, you will be transfigured.
And it's when you're transfigured that you can truly begin to know My heart."

Dare to do. Dare to be.

Transfigured.

Seasoned with Salt

Swords clash while entire wars are fought over it.
People travel thousands of miles on camelback to trade gold for it, ounce-for-ounce.
Roman soldiers receive a "salarium," a partial paycheck of it (from which we derive our word salary).

14,000 uses. One mineral. And we are called to be it.

Salt.

--




Saltiness.

It's not a question of quantity, it's a question of quality.
Because if you have ever claimed the name of Christ, you have claimed His salt too.

We are all "salt-bearers" in a sense.
And I have to admit, I like salt. Somehow it makes everything tastes better.

"Salt is good, but if the salt loses its flavor, how will you season it? 

Have salt in yourselves, and have peace with one another.” Mark 9:50

But salt without its saltiness? Worthless. Impossible. (really?)

The chemical form of sodium chloride cannot be easily altered.
Only by dilution can the saltiness be compromised.

And only by mingling with the substance to which it is added, can it preserve and flavor.

It's a question of caliber.

If we want to exert a saving influence on the world, we must receive the saving salt.
The salt that has not lost its saltiness. And we must mingle in order to preserve.

The world is saved as individuals, not as masses, through personal influence, contact and association.

Salt that has lost its flavor can mingle with the world and not affect a soul.
It's a mere profession of godliness.

But a truly "salty" Christian? The world will not remain the same where he has visited.

"Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, 

that you may know how you ought to answer each one." Colossians 4:6

The Test of Discipleship

{Jeremiah 7}
 
“Obedience is the test of discipleship. It is the keeping of the commandments of God that proves the sincerity of our professions of love.”* 

 
The people were commanded to obey, yet not in a dictator-like way. The call to obedience was but an earnest plea to do what would be in their best interest.

“Yet they hearkened not…”

Discipleship is shown through obedience.
Keeping His commandments proves our love.
Transformation of character evidences our genuine commitment.

A true disciple will obey.
No questions. No delays.



*{Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing, 146}