Discipline

The Superbowl is on and I'm not watching. Not intentionally. I was just caught up in trying to get it done--so to speak. While it embarrasses me to say so, I'm a remarkably undisciplined person. Life is full of great ideas, goals, and projects--inevitably, I begin several, attempt to meet impossible standards, and eventually move "it" to the back burner. For the past several months, the goal has been to finish. Just finish. Before moving on to something else. Focusing on the task at hand. Giving it my full attention--or as close to full as possible. Over all of this--I want to be aware of what's important, what requires my attention and what just sucks me in. I want to bear down on my gifts.

We've been talking about "calling" at church. One of the things I love about my 30's is perspective. In some ways, calling can be elusive--but sometimes it's just whatever sticks. Words have stuck to me. I teach about them, I write with them, I think about them, I explain them. But, what I lack is discipline. And here's what I'm wondering, if living in our calling requires us to recognize that our worth is found only in Christ, then we must immerse ourselves in that reality. Such an immersion requires a discipline of remembrance, constant referral to truth, whole faith.

Psalm 93, 96; 34 [morning/evening]
Genesis 24:50-67
2 Timothy 2:14-21
Mark 10:13-22

"Is the Lord among us or not?"

Psalms 121, 122, 123
/131, 132[morning/evening]
Isaiah 45:14-19
Colossians 1:24--2:7
John 8:12-19

When the normal schedule resumes, blogging apparently proves challenging. Time has again become a commodity, and I determine the worth of a task or event by time-spent. In fact, this week, it occurred to me that I don't have an insatiable desire for money--I have an insatiable desire for time. To a fault, I don't care about clothes or make-up or cars; but, I'm greedy with each second of my day--also to a fault. I find myself planning ahead in terms of minutes, gathering seconds for myself whenever possible, and dreading bedtime because it means the end of the day and sleep seems unproductive. When the psalmist compares the length of our lives to the life of grass, I get it. I feel it. I hate it. More often than not, I don't know why I'm here. There's no melancholy attached to that statement; I'm just not sure how packing lunches, cooking dinner, or running like mad from activity to activity is serving the greater good or how it fits into God's story.

I've always wanted God's story to feel like something along the lines of The Lord of the Rings--a little bit of fairy tale, lots of beauty, and some struggle (but just a bit.) The other day I discussed a particularly brutal section of Joel with some friends. We've been reading through the minor prophets together--a task I haven't been excited over just because, to be frank, it's hard to take. And when someone asked, "How do you feel as you read these chapters?" [which are full of destruction, fear, and God's anger and judgment] I blurted out, "That could be me! God could exact that punishment on me...and he loves me?"

So today, as I read these pieces of scripture, I found a common theme that took this issue to the mat. In Isaiah, God says, "I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek me in vain.' I, the Lord, speak the truth; I declare what is right." Paul, in Colossians writes of maturing in Christ to understand the mysteries of God. And it occurred to me that in many ways, I don't live as if I acknowledge the immensity of the cross--it revealed the mystery in God's story as much as it redeemed us. And it should reorder my time, or, at the very least change the reason I'm so greedy for it.

In another, unblogged, reading, Exodus 17:7 caught my attention: "Is the Lord among us or not?" The question comes from a place name Moses used after providing water for the wandering Israelites; he was understandably frustrated by their persistent doubt. I should ask the same question...it changes my interpretation of the story.

Psalm 103/148 [morning/evening]
Isaiah 62:1-5, 10-12
Matthew 1:18-25
Revelations 19:11-16


Happy New Year! I've already broken 2 of my nearly 100 (I haven't counted, but it feels that high) new year's resolutions. But there's one I'm holding onto with some ferocity: Pay attention to the moment.

As I read through this morning's readings (to be quite honest, I rarely read the evening Psalm, which could actually be a great way to wrap up the day), I struggled to find a common theme. Or to again be honest, the house distracted me. That post-holiday disaster I find myself managing each year stared me down. Vaguely, as I read through Psalm 103, Isaiah, and Revelations (I have no idea why the New Year's Day reading included an account of the angel announcing the news of Mary's pregnancy to Joseph), I caught a theme of God's pleasure even in the ordinary and flawed. Isaiah describes his redemption of Jerusalem like a wedding, "the desirable place," or "the city no longer forsaken."

Maybe this does connect to Joseph; here's a man who had plans. "Normal" plans even. But God used a situation normally viewed by society as awkward and taboo to bring redemption to the earth. Maybe we sometimes altering our view of the mess gives us better vision.