Thank you, God. That’s what I need to do: Thank you.
There is a tired → grumpy → tired → etc. loop that I need to write more about and recognize. Here’s a quick take: If I am tired, then I find I don’t have the energy for some tasks. But my default setting is do-do-do, so then I get grumpy about not accomplishing things, especially if I feel like I have no right to be tired. But trying to think my way out of these things with a tired mind makes me grumpier and more tired.
My new motto is: “Live every day like it’s your last.” And no, that does not mean find a hospital, go there, find a room and lay down, eyes twitching…
— Sullivan
I obviously overreact to the novel stimuli in my house right now coming from Crystal—basically just a different manner of speaking and reacting in speech to the stimuli around her. She is a twelve-year-old who hasn’t grown up in my house. Of course she will be different. Inwardly, I’m fine about it all, but when I talk with Carla about it, it comes out agitated, overwrought, and angry. I’m really not as agitated as it comes across. It’s just new.
“One who allows himself license in little things is ruined little by little” (Augustine, as quoted by the folks at Renovaré.
It would add to my happiness to do and request what I want more often—and tenderly—from Sullivan, Crystal, and Éa. It would also add to my happiness for them to comply more readily and without repeated prompting. My evenings seem to be me chasing them around and fretting about what they and I are not doing.
At a very basic level, well-being within Christianity is not gauged in the presence or absence of illness or distress. Religious beliefs and practice may well have therapeutic benefits, but that is not their primary function or intention. Nor is the efficacy of a “spiritual intervention” theologically determined according to criteria such as reduce anxiety, better coping, or a reduction in depression, important as these things may be at a certain level. Theologically speaking, well-being has nothing to do with the* absence or reduction of anything. It has to do with the presence of something: the presence of God-in-relationship. Well-being, peace, health—what Scripture describes as shalom*—has to do with the presence of a specific God in particular places who engages in personal relationships with unique individuals for formative purposes. Rather than alleviating anxiety and fear, the present of such a God often brings on dissonance and psychological disequilibrium, but always for the purpose of the person’s greater well-being understood in redemptive and relational terms.
— John Swinton, Dementia, p. 7
“More than anything else I am thankful to Jesus for being patient with me and for remembering me when I have forgotten whose I am” (John Swinton, Dementia, x).
“I don’t know if it’s a success, but I do know it’s good.”
— myself, quoted despite the gaucheness of doing so instead of just journaled because it seems a multi-purpose saying: I said it originally to Aaron about his running club, but I could say it equally about our church
You want biblical models for how the offender should behave in pursuing forgiveness? Try Jacob and Zaccheus on.
Guilt is good. (The feeling, not the fact.)
You know the allure of your own little child first thing in the morning, how it’s irresistible to give them all your loving attention, to hold them, coo over them, think the world of them, and feel ready to give the world to them? Two notes about that:
- This is the way God feels about you.
- This is the way God wants us to feel about each other, not just our own kids.
The sin Jesus addressed via the Cross was our sin against God, not our sin against one another. The latter still requires the hard work of reconciliation. If we understood this, our track record in handling abuse situations would be vastly improved. Jesus’ work on the Cross is not license to bludgeon victims toward cheap forgiveness of their abusers.
God does not need us to “make good” to him in order for him forgive us. However, humans may need us to do so. There is such a thing as manifesting (bringing forth) fruit of repentance. This makes hyper-Protestants nervous. It need not be so.
Here, Crosby makes the point I’ve been approaching by asserting that the sin God deals with on the Cross is our sin against Him, not our sign against others.
God has given (perfect middle participle– a present reality affecting us at the moment) us, everything necessary for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3). We just need to get on with well-executed consistency in basic things, rather than lusting for some ill-defined new level of spiritual catharsis or illumination (Stephen Crosby, “It’s 2019 and God is Not Taking You to New Levels”).
That articles like these still speak to me proves that I’m still a post-Charismatic.
I have started to prioritize sleep catch-up over prayer-walking. Is that okay?
Today I am grateful for the following:
- the self-control Éa is demonstrating as she practices her first riff on her new Washburn Maverick electric guitar (“Smoke On The Water,” of course)—let’s hope she has the self-control enough to power through the rut of learning your first riff and never moving past it because it’s the only thing you’ve mastered;
- the goodness of setting aside time to walk, read, engage in hobbies, and journal. May my good friend learn it, too;
- the faithfulness of Carla, my wife of coming on fifteen years next year. Whoa.
“Not one of those men had ever suggested that a person could be ‘called to anything but ‘full-time Christian service,’ by which they meant either the ministry or the ‘the mission field’” (Jayber Crow, 43).
You can be called to anything in which you can love.
“Once I had the reputation, so long as I continued to talk up to it, I did not have to live up to it” (Jayber Crow, 41). Boy, Jayber, didn’t I know that feeling in high school! I bet it’s common to high schoolers.
Provided we forgive others, God forgives us if He observes our:
- repentance,
- hopeless ignorance, or
- incapacity.
We should do the same.
The problem with being an adolescent is that when you go to rub your beard, you end up pinching yourself.
— Sullivan
“Littering fine”? They think littering’s fine?
— Éa
It’s time to add a seventh option to our grading of the films we see:
- must-see for the sake of humanity
- must-see for entertainment or aesthetic value
- especially worthwhile
- worthwhile
- only technically worthwhile
- not worthwhile
- avoid
The films I would put into this new classification are:
And I’m sure there are more. I’ll have to revisit.
Is it scripturally defensible to claim that the Cross handles our sin(s) against God but does not do anything about our sin(s) against other people? And that even God’s forgiveness of our sin against Him does not preclude the possibility of rehabilitative action on His part, even punishment? (Restitution would be impossible, of course.) Is this a good way to avoid the pressure to forgive and forget or forgive quickly or superficially and a good way to keep perpetrators from getting off easily and without restitution and without reconciliation and without humbling?
This thought occurred to me while praying the Lord’s prayer on my walking way up Enterprise Drive to pick up Éa’s bag from Organic Climbing. It is tangentially inspired, I’m sure, by Rutledge’s The Crucifixion and by Denhollander’s piece on how penal substitutionary atonement informs how abusers and victims should be handled.
Perhaps journaling has lost its shine to me because it’s naturally ego-boosting—and by that I mean it enlarges one’s sense of self—and thus, in a time when I have a strong sense of self and am quite happy to boot, it seems superfluous and self-centered. There are times when journaling is good—like through my doubt of God—and times, like now, when it’s not really a must. I could tell you about all the good that’s happening in my life right now. But what good would that do?