grace

I generally have these blog entries well thought out beforehand, but there is so much stirring within me that as dangerous as it might be, I think I will go with flow of consciousness.

I am being hard on myself today. I am most days, but usually only in small spurts. I think every era in time comes with its own set of hardships, its own advantages but also its disadvantages. Let me start from the beginning of this thought, though.

The other night I found my patience tried, like a frayed end of a proverbial string that was starting to unravel until it was just going to plummet to the ground. I was uncharacteristically frustrated and it was completely unnecessary. The things that were eating at me were all self-induced, the result of me accessing social and mental portals that were supposed to serve as mere distraction as opposed to substantial uses of my time or efforts. I began to think that this was life's way of punishing me for errant time and lazy behavior, and that I was learning an important lesson. I cannot argue for or against that, there might be some substance there, or I simply might be logically paving a path ahead of me I can take that will keep me from rocky terrain. Either way, it was a refreshing and eye-opening lesson to me that I cannot use my time of frivolous practices.

Social networking is a funny thing, in fact I am utilizing it right now by typing this blog, and I will follow it up with my usual Twitter and Facebook postings so that people who are bored or are naturally voyeuristic about the thoughts of another person can feed those urges. I see nothing wrong with that - reality shows prove that we are curious how other people live or exist. And because we are so curious about others, I think it is apparent we all want to foster curiosity about our own lives as well.

I find myself frustrated by the need to post things for all of my 759 friends on Facebook to see (minus those that surely have hidden me because I am either annoying, pointless, or offended with my religious views). Am I a victim of self-serving, or trying to assert my life is worth of others curiosity? Am I being fruitful and purposeful? Am I trying to rally the fans of Daniel Johnson's Life, or am I pointing you in a direction which will help you grow, think, reflect, or ponder? It is a constant struggle to want to help other people but not think about how it reflects on you as well. Pastor Rob (my senior pastor at Shoreline) said that he lives to make his wife happy, and then when she is happy it reflects on him and can express to other people that he is a good husband. It was clear that his motivation does not lie in wanting to show off himself to others, but do I always share that same motivation?

Am I important? Do I matter? I sometimes can actually sit back in my office chair and truly comprehend the vast amount of people that I share this city, this state, this country, and this globe with. Unless I am on the television, featured on Youtube, or prancing around on stage somewhere upsetting Taylor Swift, I do not get the amount of attention that I see other people get. I do not receive the acclaim, the reverence, or respect they get. And while part of me would be content to love one person and have them supply those things to me as I do them, part of me also wants it from everyone.

I can admit this, I am flawed. I am a self-serving, attention-seeking, loud-mouthed wanderer inherently. The core of who I am is selfish and only interested in convincing other people that I am someone you need to know, to befriend, and to follow. And if people buy into that, then I am leading them as the piper did the children off the cliff and into the abyss.

This is where my frustration lies, this is where I am the most guilty of my flesh being in control when I let it. This is my biggest struggle, and the hardest part of being human. Scripture? I would not know where to start with things that can be said which correlate to the pursuit of self vs. the pursuit of humility and servant hood. I think the whole story of the Bible begins with a foundation of man and woman being selfish, following their own desires and curiosity, laying down their faith in the process. And then it is all a spiraling menagerie of stories that further drive home the point that we are depraved, that we are selfish, unkind, and out to belittle, destroy, or kill those in our way.

And yet at the end of it all is the final testament of ultimate grace. The end of the story is that every instance of being told that, in spite of who we are, we are given the treasure that we could never afford. We are not the masters of our destiny, of our heritage, our inheritance. We, initiated by faith, are merely the recipients and there is nothing we can do to void that when we sign the contract and take what is rightfully ours.

It baffles me how along the way I can be so ugly, so downright detestable, and yet I am given a key to a kingdom that I was never worth of but that I have ownership in. This is the story of grace that stirs me, that gives me hope not just for myself but for those around me that madden, frustrate, and aggravate me. It is out of this and this alone that I find myself wanting to act in a different accord, against my own nature. I cannot earn grace nor can I lose it, but I will absolutely not live in such a way that says I will take advantage of it.