All our lives we've been told to aim high. To take strides to be "who you want to be." Be free. Be your own man. "Live life" as American Eagle reminds us. Millions buy self-help books in hopes of unlocking some hidden treasure within - a thinner, prettier, more successful, balanced, Feng Shui version of the person they already are.
We strive. We work our fingers to the bone to get the corner office, the fancy cars, the 4-bedroom tudor in the best part of the suburbs, send our kids to the best schools so they can, in turn, get the corner office. And the fancy cars. And the 4-bedroom tudor in the best part of the city.
We want to be accepted. Popular. Included yet exclusive. Admired. Loved. Relied upon. Needed.
We want to make a name for ourselves. To leave a mark. Our mark.
Today Geoff gave a sermon based on the second chapter of Daniel. He challenged all of us (I HATE/LOVE when he does this, BTW) to re-consider ourselves. To check ourselves. Our motives. Our efforts. Our concepts of identity. To inspect the foundations we have built our lives upon.
Are you building the kingdom of self? A world without God?
We are all shaping, forming, creating. Daily. In the decisions we make, in the lives of those around us. In the day-to-day things that seem so mundane. They (the daily decisions/experiences of life) are the Legos and mortar of this temple (us).
These past few months as I've relished the thought of moving away from here, from this insanity I have learned to call "life", I've struggled and wrestled with my thoughts. A lot.
I have wondered if this desire to move to Nashville that I've been so longing to do for an eternity, is a part of God's plans or hashed out of my tired, little brain and dire circumstances. I wonder why I feel this pull, why I want to go. So badly.
And in light of Geoff's sermon this morning, I am left confused. Bewildered. Stuck.
I wonder if these decisions I make - the experiences, the wishing and hoping and praying for relief - are simply my idols of the day, or if there's something real. Are they made of holy matter refined in God's fires and formed by His hands? Or are they my poor clay and dirt creations? My kindergarten attempts at creating the art in me?
I know I don't belong here. At least, not for the moment. But, where? And when?
We strive. We work our fingers to the bone to get the corner office, the fancy cars, the 4-bedroom tudor in the best part of the suburbs, send our kids to the best schools so they can, in turn, get the corner office. And the fancy cars. And the 4-bedroom tudor in the best part of the city.
We want to be accepted. Popular. Included yet exclusive. Admired. Loved. Relied upon. Needed.
We want to make a name for ourselves. To leave a mark. Our mark.
Today Geoff gave a sermon based on the second chapter of Daniel. He challenged all of us (I HATE/LOVE when he does this, BTW) to re-consider ourselves. To check ourselves. Our motives. Our efforts. Our concepts of identity. To inspect the foundations we have built our lives upon.
Are you building the kingdom of self? A world without God?
We are all shaping, forming, creating. Daily. In the decisions we make, in the lives of those around us. In the day-to-day things that seem so mundane. They (the daily decisions/experiences of life) are the Legos and mortar of this temple (us).
These past few months as I've relished the thought of moving away from here, from this insanity I have learned to call "life", I've struggled and wrestled with my thoughts. A lot.
I have wondered if this desire to move to Nashville that I've been so longing to do for an eternity, is a part of God's plans or hashed out of my tired, little brain and dire circumstances. I wonder why I feel this pull, why I want to go. So badly.
And in light of Geoff's sermon this morning, I am left confused. Bewildered. Stuck.
I wonder if these decisions I make - the experiences, the wishing and hoping and praying for relief - are simply my idols of the day, or if there's something real. Are they made of holy matter refined in God's fires and formed by His hands? Or are they my poor clay and dirt creations? My kindergarten attempts at creating the art in me?
I know I don't belong here. At least, not for the moment. But, where? And when?
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