An attempt to declare the Glory of God for what He has chosen to do with our lives. A legacy to leave to my children in the telling of it.

Friday, August 15, 2014

To Love the World

Over the last thirty days life has changed drastically. The ties to the farm are lessening with a six month rent to own contract having been signed, and we now wake up every morning to a lake view rather than to the cry of demanding critters. Sigh. It's good. Guiltily, pleasurably, insanely indulgently good, almost on the brink of boredom sometimes, but good. Farming was good, too, for the numerous years that we enjoyed it. But when you stop enjoying something, it's time to move on. The Lord called, and here we are, waiting for further instructions.

Perhaps I will chronicle our beginning struggles and triumphs to settle this little .7 acre haven another day, but this morning this verse stopped me in my tracks.

Do not love the world or anything in the world. 
If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in him. 
For everything in the world-
the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does-
comes not from the Father but from the world. 
The world and its desires pass away, 
but the man who does the will of God lives forever. 
1 John 2:15-17

The love of the world. What a powerful force. It creeps its way into our hearts and soon overtakes. It oftentimes becomes our reality, until reality reveals itself for what it really is. Our made up worlds with their made up prizes consume us, and we realize sometimes too late that we were our own creators of them rather than seeking The Creator. I don't want to realize too late that I invested into the wrong kingdom. Our families desire as we set out over a year ago to leave it all behind was to intentionally push forth the Kingdom of Jesus. Now we ponder how.

If my strength comes from being united with Christ, then I must start there. But my mind is in a jumble. Demands of the necessity of living have temporarily overtaken my energy for seeking that source. A sewer, some water and electricity, and finally as of this week, the joys of Wi-Fi. Then I am somehow shocked, in the midst of it, to realize for the billionth time that my son is in Heaven. The familiar panic attacks hit with a vengeance. Reality again rears its head above the pseudo peace that envelops this new life of ease. This world and its desires are passing away. I don't have to look very far for the truth of that Scripture. All worldly cravings, all the hungers to boast and long for and desire temporary delights do not come from the Father. The crevice in my brain that holds that truth appears again, I can feel the power of it in my soul. This world is not my home. I remind myself that I am a sojourner, only traveling through. Being bogged down with more stuff should not be my desire.

Then what is?

I don't know. Answering that question has consumed me. I don't know what it is to truly live for Christ, live for eternity, live to make a difference, live to not waste my life on the day that I stand before the God of the universe. The overwhelming knowledge of an Abba Father God is very prominent in my knowing of who He is, but so is the Master of the Talents who really will call for an account. My fear is myself. Scared to give it all, share it all, lest it be trampled here. But I forget in that line of thought that even if God's work is trampled here by man, there is a heavenly host watching where that trampling has glory. It is worth it to give all, love all, and forsake the world.

God has allowed rest. He seems to be calling, encouraging, offering, insisting rest. But I don't know how to rest in Him. It seems to be more work to rest in Him than to make my own way. Even if I am incapable, He has continued to pour out blessings. This God who provides is a profound revelation. It's not something that I quite know how to sort out. My emotions feel flat lined even as I long to feel the power of the goodness of God, but at the same time I am too scared to. Imagine the power of that depth of love. Not for my sake, not for my self righteousness, but because it cost the blood of His Son to love me so deeply. And after that crushing of His beloved, because of it, God loves me. Letting that sink in must require rest.

A lighthouse was the other word that God applied to this move. As we inch our way into this settled community of lake dwellers, I have prayed to be a lighthouse of the gospel. As our house sits a bit on a hill, I can envision the light of Christ shining out. At least I hope it will be shining out. I want immediate, but I forget that God works on a different time table. Usually years, rather than moments. But the moments add up to years, and there have already been so many powerful moments to add to the equation. Our home, half done as it is, has had an open door to visitors nearly everyday since we've been here. Not minding that there is no front deck, and even enduring the outhouse, lack of electricity and meals cooked on a propane cylinder, God has brought so many souls to pour into. How I love this aspect of our new location.

A good reminder, this swift kick of sound theology this morning, as I sit enjoying the view this side of Heaven. This lake is passing away, this house is passing away, along with everything inside of it, even this body is passing away. But the one who does the will of God lives forever. I hope Jesus comes soon. I hope I am found being faithful when He does.