In case you've missed the news of the week, I have a new macbook computer which has, in only two days, become, according to Mrs. Ascher, "my best friend." Yet another cool feature is the built-in dictionary. Tonight I used it because I was pondering some verses.
Nourish- a transitive verb meaning to provide with the food or other substances necessary for growth, health and good condition.
Cherish- a transitive verb meaning to protect and care for someone lovingly; to hold someone or something dear
Ephesians 5:28-29 "In the same way, husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church..."
It's taken me till this advanced age to really get a handle on what I am waiting for in a guy. I mean, I'm not hunting, but I want to be sure I recognize the one when he comes along. Now I realize that I've been analyzing it all too much, even though I acknowledge that the analyzing and pondering and growing of years regarding this issue are what have brought me to my now simplified conclusion.
I'm waiting for someone who resembles Christ in my life. I'm waiting for someone who actively nourishes and cherishes me. It's not enough that he meets some kind of fairy tale checklist. Probably he won't. But he will provide for my growth. He will long to protect me. He will lovingly care for me. That's worth waiting for.
The most exciting thoughts that I have about this passage revolve around the idea that I don't actually have to wait for this. The husband, who may or may not come along, is to follow the example of Christ who already nourishes and cherishes the Church. I'm a part of this church. He is actively nourishing and cherishing me. It doesn't take long to think of daily illustrations of this love that He has for me.
So tonight I lie in bed counting the ways that I am loved and nourished and cherished. And I rejoice. And, perhaps, I will sleep.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Who Am I?
While I want to blog about my trip to the U.S. and all of the excitement and provision of these past few days, I am compelled to write about something that's been on my mind for a long time. I was forced to think about it again as I am preparing my update to Morning Star on Sunday. I was forced to think about it as I evaluated my own life in the last several weeks.
The most dangerous thing that I have found in my new life in China is an old sin: pride.
At the heart of what I do is this fact: I should be living the same life as any other child of the Father is living. Everything should be about His glory. When I go to work, I should work to bring honor to Him. I should long to be a light to my colleagues and students so He is exalted. As I interact with brothers and sisters, whatever I do and say should point to Him. Whether I'm involved in an extra-curricular event or talking on the phone or eating dumplings, He should be my primary thought. Thus my life and the lives of other brothers and sisters in Illinois who work at a nursing home or who live in Tennessee and work at an insurance company or who live in Iowa and work at home with their children should be fundamentally the same.
Admittedly, the moving of my life to the context of a foreign country has affected every part of it. Life is a bit more complicated, at times. I feel that I am continually learning and adjusting. There are new tasks and skills that challenge my mind and also my character. But the essential truths about this move are that I've been given a job that fascinates me, I'm surrounded by people that I've come to love and who show love to me, and I live in a country that I enjoy immensely. The gifts of my new situation far outweigh the challenges.
So where does this pride come in? Well, as a sinful human, pride permeates pretty much every aspect of my life. But in this particular sense, I am often faced with the temptation to see myself as others see me in my new situation. I can be tempted to view myself as my freshmen students see me, or as Chinese people on the street see me, or even as my new friends see me. Even the way that people back in America see me, as I've been reminded this past week, can be a trap for pride. My flesh loves to think of myself as important, special, and interesting: to puff itself up with the idea that what I do or what I have to say is somehow so valuable.
The reality of who I am is only found at the foot of the Cross, and often I find myself running from that truth instead of embracing it. Nothing about me is important or special or interesting without Him and His work in me. The filth that lives inside of me would condemn me without His grace. I am truly privileged to have even a tiny part in any work that He is doing in the lives of others. I'm not indispensable and can easily be put aside if I fail to direct all the praise to Him.
I'm so thankful for His Word which shines a light on my prideful thinking and for the work of the Spirit who points out my going astray and my boastful ideas. I'm also thankful for friends who are examples of humility and of lives entirely focused on Him. I'm especially thankful for the friends who have the wisdom to see me clearly, as He does, and to remind me of my need to continually be looking to Him for perspective.
The most dangerous thing that I have found in my new life in China is an old sin: pride.
At the heart of what I do is this fact: I should be living the same life as any other child of the Father is living. Everything should be about His glory. When I go to work, I should work to bring honor to Him. I should long to be a light to my colleagues and students so He is exalted. As I interact with brothers and sisters, whatever I do and say should point to Him. Whether I'm involved in an extra-curricular event or talking on the phone or eating dumplings, He should be my primary thought. Thus my life and the lives of other brothers and sisters in Illinois who work at a nursing home or who live in Tennessee and work at an insurance company or who live in Iowa and work at home with their children should be fundamentally the same.
Admittedly, the moving of my life to the context of a foreign country has affected every part of it. Life is a bit more complicated, at times. I feel that I am continually learning and adjusting. There are new tasks and skills that challenge my mind and also my character. But the essential truths about this move are that I've been given a job that fascinates me, I'm surrounded by people that I've come to love and who show love to me, and I live in a country that I enjoy immensely. The gifts of my new situation far outweigh the challenges.
So where does this pride come in? Well, as a sinful human, pride permeates pretty much every aspect of my life. But in this particular sense, I am often faced with the temptation to see myself as others see me in my new situation. I can be tempted to view myself as my freshmen students see me, or as Chinese people on the street see me, or even as my new friends see me. Even the way that people back in America see me, as I've been reminded this past week, can be a trap for pride. My flesh loves to think of myself as important, special, and interesting: to puff itself up with the idea that what I do or what I have to say is somehow so valuable.
The reality of who I am is only found at the foot of the Cross, and often I find myself running from that truth instead of embracing it. Nothing about me is important or special or interesting without Him and His work in me. The filth that lives inside of me would condemn me without His grace. I am truly privileged to have even a tiny part in any work that He is doing in the lives of others. I'm not indispensable and can easily be put aside if I fail to direct all the praise to Him.
I'm so thankful for His Word which shines a light on my prideful thinking and for the work of the Spirit who points out my going astray and my boastful ideas. I'm also thankful for friends who are examples of humility and of lives entirely focused on Him. I'm especially thankful for the friends who have the wisdom to see me clearly, as He does, and to remind me of my need to continually be looking to Him for perspective.
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