I'm sitting here upstairs as I listen to these ice pellets fall. I learn that this isn't a half snow / half rain combination; it's an entirely different kind of phenomenon.
It's amazing. And it means something to me.
An ice pellet forms when a snowflake melts as it falls through a warm layer of air but then refreezes when it passes through a below-freezing layer of air.
I learn that such ice pellets tell us that a nice warm front is on the way. The temperatures will rise this week!
This chiming catastrophe of early dismissals and traffic horrors, this pinging mess of accidents waiting to happen indicates an advancing mass of warm air. It's the pregame; it's the prelude; it's the overture. In other words, this dreary precipitation outside my window that has canceled everything isn't the most important thing happening. It's simply introducing the great thing coming next.
Warmth! Spring! It's coming!
Living with flair means that sometimes what's happening isn't the most important thing. What's coming next is.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Monday, March 2, 2015
Balm
You know when you're absolutely freezing, and then you walk into a warm building? You know that feeling of being wrapped up in warmth, completely covered by it? It's the best feeling. Today I enter my campus building feeling particularly icy--both physically and emotionally.
I enter the building: warmth. I sit there in the stairwell and experience the balm of it, so soothing and comforting against the physical experience of cold. But what about my icy mood? My stress and guilt over things undone, personal weaknesses, selfish thoughts, and complaints? What about the ice cold me: the girl who doesn't want to be inconvenienced, who controls everything, and who battles all kinds of internal demons?
I remember Romans 8:1: "Therefore, there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death."
No condemnation--not in the past, not now, not ever. I place my icy self in the warm embrace of this truth and let the balm soothe and heal. I'm set free from this law of sin and death. I melt by the warmth of this reality.
I enter the building: warmth. I sit there in the stairwell and experience the balm of it, so soothing and comforting against the physical experience of cold. But what about my icy mood? My stress and guilt over things undone, personal weaknesses, selfish thoughts, and complaints? What about the ice cold me: the girl who doesn't want to be inconvenienced, who controls everything, and who battles all kinds of internal demons?
I remember Romans 8:1: "Therefore, there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death."
No condemnation--not in the past, not now, not ever. I place my icy self in the warm embrace of this truth and let the balm soothe and heal. I'm set free from this law of sin and death. I melt by the warmth of this reality.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
What I Am Afraid of Losing
On some days, I find myself begging God to display His mercy in my life so I will not have to suffer greatly. As I grow in maturity and grow in faith and dependence on God, I still worry about pain and suffering in the form of losing loved ones.
I'm willing to let God control and direct all things about my life, but I still say, "Oh, but please be merciful! Please!"
I find such a comforting truth in Jacques Philippe's Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart. My wise counselor recommended this years ago as I battled daily anxiety and fear.
Philippe writes, "The Lord can leave us wanting relative to certain things (sometimes judged indispensable in the eyes of the world), but He never leaves us deprived of what is essential: His presence, His peace, and all that is necessary for the complete fulfillment of our lives, according to His plans for us."
I find great comfort in the truth that God never deprives us of what is essential. And that, with God's power--by faith--I learn more and more to hope against all hope when I experience suffering.
As I travel this week to the funeral of a childhood friend who died of complications from cancer, I think of his sweet wife and precious three young children he leaves behind. I pray that this whole family experiences the essential presence of Jesus, His peace, and "all that is necessary for the complete fulfillment" of their lives. They must hope against all hope to do so.
I'm willing to let God control and direct all things about my life, but I still say, "Oh, but please be merciful! Please!"
I find such a comforting truth in Jacques Philippe's Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart. My wise counselor recommended this years ago as I battled daily anxiety and fear.
Philippe writes, "The Lord can leave us wanting relative to certain things (sometimes judged indispensable in the eyes of the world), but He never leaves us deprived of what is essential: His presence, His peace, and all that is necessary for the complete fulfillment of our lives, according to His plans for us."
I find great comfort in the truth that God never deprives us of what is essential. And that, with God's power--by faith--I learn more and more to hope against all hope when I experience suffering.
As I travel this week to the funeral of a childhood friend who died of complications from cancer, I think of his sweet wife and precious three young children he leaves behind. I pray that this whole family experiences the essential presence of Jesus, His peace, and "all that is necessary for the complete fulfillment" of their lives. They must hope against all hope to do so.
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