Monthly Archives: March 2013

And We Thought It Was Over…

27 Wednesday Mar 2013

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When was slavery abolished?

Not yet, apparently…and that must give us pause. It must give us more than pause. It must pull at whatever strings are connected to our hearts, and if it doesn’t, we must ask ourselves why.

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“Slavery still exists. We want every man, woman and child to know that there are 27 million men, women and children, just like them, living in the shadows. Working as slaves. In 161 countries. Including our own. Let’s shine a light on slavery and END IT.” End It, Non-Profit Organization.

For as long as I was online today, I added my voice to those others supporting Shout Out Wednesday. I posted on Facebook quite a few times today, and I wondered if it irritated people, and then it hit me…who cares? Who cares who is annoyed by my posts, if we still have people–27 million at that–without the option of basic human freedom, not to mention any hope of the social media we’re so dependent on? In fact, if there were some way to irritate people into caring, I’d so be on it, but there just isn’t. Whereas I don’t seek to be obnoxious, it makes me wonder what could have gone so wrong with “civilisation” that we can have one set made up of the overindulged, and another made up of…slaves? In the 21st century? Like, really?

I’ll be honest, when I first saw it on my friend’s profile, I was a bit stunned, but I moved on. I didn’t not care, but it didn’t break my heart. Does it have to break our hearts? Not necessarily. Does that make (our) indifference appropriate? By no means.

We don’t have to care to use the oh-so-abused “Share” button. We don’t have to care to add our voices in any way we can. We don’t have to care. At all. But, maybe that’s why we still don’t have an answer for the question I asked above: “When was slavery abolished?”

Then again, maybe we have more answers than we care to think about. 27 million of them.

He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God?

Micah 6:8 (NKJV)

The Holy Bible, New King James Version Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Waiting for “The One”

23 Saturday Mar 2013

Posted by in Le Shrinking, Reflections

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You know, despite my sometimes realistic (fine, cynical) outlook, it seems the major part of me is still waiting for “the one”. Now, before some people fall off their chairs, let’s clear this up. We are by no means referring to this one person who is supposed to complete me (*ick*). Not only does no such person exist outside of the fertile ground of the imagination, that is too great a burden to place on anyone’s shoulders. But, we digress…

One of the promises I made in my last blog was that I’d stop lying to myself. Facing the truth is…more difficult than my vocabulary would permit me to express. It seems I’m still waiting for this one great thing that will change me…in ways that the combined efforts of the events of the past 27 years have been unable to.

(The above paragraphs were written on March 4. I’m not even sure why I didn’t finish.) This has been a better week than most, thanks to the sheer grace of God, which led to my admission that all I can do is fail. Like, I’m not sure whether other people have such limitations, but I. Rather. Suck. I mean, I’ll know I have things to do and, if I can’t be bothered, I won’t do them. I’ll know what I should do to improve my health, and just not do it. A fear of negative consequences has never been one of the driving forces of my life. If I’m honest, I’ll say I have no driving forces. See why I need Jesus? Teehee.

But, yes, this week has been good. I’ve been productive, disciplined, wise about my health, and I’ve even been nice to people. That, however, has evaporated, man. I’m just not capable of sustaining all that. I don’t have to–easily the best news ever. Yes, I’m still doing those things ±being-nice-to-people, but I constantly need the reminder that there is no great “one”. No one verse of Scripture that will so challenge my heart that I will turn from the wicked ways I’ve made my refuge…no one song that will so galvanise my soul that I will begin to care…no one teaching, camp, gathering, person, decision, act of the human will with sufficient potency to change the very me that is.

“The one” is both not coming and already here. Maybe “the one” isn’t an isolated act, but a series. Maybe it is not that epic moment, but those tiny moments that shape the fabric of humanity as gently and indelibly as water shapes rock. Maybe it is one day at a time, one moment at a time, one breath at a time, all fueled by grace.

Seems to me God has a plan. HE calls us. He calls us to Him; He says all we need to do is come. God doesn’t need an outline of how we’re proposing to be true to Him in the future. We don’t need to impress Him with our reliability–as if we could. Salvation is a gift, not a loan. We need only to accept His gift and live in, and by, His power to please Him. 

I know not where the future leads. Honestly, based on the mural presented by the past and present, I’d rather not know. What I know is I have today. We have today. We have joys and tears, strengths and failings, and all the other contrasts that make us human. And we have the One who saw us coming. The One who made us, knowing full well how much we would fail, how much we would need Him. And still made us, still loves us. Still delights in us.

We have the God who is Love, the only “One” worth waiting for.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

— “Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing” (Robert Robinson, 1758)

Skip A Few

12 Tuesday Mar 2013

Posted by in Le Shrinking, Reflections

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“One. two, skip a few…ninety-nine, a hundred.”

That takes me right back to my childhood and games of hide-and-seek with those creative, borderline unscrupulous individuals who just wouldn’t be nice and decent and just count properly! 🙂 That aside, that silly little song has come in so handy over the years. Unknown to most of the population, whenever “One, two, skip a few…or a lot” or some variation of that features as my Facebook status, it’s my little way of giving myself a heads-up…that I’ve skipped more breaths than is safe.

I often question the existence of my soul (in a purely non-theological fashion). It is as if basic, human elements that function for other people don’t function for me. I used to have them, until the expedient nature of checking out of the human race revealed itself most clearly. I was fine, until I realised I wasn’t.

Very few things touch me deeply enough for me to remember that I may/used to have a soul. Most days, I’m okay with that. Recently, though, it’s as if I’ve been stuck in neutral, or on some nebulous plane that allows me to stand outside of myself and behold the unfolding horror. My mind registers the horror, but nothing responds inside me. Whatever passes for my soul forgets to breathe.

Sometimes, all I need is a good reminder. My sister posted a song I’d heard before, but forgotten how much I’d liked it.  A song so beautifully human. Soul-deep.

According to the lovely folks at Wikipedia, “the song asks the fortunate to consider the plight of the less fortunate”. The writer died at the age of 37, and it makes me wonder how he managed to live so much life in such a short time, for such words can come from nothing but the power of the human experience. Over 150 years later, that power prevails.

It feels strange to share something that so deeply connects with me, but I’d consider it an honour if you would listen to this song. Thank you.

 

“Hard Times Come Again No More” [Stephen Foster (1826-1844)]

Let us pause in life’s pleasures and count its many tears
While we all sup sorrow with the poor
There’s a song that will linger forever in our ears;
Oh, hard times come again no more

Chorus
‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary
Hard times, hard times come again no more
Many days you have lingered
Around my cabin door
Oh, hard times come again no more

While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay
There are frail forms fainting at the door
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say;
Oh, hard times come again no more

‘Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave
‘Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
‘Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
Oh, hard times come again no more