Surprise

The eighth lap is upon me. Seven full time semesters, each containing an ample 15 hours of credit, and three interterm classes, have led me to this point, a point of no return:

Graduation drawth nigh.

Tomorrow morning I'll head to Professor Payne's Preaching II class, practically on autopilot. I've done this before, but the fact that this is the last time I will get to do this is a heavy thought. Part of me fears that the coming end could tempt me to check out from my duties as a student and student leader, but I hope that instead, as I face my own Boyce mortality, I will savor every last second that God gives me at the school I love abundantly.

Nevertheless, this semester still caught me by surprise.

Musings from Readings: The Shape of Sin and Salvation

I've started G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy, and in the second chapter, he has the following to say:

"As we have taken the circle as the symbol of reason and madness, we may very well take the cross as the symbol at once of mystery and of health. Buddhism is centripetal (center-seeking), but Christianity is centrifugal (tending away from the centralization): it breaks out. For the circle is perfect and infinite in its nature; but it is fixed forever in its size; it can never be larger or smaller. But the cross, though it has at its heart a collision and a contradiction, can extend its four arms for ever without altering its shape. Because it has a paradox in its center it can grow without changing. The circle returns upon itself and is bound. The cross opens its arms to the four winds; it is a signpost for free travelers."

For a while now, I've heard the adage that each person's sin is infinite. (From now on, I will speak personally.) If my sin is infinite, how does that stack up to a God who is also proclaimed infinite by Scripture? I think Chesteron is on to something with his assessment of a circle as being infinite, yet limited in size, while the cross is infinite and unbound. What a thought! My sin continues its infinite race, amassing lap after lap of sin, but its circular path can never get wider, while this infinite transgression is swallowed up in the un-bound infinite cross of Christ. Praise the Lord oh my soul!

"When Satan tempts me to despair, and tells me of the guilt within, upward I look and see Him there, who made an end to all my sin."

Depth and Height.

On days like today, all I can do is just look in horror at the depth of my sin and do my best to look in hope at the height of the cross.

Pilgrimage

In under an hour, my brother, my father, and myself will begin the very long drive to Louisville from Overgaard, AZ. I'm hoping that over the course of the 20 hours on the road, I might seek to know Christ better. May God keep me safe on the journey, but more so, may I journey closer to him.

The Snow

There's a blanket of snow on the ground again, and I must admit, it taunts me. It taunts me because it's white, it's pure, and it reminds of God's promise to his people, spoken through Isaiah, that though their sins were scarlet, he would make them white as snow. Most of the time, the snow is a relief to me, it reminds me that I am forgiven, that God has paid for my sins by his grace, but sometimes (like some of today) it makes me realize just how sinful I am, and to add to that sin, how much I strive towards works-righteousness. When snow falls, it seems to absord all sound with it, and the flakes just fall in deafening silence. There's a peace to it, and if the flakes are large enough and the conditions right, most everything is soon buried beneath its purity.

I heard a song the other day that just perfectly captures that emotional ups and downs of following Christ, the way that the hope of glory and the weight of sin meet. It's called "My Soul Rejoice and Sing" and is from Red Mountain Church's album Help My Unbelief. I hope that it will encourage you as well, for there are times when all we who follow Christ will "feel as cold as clay."

My soul rejoice and sing,
Thy Father’s glorious praise;
And let His precious love,
Employ thee all thy days;
To save my soul from hell,
Was His eternal will;
And bless His precious name,
His purpose to fulfill.

He took the Lord, the great I AM,
And as a nail He fastened Him.

When deep calls to deep,
And sins like mountains rise,
And the old prince of hell,
Says all the Bible’s lies,

This nail is fastened, in my heart,
Nor will it e’er, from me depart.

My wicked heart has said,
Again yea, and again,
That Christ my soul will leave,
To perish in my sin;

But though I feel as cold as clay,
He will not, cannot, go away.

Reality

My family's been working its way through season one of 24 and tonight, we finally finished it. It's a ridiculously intense show, and countless bodies are strewn across Southern California by its end. One of the central plot points is the legacy of one Victor Drazen, the fictional enforcer of the real-life terrorist Slobodan Milosovich. After the last episode ended, I couldn't help shake a few thoughts, namely, that there are men like Victor Drazen around the world, and like him, they oppress the masses by their might that "makes right." Right now for instance, the Horn of Africa is engulfed in conflict as Somalia and Ethiopia fight against militant Muslims. That is merely one instance of suffering and oppression in this world and I sit here in the warm and relatively roomy house in which my family makes it home. My father, brother Michael, and I will begin our long-yet-brief journey by car back to Louisville on Wednesday, and I think that it is indeed time to return. I've snapped back into a fair amount of lazyness, both spiritual and otherwise.

I need God's grace to finish well here for this season. On Sunday evening, I will get the opportunity to share about my summer in Thailand with my home church, and I hope to challenge them to pursue further obedience in missions, but I can only encourage what I practice. The fictional tales of media are a sweet addiction, but reality is very real, and it is "a world by sin destroyed and dead."

Oh may the Gospel prevail over this present darkness.

The New Year

Darrick Dowdy, my brother, and myself journeyed to Phoenix yesterday afternoon for the dual purpose of surprising our friends Amber and Shannon and not being bored in Heber during New Year's. It was a fun excursion that involved transporting a toliet (Darrick's dad is a plumber), going to a city park to play music, having someone yell "F**k N*gg**rs" at us at said park, having a park ranger lock us into the park, and having a much nicer ranger let us out. We went back to their apartment to countdown to midnight and then played a rousing game of "Apples to Apples," which I handily won. Today it's time to finish the Christmas shopping and hopefully make it to Pinetop, AZ today to see my ole' buddy Sean.

I love the New Year because of the deep spiritual significance it possesses when you get beyond the public drunkenness that it often includes. The days are new, just like our souls in the sight of God, and at home in Overgaard, there are still large patches of sparkling white snow on the ground, the way our scarlet sins are in the sight of the forgiving God, if we but flee to Christ for mercy.