trust the dreams
...And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?...
Life is certainly uncertain. I can remember, as a child, fearing death to the point of tears. I cried often at the thought of being abandoned in the school yard, or being left to fend in the wild alone. It was my understanding that death was absolute in its finality. Life was all that there was, and at its end was an unknown darkness.
And what now? Understanding death as a beginning brings joy and comfort for me as the sooner-or-later to be deceased. But it brings little peace to me as a person who must and will grieve. In my life thus far, I have witnessed countless deaths. Some in their youth, some in their time. What discomforts me now is different from my fears as a child, and yet equally alarming. So few people in my life are prepared for death. I say this knowing that if they were to suddenly pass, they would doubtlessly be in an unforgiving place; a place absent of God and any hope of fulfillment.
It is at this point that I question my devotion. How can I allow for this to persist? My pastor's words are a constant reminder: "Heaven would be incomplete without you." What joy is there in a heaven that I did not help to create? I would be the guest at a potluck who failed to add to the feast. I could still enjoy the food and the company, but perhaps less so because I contributed nothing; I did not do my part. Although Christ left to prepare a place for us, I somehow understand that it is the special task of his saints to complete that place.
Each person's face leaves a painful impression on my mind. How empty will heaven be because I was afraid to speak? Because I did not seek Him? Because I did not press? I find myself envying those who are spiritually endowed with the ability to deliver the gospel. They are presented with grand opportunities in life to lead people to truth, and their fruit is multiplied. But I do nothing. I wallow in self pity and allow sin to consume my energy. I am afraid. Even now after all that has been revealed. I allow the "inopportunities" and the discomfort of the moment to overtake my desire to share, and because of my cowardice people will suffer. I await the day when I will no longer be afraid; when my heart's desire will consume every doubt. I pray for that day.
Life is certainly uncertain. I can remember, as a child, fearing death to the point of tears. I cried often at the thought of being abandoned in the school yard, or being left to fend in the wild alone. It was my understanding that death was absolute in its finality. Life was all that there was, and at its end was an unknown darkness.
And what now? Understanding death as a beginning brings joy and comfort for me as the sooner-or-later to be deceased. But it brings little peace to me as a person who must and will grieve. In my life thus far, I have witnessed countless deaths. Some in their youth, some in their time. What discomforts me now is different from my fears as a child, and yet equally alarming. So few people in my life are prepared for death. I say this knowing that if they were to suddenly pass, they would doubtlessly be in an unforgiving place; a place absent of God and any hope of fulfillment.
It is at this point that I question my devotion. How can I allow for this to persist? My pastor's words are a constant reminder: "Heaven would be incomplete without you." What joy is there in a heaven that I did not help to create? I would be the guest at a potluck who failed to add to the feast. I could still enjoy the food and the company, but perhaps less so because I contributed nothing; I did not do my part. Although Christ left to prepare a place for us, I somehow understand that it is the special task of his saints to complete that place.
Each person's face leaves a painful impression on my mind. How empty will heaven be because I was afraid to speak? Because I did not seek Him? Because I did not press? I find myself envying those who are spiritually endowed with the ability to deliver the gospel. They are presented with grand opportunities in life to lead people to truth, and their fruit is multiplied. But I do nothing. I wallow in self pity and allow sin to consume my energy. I am afraid. Even now after all that has been revealed. I allow the "inopportunities" and the discomfort of the moment to overtake my desire to share, and because of my cowardice people will suffer. I await the day when I will no longer be afraid; when my heart's desire will consume every doubt. I pray for that day.
posted by jmf at
11:01 PM
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