Purely Personal

This week my grandson Sailor turned three. I want to share with you the piece I wrote on the day he was born. He came a bit early. I was not there. I was an assistant leader on a trip to Israel. At the very time he was born in Austin, I was in the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. When I got back to the hotel, I found out that he had been born and at the time I was in the church— about the time I took the photo above.  So I wrote this piece:

An April day and far away I hear of you

Born on the day that I stand in Bethlehem

All around the icons of Mary and her baby

Watch me, smiling at what they know...

That your mother has strained in the morning

And brought you to light.

I feel so far away from you and my heart would break

If I did not know that the One who caused the sun to rise in Bethlehem

Caused the son of my son to rise in Austin

So in my heart -- peace, as I wait to hold you.

'Til then, I pray 

Bless God the Almighty, the Maker of heaven and earth

For the great gift of life in Sailor Durham Sharp

Now may you be blessed with faith, love and hope all your life

And may you be an instrument of justice in the hand of God.

Amen.

It was a good day. Happy Birthday, Sail!

Breathing In and Out in the Kingdom of God

Jesus told his followers that he was doing the work of his Father. He came into the world with something to do. He was on a mission. Jesus had his identity. He had his relationship with the Father and the Spirit. Jesus was completely stocked with all the desired inner life elements. The inward disciplines of retreat and prayer were a part of maintaining his life.  All of the innerness prepared him for his outward life -- the life of giving, listening, serving, healing, teaching, hurting, crying, suffering, dying. His inner life undergirded his outer life -- his work.

While one could argue that a life of inner devotion might be a work offered to God, that is not a complete offering by any means. We are meant to get on with doing the work of the Kingdom of God. The inner life and outer life are two sides of our Christian respiration. We have heard it forever. We cannot just breath in and in and in. We cannot always exhale. The rhythm of life and the rhythm of Christian life are the same: breath in and breath out.

What I have learned about all this from myself is that my fleshly self doesn't want to breath in or out in the Kingdom of God. My flesh does not want the holy desire of my spirit or the presence of the Holy Spirit. Like an obstructing airway, my dark heart does not want early mornings with the Lord or late night devotion. My flesh wants to reserve my inner world for fears and imaginings unspeakable. My flesh does not want me to take time and energy for acts of faith. My flesh makes out my Daytimer without room for caring for others. My flesh is always trying to book me for stardom and attention. My flesh cares nothing for crosses — not that of Christ, not one for me. My flesh has one hand around my throat crushing my airway; the other hand tries to trip me every step I take toward loving action.

So today I have to commit out of my heart and mind to want what my flesh cannot stand. I have to commit to want the life God can give in Christ. Against the backdrop of the disaster my flesh desires for me, I can see a different life. I can see life in the presence of God's sweet Holy Spirit. I can see the Cross of Christ as the expression of God's love for the world and for me in that world. I can open myself to holy CPR as God breathes his Spirit into me. I can open myself as the example of the ministry of Jesus calls my Spirit-given gifts into meaningful action. I can see that life. 

I pray that my spirit's hopes will overcome the desire of the flesh. When I died to the flesh in Christ and was raised with the Holy Spirit, this impossible life became possible. Today I must urge my spirit to continue to want in me what the Holy Spirit wants in me: breathing in and out in the Kingdom of God. We can do this. By God's grace,we can do this.

God help us all.