| | My daughter turns one in six days. Her hair curls at the back when she's fresh from sleep, sweaty and sweet as I hold her close. She squirms continuously, always trying to wiggle her way around to face the front - I want to see the world, Dad. Don't want to miss anything. She reminds me that newness is a daily possibility. Her birthday party is going to be both celebratory and interesting, as family members will share the room with one another who purposefully work to not do so. May Jesus be glorified despite our brokenness.
I find myself wishing that our choices, behaviors, and actions would more closely align with our words and stated beliefs/desires. I could say that I wish that the choices of others did this, but this gun's barrel naturally points backwards as well as forwards. I don't desire to simply be a person who talks about social justice, loving my neighbor, reaching across denominational lines, and serving selflessly. I want to do these things as a natural extension of my love for Christ, which in turn is my feeble recognition of his love for me. A feeble recognition that he somehow still delights in, calling me his own. I've realized more lately that I talk a great deal about doing better things for the world, the people who surround me, and for the glory of Jesus, but don't actually make the application of these ideas and statements a quiet, daily practice in my life. I like others to hear me talk about them in order that they might view me as "deep", "holy", or, more simply, "a good guy". I'm selfish and self-centered that way, and I loathe the insecurity that births it. I do not desire to utilize the love of Christ for the purpose of my own glorification. Make me a man who is more like you, Lord Jesus, than he is like himself.
I'm continuing to struggle with where I am, what I'm doing, and if I'm meant to be elsewhere doing other things. I've thought a lot more about further graduate school, asking for clarity and focus for this myriad of passions He's woven into me. More school means more debt, more uncertainty, and the like. However, I'm just not so sure I can be a therapist for the rest of my life. Maybe that's generalizing, and two years in, I certainly haven't drunk deeply of the field, varied as it is, on the whole. Still, I'm restless.
Restless, indeed.
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| | Posted 6/9/2008 4:00 PM - 135 Views - 6 eProps - 3 comments
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