Remembering and Forgetting
My friend Calli English in a blog-like 21st century equivalent to the circular letter admitted to a certain peevishness on vacation and out of her routine as she and her husband Isaiah moved from one activity to another. As she examined her feelings, she admitted, "I often hoard reflection and 'soaking in' time because I fear losing what I’ve learned."
I resemble that remark. Reflection and soaking in time for me has been richly rewarding. As this time in God's Word yields insights, I want more, and that's mostly good. Since Charles Spurgeon's Morning and Evening has proven to speak to my soul, I can't miss it. I've also added Tim Keller's daily devotionals Songs of Jesus and God's Wisdom for Navigating Life without pruning anything from this rigid introvert's daily list. Gaining insight from such trusted sources, I prioritize remembering it and putting it where I can access it. To do otherwise would be to look in the mirror and go away forgetting what I look like (James 1:24). I've got to religiously squirrel away glittering phrases in God's eighth-day creation, OneNote.
Writing adds additional layers on my sense of ritual well-being. If one blog has through the years helped me to chunk together and retain what God is teaching me, dogged commitment to two of them will double or square the process of my remaking in Christ's image, or so I reason. Yesterday's adaptations, in the words of Ronald A. Heifetz's The Practice of Adaptive Leadership, become today's routines. Today's routines may, ironically, distract from the original purpose of the adaptation. C.S. Lewis hints at this in Perelandra when he says the root of all evil may be the desire to have the same pleasures over and over again rather than taking life as it comes by God's sovereign gift.
Sharing something of my predicament as an introvert who can admit to sometimes finding adapting to the rest of the world an inconvenience, English finds the fire of idolatry behind the smoke of symptom. She also points to an aspect of Christ's righteousness in which we ruffled introverts can rest. "It’s not my job to decide what lessons God is trying to teach me," she discerns. "It’s not my job to set aside time to soak these in either. It’s not even my responsibility to make sure I’m learning and growing. This job belongs to God, in the person and work of the Holy Spirit. I have been, for some time now, taking on at least a good portion of the responsibility of my own sanctification."
Christ, after all, loosed torrents of profundity at one time. He challenged the basic assumptions at the root of His disciples' processing, then He moved on with them to another topic or ministry opportunity. His trust was where He placed theirs, and ours – in the Holy Spirit. He assured disciples in every era in John 14:26, "The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things I said to you., The Holy Spirit's job as Comforter and not as Scold is to teach us all things and bring to our minds what Christ has taught us. What He, as we trust Him, will help us forget is our self-centered preoccupation.
I resemble that remark. Reflection and soaking in time for me has been richly rewarding. As this time in God's Word yields insights, I want more, and that's mostly good. Since Charles Spurgeon's Morning and Evening has proven to speak to my soul, I can't miss it. I've also added Tim Keller's daily devotionals Songs of Jesus and God's Wisdom for Navigating Life without pruning anything from this rigid introvert's daily list. Gaining insight from such trusted sources, I prioritize remembering it and putting it where I can access it. To do otherwise would be to look in the mirror and go away forgetting what I look like (James 1:24). I've got to religiously squirrel away glittering phrases in God's eighth-day creation, OneNote.
Writing adds additional layers on my sense of ritual well-being. If one blog has through the years helped me to chunk together and retain what God is teaching me, dogged commitment to two of them will double or square the process of my remaking in Christ's image, or so I reason. Yesterday's adaptations, in the words of Ronald A. Heifetz's The Practice of Adaptive Leadership, become today's routines. Today's routines may, ironically, distract from the original purpose of the adaptation. C.S. Lewis hints at this in Perelandra when he says the root of all evil may be the desire to have the same pleasures over and over again rather than taking life as it comes by God's sovereign gift.
Sharing something of my predicament as an introvert who can admit to sometimes finding adapting to the rest of the world an inconvenience, English finds the fire of idolatry behind the smoke of symptom. She also points to an aspect of Christ's righteousness in which we ruffled introverts can rest. "It’s not my job to decide what lessons God is trying to teach me," she discerns. "It’s not my job to set aside time to soak these in either. It’s not even my responsibility to make sure I’m learning and growing. This job belongs to God, in the person and work of the Holy Spirit. I have been, for some time now, taking on at least a good portion of the responsibility of my own sanctification."
Christ, after all, loosed torrents of profundity at one time. He challenged the basic assumptions at the root of His disciples' processing, then He moved on with them to another topic or ministry opportunity. His trust was where He placed theirs, and ours – in the Holy Spirit. He assured disciples in every era in John 14:26, "The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things I said to you., The Holy Spirit's job as Comforter and not as Scold is to teach us all things and bring to our minds what Christ has taught us. What He, as we trust Him, will help us forget is our self-centered preoccupation.
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