What's this? What's this?
Have you seen Nightmare Before Christmas? Like a bear waking from his winter cave, the song "What's this?" stirred and stretched and sauntered out of my memory yesterday. Looking around at my new environment - new house, new neighbors, new city, new community, new colors, sights and sounds - my heart began to stir with a wonder and excitement I haven't felt for some time. I suppose all of this newness awakened the song, somewhat appropriately for this occasion as I look around at this place I now call home.
Unlike the "Christmas town" which Jack discovers where people are singing and throwing snowballs in the expectant dawn of Christmas, I am in Memphis, Tennessee. Certainly no snow here. But my eyes and ears are thirsty as they drink deeply from my new surroundings. My heart, too. I've been tired and restless of late and this move seems to be stirring me from a slumber. No, moving is not a quick fix. Our hearts are much more complicated than that. But I'm learning that sometimes you do need change. Not change for change sake, but change which turns on the hinges of something more solid and enduring. Something like a bigger vision of living life under the good and loving reign of Jesus Christ. His holy love transcends my undulating obedience and temperamental devotion. Thankfully, as I enter into this season of change, I can trust that he is bigger than the possible failures or fickleness which may be incipient in this change. I cling to the hope of his transforming grace which calls me out of the suffocating fears which threaten to numb and deaden me.
My prayer is that this "What's this?" perspective will not just be a temporary gust in my sails, but a threshold by which I cross over into a new way of living in the kingdom. May wonder and awe at my Father Creator grow within my soul like a spring ivy. May I think less about my changes and my perspective and more about what Jesus is doing around me.
Speaking of what he's doing around me, I look forward to sharing a brief story about a neighbor in my next post.
Unlike the "Christmas town" which Jack discovers where people are singing and throwing snowballs in the expectant dawn of Christmas, I am in Memphis, Tennessee. Certainly no snow here. But my eyes and ears are thirsty as they drink deeply from my new surroundings. My heart, too. I've been tired and restless of late and this move seems to be stirring me from a slumber. No, moving is not a quick fix. Our hearts are much more complicated than that. But I'm learning that sometimes you do need change. Not change for change sake, but change which turns on the hinges of something more solid and enduring. Something like a bigger vision of living life under the good and loving reign of Jesus Christ. His holy love transcends my undulating obedience and temperamental devotion. Thankfully, as I enter into this season of change, I can trust that he is bigger than the possible failures or fickleness which may be incipient in this change. I cling to the hope of his transforming grace which calls me out of the suffocating fears which threaten to numb and deaden me.
My prayer is that this "What's this?" perspective will not just be a temporary gust in my sails, but a threshold by which I cross over into a new way of living in the kingdom. May wonder and awe at my Father Creator grow within my soul like a spring ivy. May I think less about my changes and my perspective and more about what Jesus is doing around me.
Speaking of what he's doing around me, I look forward to sharing a brief story about a neighbor in my next post.
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