No blessing is meaningless.
I'm not sure if this is explicitly biblical or not, oh, I'm afraid I assume so many things that aren't explicitly biblical, it's just, a very thick book and I, have a very transient memory, but I'm trying, trying . . .
Anyway.
I was driving home from school. I guess, home is the Bankstons' house, part of the time; quite strange, but still quite true. I was driving home and I was listening to KLove, and, they're in the middle of their fall pledge drive, which I try not to resent too much, because it's a legitimate ministry and they have to pay the bills somehow, and I try to empathize with it all as best as I can. So, the DJ is give a request for donations and he said, "Maybe you're wondering why God has blessed you in the economic downturn -- perhaps it was for the purpose of supporting KLove."
Or something like that. Here something clicked. I ask that a lot, mostly. Why have you blessed me, God? It's dumbfounding, really. I have honest confusion and awe at the reality of the sheer volume of blessings that have rained down on my short life. The greatest family, the greatest friends, the greatest church, the greatest opportunities, even just in terms of socio-economic standing: a white middle-class female in the United States. In the worldly order of things, I am immensely privileged and I didn't even have to d0 anything. And so I sit here feeling very uncomfortable, wondering why.
To whom much is given, much will be required . . .
So no blessing is meaningless. While I imagine it brings God joy to bless his children, I also know whose movie I'm in. The plot isn't about me. I'm barely even a townsperson #24 in the cast. My function on the set? To glorify God and enjoy Him for ever. Ultimately every blessing He has given me as some function in reflecting the glory back to Him.
I wonder how much I just absorb and file away until the memory disintegrates. I take things in with the intention of sorting them, dwelling on them, referring back to them, but sometimes I just hold them in so long that they fade away and I forget those thoughts ever exists or that those things ever happened. Fickle transient memory. Sometimes my reluctance to self-disclose detracts from my duty and purpose, though. My mom told me once about a popcorn prayer in service, when she held in a prayer only to hear someone else in the room shout it out. She told me that God will be glorified with or without us, but there's so much more of a joy in fulfilling our purpose and testifying of His goodness.
So, I'm learning. A pat lesson for the day. Articulated that I might remember. I have been blessed because my God is good and must be glorified. Go now and walk in it.
[How?]
I'm not sure if this is explicitly biblical or not, oh, I'm afraid I assume so many things that aren't explicitly biblical, it's just, a very thick book and I, have a very transient memory, but I'm trying, trying . . .
Anyway.
I was driving home from school. I guess, home is the Bankstons' house, part of the time; quite strange, but still quite true. I was driving home and I was listening to KLove, and, they're in the middle of their fall pledge drive, which I try not to resent too much, because it's a legitimate ministry and they have to pay the bills somehow, and I try to empathize with it all as best as I can. So, the DJ is give a request for donations and he said, "Maybe you're wondering why God has blessed you in the economic downturn -- perhaps it was for the purpose of supporting KLove."
Or something like that. Here something clicked. I ask that a lot, mostly. Why have you blessed me, God? It's dumbfounding, really. I have honest confusion and awe at the reality of the sheer volume of blessings that have rained down on my short life. The greatest family, the greatest friends, the greatest church, the greatest opportunities, even just in terms of socio-economic standing: a white middle-class female in the United States. In the worldly order of things, I am immensely privileged and I didn't even have to d0 anything. And so I sit here feeling very uncomfortable, wondering why.
To whom much is given, much will be required . . .
So no blessing is meaningless. While I imagine it brings God joy to bless his children, I also know whose movie I'm in. The plot isn't about me. I'm barely even a townsperson #24 in the cast. My function on the set? To glorify God and enjoy Him for ever. Ultimately every blessing He has given me as some function in reflecting the glory back to Him.
I wonder how much I just absorb and file away until the memory disintegrates. I take things in with the intention of sorting them, dwelling on them, referring back to them, but sometimes I just hold them in so long that they fade away and I forget those thoughts ever exists or that those things ever happened. Fickle transient memory. Sometimes my reluctance to self-disclose detracts from my duty and purpose, though. My mom told me once about a popcorn prayer in service, when she held in a prayer only to hear someone else in the room shout it out. She told me that God will be glorified with or without us, but there's so much more of a joy in fulfilling our purpose and testifying of His goodness.
So, I'm learning. A pat lesson for the day. Articulated that I might remember. I have been blessed because my God is good and must be glorified. Go now and walk in it.
[How?]
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