Rewiring

These last few days, I have found myself echoing the words of Paul over and over again:

"I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate." Romans 7:15 (NLT)

Although my life is hectic, I often spend my downtime vegging out while surfing Youtube or some other mindless thing.

And time after time, I look back on the time I spent doing nothing when all the things that are piling up on me take the backburner.

So I try and change my ways, but the lure of mindlessness pulls me and I fall again.

Last night was yet another time when I had hours to do things in, and yet I spent it listening to, watching, and doing useless things.

And as I prepared to go to bed, I picked up the stack of memory verses that I have memorized so far through Bible Quizzing this year and turned to the first one.

"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness." 2 Peter 1:3 (NIV)

It strikes me as funny that although this was one of the verses used in choir only last year, and I memorized it this year through Bible Quizzing, that it has only struck me now.

Now that I have gotten used to it, now that I know that I need that strength.

For so long I have been running on my own power, trusting myself to change my ways because that has occasionally worked in the past. Yet I continue to make the same mistakes again, continue to follow a cycle that I want to stop.

And only He has the strength that I need.

Sometimes I wonder if giving up all that I want is worth it. And even as I think it, I think back to all that He has worked through in my life and know that the question is utterly redundant.

But even then, He wasn't done showing me the things that He wanted me to see. This morning at church, the sermon was on "Transformational Discipleship" and was all about allowing others to see our weaknesses and working wholeheartedly towards change by throwing off the sin and then replacing it with a new mindset.

And it centered around Romans 12:1-2:

"And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all he has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice -- the kind he will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship him. Don't copy the behaviour and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God's will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect." (NLT)

Because, as humans, we have a sinful pattern built in. We resort to the same maneuvers again and again when places with tempting situations... we succumb.

What it is required to daily act out His commands is a rewiring. A rewiring of our brains, our habits, our systems of response, of the way that we think.

A rewiring until He is first and we are last.

And it comes with laying down of our personal plans, our personal ambitions, our hopes and dreams of self glorification.

It's all about Him.

And He is so able. So able to keep us from falling.

"Now all glory to God, who is able to keep you from falling away and will bring you with great joy into his glorious presence without a single fault." Jude 1:24 (NLT)

He's working on me.

True

As I read my reading that day, I found myself zoning. Zoning because I had read this story so often, and so recently.

You'll all know what I'm talking about once I mention the word "birth."

It's a lovely story, but just as the saying says: "Familiarity breeds contempt," sometimes the story loses a bit of its shine when it's repeated so often. 

I read about Jesus' birth foretold, about Mary visiting Elizabeth and the song that she sang. Then I went back to read through the asterisks and some cross-references. 

And a certain one snagged my eye and made me take another look at the story:

"What's more, your relative Elizabeth has become pregnant in her old age! People used to say she was barren, but she has conceived a son and is now in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God." Luke 1:36-37 (NLT)

The bolded part had an asterisk by it, and when I looked down, I found myself taken by surprise:

For the word of God will never fail.

At first, the two seemed incongruous to me. 

And then it hit me. 

Does it hit you?

It's not that nothing is impossible with God (although it is)... it's that if He says it, it will happen, no matter how far-fetched and crazy it seems at times. 

Mary probably understood that. I can imagine how reassuring she would've found that.  

And it's now, when I find myself surrounded by doubts about futures, money, academics, and life in general, that I need those words. 

Words of being unfailing, of being faithful... of being true. 

I will hear His voice, telling me which way to go (whether through His word or in another form), and I will find Him, if I seek faithfully. 

He has promised.

He is just as true in whatever promise you are clinging to today. 

His word never fails.




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Unchanging

From way back in the corner of my closet, I unearthed it yesterday. I had been cleaning, sorting out the things that I use and the things that I don't, to get ready for this upcoming new year.

It's shabby looking and the title page is torn off of this notebook that has travelled the continents.

My Grandmother first gave it to my Dad, many years ago when he was young.

It encompasses three generations of handwriting:

My Grandmother's handwriting

My Dad's handwriting

And then it merges, between my Dad and I:

I was given it mere months before I turned twelve, and not very long after my baptism. As I flipped through the study of Romans that I had completed from where my Dad had left off, it was amazing to see myself as a little child again, writing these thoughts down that are foundational to who I am today.

But the most precious part came when I flipped towards the back.

There, I had started a spiritual journal, and it was amazing to see what He was already doing through such a small child as I was.

And as I read of hours spent digging in His Word, of meetings between my Dad and I to study it together, of church groups joined, of convictions to witness to my African friends, of moments when I felt like everything was good, and moments when I was numb, I was amazed. Simply amazed at how He had started working in me at the age of 12.

But age is no limit. He worked great things when I was small, and He works them still. I wonder at the childlike faith that I did not realize at the time was so precious and foundational.

As I flip to the end, my eyes catch words, and they bring back memories long hidden.

Memories of my naivety regarding the seriousness of my sister's illness. Of hastily said good-byes on the very little chance that we would have to leave. Of days spent in limbo until my future was flipped.

It only took two days.

It brings back the bewilderment and the utter displacement that I felt.

And as I sat there, looking at those words, and reading on to see what else I had written, it struck me.

He's never changed.

Not once.

He was good before, and He was good after...

But it has taken me so very long to see that He was good at that moment, when my future was changed.

He truly does *work* for the good of those who love him.... even when we can't see it at the time.

And His purpose never wavers.

He Is Good.

And as I face an uncertain year, filled with diplomas, decisions about summer and college, figuring out finances, leaving a family, and everything else that graduating entails, this promise remains true.

He is unchanging... and HE IS GOOD.

Paths

It was a cold day, and at last I had to tell her that we couldn't take the bike.

And we stood there, surrounded by coats and hats, as I tried to make her see that the snow was deep and her mother was tired, and there was only one way.

To walk.

And it took awhile to make her see the sense in all of it. Her kindergarten brain trying to take in my logic. But she got it, she understood. And as she signed for "mother", pointed at me, and then wrapped her arms around herself, my heart melted.

She wanted to go see my mother... to hug her.

To be enveloped in the embrace of someone who's taken her in with a smile, no matter the inconvenience or the bustle. My mother... who is now just like her own. And so, as we bundled up, pulling on fleecy pants, adjusting coats, wrapping scarfs, and grabbing hats and mitts, I braced myself.

It's a long climb to my house from where hers is. She lives near main street, and I live closer to the hills. But that light in her eyes as she asked if my mother would be home, and as I answered that I didn't know, was enough. Enough to face wind that cut through layers, ice patches that required maneuvering, and walking slowly.

Because she has a limp, this loved one of mine. She shuffles as she walks, and scars trace her body from surgeries, but it only makes the walk even more an act of love.

And as we come up to that one light in town, she pulls me forward, remembering with that brilliantly exact mind of hers how to get to my house. She has a nack for remembering, for knowing exactly how to get to each of her loved one's houses, but she was following the route that we normally took on the bike, and not the one that was the easiest to walk.

And so I tugged back, trying to use my weight to my advantage, because we almost weigh the same. And she followed.... reluctantly.

She kept on pointing  to the direction that she was used to taking, the one that was known, and as we walked down a different sidewalk, she would pause and try and make me understand that we were going the wrong way. And I would calm her down, assuring her that I did really know where I was going.

And as I said those words... they reminded me of Another.

He says those same words to me these days: "Don't worry... I know where we're going."

And I pull and tug and point, saying, "I know what's best. Can't you see? This is how it's supposed to work out!"

I shuffle, I move slowly. He is capable of going so much faster than me.

But He waits... patiently.

And as she and I turned that corner and started walking up the hill that I traverse every day to school, we started going in the direction that she wanted, and she started to relax.

We finally arrived at our destination, and as I pulled off those boots, scarfs, mittens, hats, coats, sweaters, and other layers that we had put on, it was brought to my mind once again.

This year, with everyone asking what my future is looking like leaves me struggling to find peace. I squirm, feeling as if I should have a satisfactory answer, but having none. I have ideas, but I also have the distinct impression that He likes to blow those ideas out of the water with the ones that He has in store for me.

And I know that I won't understand. I'll want to take the conventional route, to do it the easy way. But I'll have to struggle, to stumble, to shuffle, to wonder why He's taking me in a direction so opposite to what I had planned.

And then I'll understand, when we finally turn that corner, and when we reach that place, wherever it may be.

But He does know my way. And I hope that I will remember... and go more willingly.

Promise

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, calming myself as her eyes strayed to the house. The house... the one that has instigated so very many battles between me and her. All because of her longing for "kisses", little pen marks on her hands given by those she loves. Now, the very first time she approached this house, I had no clue was what going on. She wandered purposefully up the porch and knocked in her own way on the front door. After awhile, she started pulling at the screen door and started entering. Now, even I, who knew nothing about her connection to this house, knew that that was not appropriate. I gently nudged her back outside as her eyes wandered, searching for something.

And that something came. In the shape of an elderly man, one who actually goes to my church. He spoke easily with her and had already brought a pen, showing just how well he knew her. She got her mark, gave a few hugs, and several minutes later, we were back walking down the sidewalk. The one aspect of this job that has really challenged me has been the open in-your-face attitude that I have to either explain/condone or attempt to get her to cease... neither of which necessarily always works.

So as her eyes wandered and she started making her sign for wanting more "kisses" or "stamps", I was already gearing up for battle. We had gone through it a few days before. I had followed her, always staying on the side of her that was closest to the house so as to create a physical barrier. Yes, it was partly selfish, and yet it was not. I didn't want the trouble of having to facilitate another meeting and dragging her away at the end, but I also didn't want to presume upon that sweet old man. But really, the defining thought in my mind was that she had to obey me as her authority and now was just as good a time to stress that as any other. So we fought... fought for what must've been almost half an hour or more.

She moved closer, I followed her, blocking her way, all the while talking and trying to dissuade her. Of course, all she could think about was getting that stamp and meeting someone she knew very well. So she constantly made the sign and then iced the performance off with a series of pleases, also signed. I was thankful that she was being polite and I acknowledged that, letting her know that I understood, but my answer was still no and it wasn't about to change. She sat down, pouting... then got back up and tried again. She walked down the sidewalk and then tried to deviate to get back again.

But at the end... I won. She was sullen, but eventually I lured her away with words of other people to be met on Main Street, or activities to be pursued in her own home. Is that fair? Yes, I know that she has a lower intelligence, is easily swayed, has to constantly reminded and thinks through things in a young and childish way. But, just like a child has to learn how to obey and also to understand why they don't get what they want, she had to understand, in whatever limited capacity, that not getting her way is sometimes for the greater good.

All of that leads to today. Wow.. I am long winded! Anyway... we had just exited the place of her employment, and her house was in sight down the sidewalk. But in between was the house and I dreaded another fight. Because I can be strong... but I don't want to be. I didn't want to injure the relationship for the rest of the day and do things that I would regret later on. So I spoke to her slowly and softly: "I know that you want to go get a stamp, but how about not today? Let's let him rest and come back some other time. What if  he's having a nap? Right now we're headed to your house to get you some nice snack. Then we can decide what to do then..." This lured her, but not quite enough... and then it led me into saying something... a promise. "Not today... but the next day that I come over, then we can go over to his house, okay? Next time.. not today, I promise that we will go over and get a stamp."

This seemed to satiate her and we headed to her house. Later on during the few hours I was with her, she tried to get us out of the house just so that she could go get that one stamp. Every time, I asked her,"Did you forget the promise I made? Do you remember?" It would take her awhile, but then her eyes would light up with understanding and she would sign an emphatic "yes" back to me, and continue on with whatever activity she was doing. I'm so glad that she is growing to trust me. And I hope that as I fulfill this promise, her trust will grow even greater.

As I sat there, reminding her constantly, another picture arose.... one of myself. Me.... and the Father. The one that I am to obey, even when I long for something that may be good, but just isn't on His agenda for me.I turn my eyes to this thing that seems overwhelmingly enticing, and as I walk toward it, He places a physical barrier that tells me "no." But I only try harder... I try and explain my way around it... I ask for it in the nicest way possible... I say, "Oh, but then I will do this and this and this for You..." But He doesn't buy it. He knows so much better and I am only a child.

Finally, I rest. I continue on in His plan, but then when I am in valleys, in rough spots, or filled with temptation... that thing comes back to me and I immediately start planning how to pursue it. It's then that He turns in His voice to me and says, "Are you forgetting My promise? Don't you remember?" It takes me awhile, but then I do remember. And when I do, I understand and go back to obeying.

It's been this way with multiple things in my life, but the biggest would probably be returning to Cameroon. My dad is there right now, and I honestly wish that I could've gone with him. Yes, I have a life here... but that place has the other half of my heart beating it there... calling me. And it's not a bad thing. Yet... at this time, it's not good... not yet, anyways. So I must wait, even when I am so thirsty for the sight of that place... wait until His promise comes. Because it will. For He is trustworthy... and in waiting for His promise, my trust grows even greater.