Meekness.

“Meekness” has been haunting me (in a good way) for the past couple days.

• Reading through 1 Samuel and Psalms about King David and noting his meek spirit.

• Felt like listening to Steve Lawson and “on a whim” decided to listen to his 4/26 sermon on Majestic Meekness.

• The Savior’s meekness and my lack pretty relentlessly pressing in on my thoughts.

• Overheard someone using that word at the store?  on the radio?  both?

• First card I won in a game of Apples to Apples with friends last night: the “Meek” card.  Kept glancing back at that card for the rest of the game.  Convicted me every time.  But made me smile, too.

• Saw this link for JMac’s Restoring the Virtue of Meekness on Jenna’s Facebook.

… That’s certainly one way to get my attention.  I’m listening, Lord.

Keeping a quiet heart.

(I’ll be back to the love meditations later this week after finals end.)

Keeping a quiet heart is difficult.  Rushing questions, busy thoughts, and churning emotions.  What does this heart know of stillness?  It is often a striving spirit rather than a still one.

Times of solitude in some “hiding place” somewhere is good for our soul.  It’s good to come ashore for a while and quietly think on the Master, to again refocus our affections on Him.  Then does the dust of life somewhat settle and again the vision is clear: Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart.  Naught be all else to me save that Thou art.

This is how a quiet heart is cultivated: in the pure pursuit of one thing, with the peace of Christ ruling and reigning over the whole realm of my heart, my mind, and my life.  Peace is the tranquil state of a soul assured in Christ.

Jesus slept on a pillow in the midst of a raging storm.  How could He?  The terrified disciples, sure that the next wave would send them straight to the bottom, shook Him awake with rebuke.  How could He be so careless of their fate?

He could because He slept in the calm assurance that His Father was in control.  His was a quiet heart.  We see Him move serenely through all the events of His life — when He was reviled, He did not revile in return.  When He knew that He would suffer many things and be killed in Jerusalem, He never deviated from His course.  He had set His face like a flint.  He sat at supper with one who would deny Him and another who would betray Him, yet He was able to eat with them, willing even to wash their feet.  Jesus in the unbroken intimacy of His Father’s love, kept a quiet heart.

(Elisabeth Elliot)

More like Jesus would I be.

Grace, God’s method.

Penance and retribution do not transform.  The flagellation of self or the flagellation of another, whether literally or figuratively, do not transform.  Severity does not change the heart.

Grace does.

Grace — kindness undeserved, favor unmerited — transforms.  This is God’s method.

What’s ours?

And pour contempt on all my pride…

Below is an article, Not I but Christ, by an unknown author — how appropriate…:

The following are some of the features and manifestations of the self-life.  The Holy Spirit alone can interpret and apply this to your individual case.  As you read, examine yourself in the very presence of God.  Are you ever conscious of:

• A secret spirit of pride — an exalted feeling, in view of your success or position; because of your good training or appearance; because of your natural gifts and abilities?  An important, independent spirit?

• Love of human praise — a secret fondness to be noticed; love of supremacy; drawing attention to self in conversation; a swelling out of self when you have had a free time in speaking or praying?

• The stirrings of anger or impatience — which, worst of all, you call nervousness or holy indignation; a touchy, sensitive spirit; a disposition to resent or retaliate when disapproved of or contradicted; a desire to throw sharp, heated flings at another?

• Self-will — a stubborn, unteachable spirit; an arguing, talkative spirit; harsh, sarcastic expressions; an unyielding, headstrong disposition; a driving, commanding spirit; a disposition to criticize and pick flaws when set aside and unnoticed; a peevish, fretful spirit; a disposition that loves to be coaxed and humored?

• Carnal fear — a man-fearing spirit; a shrinking from reproach and duty; reasoning around your cross; a shrinking from doing your whole duty by those of wealth or position; a fearfulness that someone will offend and drive some prominent person away; a compromising spirit?

• A jealous disposition — a secret spirit of envy shut up in your heart; an unpleasant sensation in view of the prosperity and success of another; a disposition to speak of the faults and failings, rather than the gifts and virtues of those more talented and appreciated than yourself?

• A dishonest, deceitful disposition — the evading and covering of the truth; the covering up of your real faults; leaving a better impression of yourself than is strictly true; false humility; exaggeration; straining the truth?

• Unbelief — a spirit of discouragement in times of pressure and opposition; lack of quietness and confidence in God; lack of faith and trust in God; a disposition to worry and complain in the midst of pain, poverty, or at the dispensations of divine providence; an overanxious feeling whether everything will come out all right?

• Formality and deadness — lack of concern for lost souls; dryness and indifference; lack of power with God?

• Selfishness — love of ease, love of money?

This list kills me, and it’s not even exhaustive.

“It is not sin that humble us most, but grace.  It is the soul, led through its sinfulness to be occupied with God in His wonderful glory as God, as Creator and Redeemer, that will truly take the lowest place before Him … [It is] the only root from which the graces can grow, and the one indispensable condition of true fellowship with Jesus.” (Andrew Murray)

“For humility let us labor.  For humility let us pray.” (J.C. Ryle)

There is no hope for humility — not even a glimmer — to be found in me.  Apart from Christ, I am nothing.  I will not find hope by searching my own heart; that will only lead me to despair.  But there is hope in the cross of Jesus and in the promise that if we walk by the Spirit, we will not gratify the desires of the flesh (Galatians 5:16).  So, our labors and prayers for humility are not in vain.  He is willing and able to make us humble.

Simply Jesus.

A week ago, I was rummaging the shelves of a store, looking for Christmas cards.  Santa Claus in his usual get-up, three lean wise men, a velvety puppy with bright red ribbon, a cozy cottage with gray smoke leisurely circling out the chimney …

They were cute but not quite what I was looking for.  To be honest, I didn’t really know what I was looking for; all I knew was that those weren’t it.

I turned the corner and started rummaging through the shelves on the next aisle.  The classic nativity scene, comical elves, a single ornament hanging from a branch …

Then I saw a square-ish card with a cute picture of baby Jesus in some straw.  “Too cutesy.”  I was ready to rummage on until I saw what was written under the picture: Simply Jesus.

I think I stared at that for a good minute or two.  Simply Jesus.

Remaining TEAchable.

Today was our ladies’ Christmas tea at church.  It was my first time decorating a table, not to mention it was a bit last minute … but when I went to church last night to set up, a couple ladies really helped me out (i.e., the cloth napkins were borrowed, the table cloth was borrowed, and the cranberries were “donated” to me by the next table’s hostess).

It was so sweet being on the “being teached” end again.  It was sweet not knowing everything … or rather, knowing that I didn’t know everything.

What kinds of utensils do I need to bring?  How do I fold the cloth napkin?  How do I set the utensils if all I have is a spoon and fork?  How many plates do I bring?

As I left church last night, I was so thankful for the simple reminder to remain teachable — not only when I know I don’t know, but especially when I think I know something!

It’s becoming more difficult, especially as I grow older, to keep a teachable heart.  I’m not quite there yet, but I’m sure a time will come when nothing I hear will be especially novel anymore.  But even then, to learn with eagerness.  Even when I’m reading 2 Corinthians for the thousandth time, to come with a heart ready to learn, ready to learn the same truths in deeper shades.  Even when I think I have life and God figured out according to my pantry of various experiences, to humble myself before Scripture and others’ counsel when they don’t match up to my opinions or worldview.

“God only wise, forgive me for my pride.  Forgive me for my obstinate heart.  Give me a teachable heart, Rabboni.”

The legend of the stones.

I just read and wanted to share this African legend (key word: legend) about Jesus and His disciples as told by Elisabeth Elliot.

It is only a legend. But I think it’s not sacrilegious and I do believe that there’s a strong lesson here for all of us. It certainly was a lesson that hit me between the eyes. It’s the legend of the stones.

Jesus was walking one day with His disciples and asked each one to pick up a stone to carry for Him. They all picked up a stone. Peter, rather a small one; John, a bigger one. Jesus led them to the top of a mountain and then He commanded the stones to be made bread. The disciples were by this time hungry, and so they were given permission to eat the bread in their hands. Of course, Peter didn’t have very much. John shared with him some of the bread that had been made from the stone he had carried.

On another occasion, the same Jesus took the same disciples for a walk and again asked them to pick up a stone to carry for Him. This time you can imagine that Peter picked up a bigger stone. But Jesus did not take them this time to the top of the mountain. He took them to the river. As they stood on the bank looking with questions in their minds to Him, He said, “Throw the stones into the river,” which they did at once in obedience to His command. Then they looked at Him, expectantly waiting for the miracle that would happen this time.

Nothing happened. They waited. They watched. Nothing happened. Jesus, with great compassion, looked on these disciples whom He loved and He said, “For whom did you carry the stone?”

(Elisabeth Elliot, “For Whom Do You Carry Your Stone?”)

Tres centavos.

A New Old Book
I’m currently reading C.S. Lewis’s The Abolition of Man, or Reflections on Education with Special Reference to the Teaching of English in the Upper Forms of Schools.  I’ve had this on my shelf since I was in high school.  Of course, I finally pick it up now, months after I finished teaching.  How useful it would have been, say, a year ago! I actually never even knew its alternate title until a few days ago when I actually turned to the inside title page. :]  It’s been interesting (hehe — yes, Jenn, I’m sorry; you don’t like my broad, nondescript use of the word, interesting) reading this from a Christian author.  Most of what I read in my credential program was from a very different perspective.  I wonder if there are more books written on this topic?

Sour Notes
I hit some sour notes (about three prominent ones, if not more) while playing during the offertory today.  They were pretty sour.  But what was even more sour than those notes was what God revealed in my heart as a result of those wrong notes.  I was hardly thankful or even mindful of His grace.  I was hardly thinking about whether others were still prompted to reflect on Christ in worship as a result of the song (it was Fairest Lord Jesus).  My mind was stuck on those sour notes.  I was stuck on my errors.  More correctly, I was stuck on my wounded pride.  It’s interesting how these greater heart issues are reflected in even the “smallest” situations.  Even in my walk with Christ, I tend to get hung up about my errors (or again, rather, my wounded pride).  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to knock “humility” or “a single love for Jesus” off of my prayer requests list … it’s a grievous thing to think about how frequently I must grieve His Spirit, but it’s a heartening thing to think about just how soon I will finally worship Him as I long to, in a more lasting city.  No more songs of love to the Savior, there, with hearts still entangled with self-love.  No more sour notes from the heart.

Kindred Spirits
I am so thankful for “kindred spirited” sisters in Christ.  There is so much to learn from sisters who work — in their heart, mind, and life — differently (as far as the graceful bounds of Scripture allow for diversity in those areas); but I’m so thankful He gives those kindred spirits to run the race with, too.  Ones who are so much so stitched together from the same inner fabric, so to speak, that it doesn’t take much to understand them or be understood by them.  He’s been providing me with such sisters here at home, too, and my cup runs over. :]

Blaming God.

I’ve been taking my time studying through Genesis lately. A couple days ago, I was rereading Genesis 3, when Adam and Eve are deflecting the responsibility for their sin; and as I was journaling about Adam’s response, God kindly but directly exposed sin in my heart, too.

Adam told God, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” (Genesis 3:12)

Nothing I haven’t read before; he’s blaming Eve for his sin toward God, right? But then I read it again.

“The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” Whoa. He was ultimately blaming God — God who created the world & who, with deep pleasure over His creation, said, “It is good.” God who, with compassion towards Adam, said it was “not good” that man should be alone. God who, in His kindness, fashioned a companion, a suitable helper, for Adam (Eve, woman).

And now, after sinning and sabotaging the creation that had made God’s heart swell with pleasure, Adam basically throws the blame back in God’s face, saying, “You . . . You gave me this woman. Ultimately it’s Your fault that I sinned in this way. Eve gave me the fruit, but You gave me Eve. So You God are culpable. God, You have done this — not me.”

I thought Adam must have been crazy & must have considered his life to be worthy very little to point the finger at the holy God of the universe & say, “You are responsible for my sin.”

But immediately, the thought came: Do I blame God like that? God, the circumstances You gave me? The family or home You gave me? The mother or father You gave me? The personality You gave me?

I do that, too. It makes me tremble to think of it. I take the weight of my sin, thrust it in God’s face, & say, “God, You’ve sovereignly given these things to me. Why did You give them to me? It’s Your fault. You’re responsible for my sin . . . so it’s not fair that I receive sin’s wages or punishment. If anyone, You should.” (I couldn’t help but tremble writing that out even now.)

Terror. Grief. That’s the order of emotions as I reflected on the passage. Terror to think what God’s just response should have been to my defiance and treachery. Grief to know I had been blaming my sin on the perfect One who imputed my sin to Himself & His righteousness to me.

I had to repent, praying for forgiveness and for the grace to root this sin out of my heart (and I will probably need to do this again & again as I continually seek to put off the flesh & put on Christ).  He forgives even this sin, not because it’s a light thing, but because Christ paid the full price for sins on Calvary.  Amazing grace . . . how can I understand it?  It is high; I cannot attain it.

Searching questions to ask myself often:
- Am I blaming God for sinful habits in my life by saying I picked them up from the loved ones He placed in my life?
- Am I blaming God for placing me in situations and in circumstances that “force” me to respond in sin?
- Am I blaming God for the consequences of my sinful choices?
- Am I blaming God for the hardness of my heart, for my lack of trust, by saying that He is distant or ambiguous or unclear?
- Am I blaming God, saying He made love and obedience too difficult?

One Face.

I once heard a conversation between a certain Six-Face & a certain One-Face . . .

Six-Face: I am weary of my six faces.

One-Face: Then why not trade your six faces for just one face?

Six-Face: But I cannot keep the same face in every context. I’ll be sure to lose some friends.

One-Face: Therein lies the issue. If your aim is to please the One, you only need one face. If your aim is to please the many, you will need even more than the six faces you currently have.

Six-Face: Can’t I please the One and the many all at once?

One-Face: No. It’s impossible to run simultaneously towards two goals that lie in opposite directions.

Six-Face: Do you then care nothing for man’s esteem? Do you not fear the rejection or scorn of man?

One-Face: Not without faltering, but I choose the fear of the LORD. When I look to Him, man’s esteem is as the common dust that blows in every which way.