Showing posts with label Scripture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scripture. Show all posts
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Colossians 3:12-17
Happy seventh day!
The Holy Bible by Chr, Wordswo (Google Affiliate Ad)The Holy Bible by Chr, Wordswo (Google Affiliate Ad)
Friday, February 15, 2013
A Pleasing Aroma
Our language
teacher’s cousin had a baby yesterday, and
today we learned our househelper’s daughter is going to have a baby! Lots
of life coming around.
It’s odd to think of Sarah’s
daughter pregnant. She got married about three months ago, and she’s my age if
not younger. She’s moved away from her family, and most people in her situation
would feel saddened—but Katrina’s still one of the happiest people I know.
It kind of makes me feel silly when
I’m discontent. I have everything I want—well not everything I want, but
everything necessary to have a healthy attitude. But I don’t have one
oftentimes. I tend to complain about little things like my computer freezing up
and my cat’s wounded foot.
I’ve never heard Katrina complain
about anything. She always has this bright beautiful smile on her face; she’s
always friendly and loving. She could have found a lot of things to complain
about but she didn’t. She’s not even a believer.
Kind of puts me to shame when an
unbeliever is more Christlike than I am. My life is supposed to be an aroma to
God, but I don’t choose to live up to God’s ideals. Lord, make me more like
Katrina so that I can draw people to you!
“As a pleasing aroma
I will accept you, when I bring you out from the peoples and gather you out of
the countries where you have been scattered. And I will manifest my holiness
among you in the sight of the nations.”
Ezekiel
20:41
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
All is Vanity
Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the
unimportant things of life. It’s easy to spend an hour or less with God, then
go through your life and forget about him. But without Christ, we’re not getting anywhere.
“Back
to the rat race,” is what I think to myself every time I wake up on Monday
morning. That’s what it feels like: running around in circles and getting
nowhere. That’s why Ecclesiastes 1 is one of my favorite poems; it reminds me
that unless Christ is my foundation, I’m just the blowing wind.
Vanity of vanities,
says the Preacher
Vanity of
vanities! All is vanity.
What does man gain by all the toil at which he
toils under the sun?
A generation goes, and a generation comes,
But the
earth remains forever.
The sun
rises, and the sun goes down,
And hastens to the place
where it rises.
The wind
blows to the south and goes around to the north;
Around and
around goes the wind, and on its circuits the wind returns.
All streams
run to the sea, but the sea is not full;
To the place
where the streams flow, there they flow again.
All things are full of weariness; a man cannot
utter it;
The eye is
not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
What has
been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done,
And there is
nothing new under the sun.
Is there a
thing of which it is said, "See, this is new"?
It has been
already in the ages before us.
There is no
remembrance of former things,
Nor will
there be any remembrance of later things yet to be among those who come after.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
A Voice Said Cry
"What do you want to name your blog?" my Dad asked.
"Can't you just name it for me?" I didn't really expect him to, but from experience I knew that naming things was my weak point. My cat is named Cousy (French; pronounced Coosy), an aristocrat we studied last year in school. Mom says it's a girl's name, and she's probably right. My guitar's name is Merry--sort of just stuck, though I thought about naming it Therilian. I've done worse. In a story I wrote, I came up with an amazing character who's a nervous wreak, an extreme clean freak, and terrified of the outside world. I named him Danny. Nothing wrong with the name Danny of course, but for literary purposes I could have done better. Either that or I'll come up with great names and throw them away on unimportant objects. So, what should I name my blog?
As I thought about it some more that night, my conversation with my Dad reminded me of one of my favorite passages in Scripture, where Isaiah found himself in a similar dilemma.
A voice said, "Cry."
And I said, "What shall I cry?"
What was the answer to Isaiah's question?
All flesh is grass,
And all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades
When the breath of the Lord blows on it;
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God will stand forever.
What's the purpose of blogging, or writing, or public-speaking or preaching or painting or acting or any form of art? Twofold: one, to remind mankind that we're not as important as we think we are. In fact, compared to God we're just like flowers that live for a day and pass away when God calls us to. The other purpose of art is to remind us that God and His Word are eternal.
Every culture, American culture, South Asian culture, Kiwi culture, isn't going to last forever. But God will. And even the dying flower can remind us how great our God is.
"Can't you just name it for me?" I didn't really expect him to, but from experience I knew that naming things was my weak point. My cat is named Cousy (French; pronounced Coosy), an aristocrat we studied last year in school. Mom says it's a girl's name, and she's probably right. My guitar's name is Merry--sort of just stuck, though I thought about naming it Therilian. I've done worse. In a story I wrote, I came up with an amazing character who's a nervous wreak, an extreme clean freak, and terrified of the outside world. I named him Danny. Nothing wrong with the name Danny of course, but for literary purposes I could have done better. Either that or I'll come up with great names and throw them away on unimportant objects. So, what should I name my blog?
As I thought about it some more that night, my conversation with my Dad reminded me of one of my favorite passages in Scripture, where Isaiah found himself in a similar dilemma.
A voice said, "Cry."
And I said, "What shall I cry?"
What was the answer to Isaiah's question?
All flesh is grass,
And all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades
When the breath of the Lord blows on it;
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God will stand forever.
What's the purpose of blogging, or writing, or public-speaking or preaching or painting or acting or any form of art? Twofold: one, to remind mankind that we're not as important as we think we are. In fact, compared to God we're just like flowers that live for a day and pass away when God calls us to. The other purpose of art is to remind us that God and His Word are eternal.
Every culture, American culture, South Asian culture, Kiwi culture, isn't going to last forever. But God will. And even the dying flower can remind us how great our God is.
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