22 May 2006

Suddenly Homesick

Today was a good day. I went in to work, had to wait until it was verified that I was working, took a nap in the meantime (which was a major blessing), worked all day, came home, spent time with the parents watching movies and, most importantly, kept my mind off of what I need work to help me keep my mind of off.

But as soon as I went up to my room and listened to the recording on someone's voicemail, I felt so incredibly homesick.

So, I focused my attention to reading, reading Ezekiel 26 and finishing "The Dangerous Duty of Delight" by John Piper.

I must say I still don't know what to take away from this little book. I understand the concepts - his explication of Christian Hedonism is incredibly well-done, but I just don't know what it looks like practically for me in this time and place.

Perhaps I'm just overthinking all of this. Maybe it's a heck of a lot simpler than I'd like to think it is... I just can't get my brain to that point. 

There are so many things that I desire, believing that they are good desires, but can I truly set them aside for the joy set before me? Can I set them aside in joy and not as a sacrifice? Where there is "sacrifice," there is some level of self-pity, so how do I separate out what has been so thoroughly mixed?

It is so beautiful when it storms. I remember watching the thunderheads roll in and the lightning jump between clouds when I was younger - I anticipated it every summer. 

A storm is beginning inside of me, but I cannot enjoy it as I do the seasonal thunderstorms. 

Perhaps that is where my greatest lesson is to be found.

Mood: Contemplative Listening to: The stillness after the storm
Reading: John Piper, The Dangerous Duty of Delight

1 comment:

Edwin Smith said...

Been reading your posts...

I feel like I'm in exactly the same situation. Ironically, I was just reading the first couple chapters of Desiring God, and thinking similar things.

Although, perhaps, I can see that it is simpler than I'm making it. I just need to stop being complacent and look to Him. I have never felt the "flesh is weak" so consistently as I have in this past week.

Learning to cling only to Christ is a lesson in holding on tight as you're shaken like a rug, made dust-free by Jesus.