| May Christ be rooted and grounded in our hearts through faith |
Ann Voskamp writes in One Thousand Gifts
I
know it in my veins, and viscerally: life is loss.
What
will I lose? Health? Comfort? Eventually, I am guaranteed to lose every earthly
thing I have ever possessed.
When
will I lose? How much time have I got before the next loss?
Who
will I lose? And that’s definite: I will lose every single person I have ever
loved. Abruptly or eventually. All human relationships end in loss.
Carol Shield’s elegiac novel The Stone Diaries tracks her heroine,
Daisy Goodchild, through blossoming and flourishing, wealth, marriage, a huge
house and garden, to her old age in a single room.
When I lived in Williamsburg,
Virginia, and attended a multi-generational church, I noticed this pattern in my
older friends’ lives. They had once had large houses with swimming pools,
tennis courts, but their life first shrunk to a small retirement home, and
eventually, sometimes, a single room in the posh retirement communities in
Williamsburg.
The way of all flesh. The
inevitable arc of life unless you are lucky in your health, mental health, and
bones. (A single fall, or a series of fall, with broken bones, can so hamper
mobility that one can no longer live alone! As does the slow creep of
Alzheimers or dementia)
* * *
We
blossom and flourish like leaves on the tree.
We
wither and perish, but nought changeth thee.
The arc of life, save for the
luckiest.
* * *
And you know what? That’s okay.
We can grow old happily as
Christians. While we might exercise, and eat healthily and keep mentally
healthy against the dying of the light, continuous spiritual growth is possible through
all the seasons of life.
Though
outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day,
2 Cor. 4:16.
While chronologically, we grow
older, spiritually we can grow younger, renewed by the presence of Christ
increasing in us.
· *
*
He
must increase, I must decrease. (John 3:30)
How do I provide fertile soil for Christ
to increase in me?
1) Our
first resort when we want to get something done in our spiritual or actual
lives is actually the simplest.
We pray to. We
ask Christ to spread his taproots deep and wide in our spirits.
2) Paul prays for the Ephesians,
“That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.”
When faced with worries—I myself have
a daughter applying to university next year, for instance--ask, What is the
faith-filled way of looking at this?
3) We read the Gospels again and
again, listen to them while driving in the car, listen while we sort laundry,
listen while we tidy rooms until we know them pretty much by heart. (Have I
practised what I am preaching? Yes, as far as I know, I do know them nearly by
heart, after decades of repeated reading, listening, and study).
We do this to get to know how this
very distinctive, unique, amazing and spectacular person Jesus thinks, to know
what he values.
4) And then, in the hour of testing,
we choose what he values.
In little decisions, in big, in
matters of scheduling, of spending money, whatever, we consider Jesus. We ask
him, “What would you have me do?”
(The answers may well surprise us.
He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and clothes the lilies better than
Solomon. His will, for each of his children, takes wonderfully diverse forms.)
· *
*
He must increase, I must
decrease. May Jesus so spread his tap-roots in my heart that there may be ever
more of him, and less of me.
Every now and again I
spend time with a really Christ-like Christian, my good friend, Paul, for instance, or my friend and mentor Lolly
Dunlap, or Dick
Woodward, and am startled to see Christ flame
out, like shining from shook foil.
And I find these
glimpses of Christ so attractive, that I want his life to live in me more
largely, more hugely.
Oh wind of the
spirit,
Blow away the chaff
in me,
Let there be less of
me, and more of Jesus
Oh Holy Spirit,
tongues of fire,
Burn away the dross
in me,
Let Jesus shine
forth,
Oh Holy Spirit,
streams of living water,
Wash away the dreary
dust from my spirit,
Let the light, the
radiance of Jesus shine forth.
Am I willing for this
hurricane of the spirit,
this deluge, this
consuming fire
these necessary acts
of God to shake my soul
so that I may
henceforth dwell in the high
and holy places of
joy with Jesus?
I am willing.
Oh, but I am a
cowardly lion, nervous
before the wild and
good lion
who controls the wind
and the waves.
I do not know what I
ask.
Still, possess my heart
completely, Lord Jesus,
and burn, blow, wash
away the dross in me
with as tame
a hurricane, flood, and
fire as possible,
so that you may
increase, and I may decrease.
Thanks for the inspiring post! :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful Anita...
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rhoda
ReplyDelete@Louise, hope you're doing well in your new church. You seem to be settling in very well!