he who loses his life for my sake, will find it. Matthew 10:39

Sometimes I get tired of being a disciple of Christ because it seems I’m  always walking against the tide of world opinion;  sometimes against natural inclination.  It would be so much easier to just do what my ungodly self sometimes dictates – the cross word, the judgemental attitude and so on.

I’ve realized at last, that to take up the cross, you must indeed lose your own life and follow one whose steps led to the cross;  to  injustice, conquest, loss, pain, defeat, albeit in a temporary time frame and arena.

And yet, even as I write, I know again the call of Christ on my life. I know that I cannot live, ignoring the promise of heaven’s sunrise. I’ve tasted the Spirit Life and now it invites me to plunge into that different stream and be swept along in it’s gentle current. It means leaving the shores of earth- attitudes and living in communion with God’s Spirit;  of letting Him have the upper hand in my will and life.  It’s a very peaceful way to live, whatever the circumstances. God’s peace does indeed, pass all understanding. 

There is along with this, the accompanying experience of my feet touching the leaden earth and all the weight of my “real world” cares still rest on me.  But in a wonderfully inexplicable way, I carry these “world weights” much lighter, when I am allowing the Spirit the dominant presence in my soul.  It’s a very light, unobtrusive presence, yet it’s very powerful.  It is not all razzamatazz and signs and wonders;  it is not an excitable presence;  it is the abiding divinity of God being shared with my heart and soul. This is what makes living as a Christian not just “do-able” but easy, when it’s God's character in me which lives and acts in Godly ways.  It enables me to love and forgive people, even those who are unlovable and hard to forgive. (Forgiving takes time but is much easier when the Spirit of the merciful Christ is in my vision and resolve).

But still, sometimes, there is this hesitation to plunge in and “seek first the Kingdom”.  I’m afraid of being too different;  I’m afraid of giving up the control of my own life, even though I’ve been unhappy and frustrated in the past by wanting my life to produce what I think I need from it;  income, husband, security etc. Because sometimes, it still seems like a surrendered soul is one which is un-noticed and unacknowledged;  as though I’m living out this authentic faith and it doesn’t bring anyone else closer to God. But I know there is a vast unseen sea of things which my prayers and my life have done.  I wouldn’t want to be more than ordinary. And it’s been this very attitude of surrender which has given me wings to soar out of the dungeon of my own self-pity at all the rejection, abandonment and bullying I’ve experienced at the hands of others.  It’s been this surrender to the Spirit life which has given me self-esteem, strength and empowerment. It’s another of the parodies of the precepts of God:  the one who loses his life for my sake will gain it;  not just in heaven, but on earth too;  a rich, calm, steadfast, meaningful life.

So surrender doesn’t mean to be bowed and beaten;  it means giving over the blueprint of who you are, and all you think you need, to the One who gave up His life, and set an example of humility leading to honour, for us all to follow. It means harvesting a great crop of the fruit of righteousness which beings peace, integrity, strength

contentedness; some thoughts on Philipians 4:10-13

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Phillipians%204:10-13&version=NIV

I hope I’m starting to live that verse “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content”

I’m not sure I could tell someone else how to do it because it’s something I’ve come to by living through my life thus far. It has not been the default option;  I’ve come to it really, through having just about every little dream I had as a young woman, stolen, shattered, diminished or impinged with sorrow.

My two lovely girls remain;  shafts of light in a family sectioned by brokenness, betrayal, abandonment and grief;  they are silvered gems set in a sea of disappointment. They are what remain.  I am learning to greatly value what remains, not to the diminishment of what was taken away, but rather, the losses make what remains more cherished.  Cherished today. The future, like the past, is another country.

My contentedness is not so much a result of my now-calm life, but rather because I have learned not to hold on to things too tightly, lest they be taken away.

I no longer have the capacity to dream, or the expectation of future blessings.  I have no emotional impetus to want or expect things – even good things because they always carry with them a package of possible disappointment.  I have opened so many such packages.

That sounds bleak.  It has the dull thudding bell of resignation about it.  It seems like the gloom of having nothing to look forward to;  or no longer living in hopefulness. It isn’t like that. I do look forward to things, but they are always simple things, like enjoying a quiet evening at home, at the end of a busy day;  or watching the blue wrens find their breakfast in my garden.  I look forward to time spent with family;  more grandchildren; retiring from the workforce one day.  The difference is, I no longer hold onto these things with a tight will.  I hope they do happen, but I don’t expect anything more than what I have at the moment. If I look to the future with no expectations, then out of that flows the well-spring of contentedness;  the sister of contentedness is acceptance of how things really are;  “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content”.

I have journeyed so far beyond deciding what I want for me.  I’ve journeyed to a calm, valley of thankfulness for what remains;  the deep anchor of acceptance of what God has allowed to be taken;  the promise of strength in whatever is to come.  I simply live in the present now. If good things come in the future – as I’m sure they will – my heart will rejoice.

I am learning too, to live the verses in Romans 5: 3-5

 Not only so, but we  also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

If I look to the future with no plans or desires of what I want it to hold, it is not hopeless, but rather filled with the hope that does not disappoint. Contentedness is a rare commodity;  found after you’ve discarded (or had taken) all the glittering worldly prizes you thought you so wanted.  Contentedness is part of hope;  hope in a Divine nature which is always working in us to complete the good work God started in us when we first began our journey with Him.

It is good to have plans and ambitions and goals - especially when we are young.  Just don't hold onto them too tightly.  Make the default option acceptance of what is, and then contentedness with what God has ordained.