The Struggle To Grow Up

    Something is happening to me. 

    It's difficult to articulate what exactly that is, except that I know I'm changing on a very fundamental level. There's been a sensation of increasing uneasiness over the last four months, a growing tension that I've noted in both heart and mind, struggling to assert itself. At times, it feels like a silent, faraway whisper; at others, it is a shout in my mind, even as everything else around me seems silent and peaceful. But it is always there, a nagging frustration. In and effort to make sense of things, I thought I'd write a bit about it here - for the sake of finding clarity for myself and others who find themselves in the same perplexing state of affairs.

    I'm pretty sure the major shift began after the death of my friend Yeswanth that I wrote about in in "Death Came Calling....and Took My Friend", and the subsequent posts. It definitely began to accelerate after I started working at the end of January. I suppose it would be logical to attribute this to the experiences of my first job out of university, first paycheck, first car, first experience of serious buying power, etc. to contribute to the shift in attitude and perspective. But this would be scratching the surface of the proverbial iceberg at the best, and a myopic mis-diagnosis at the worst. The truth is that although much seems to be progressing well on life's various fronts (and there is no denying that I feel both blessed and most appreciative of what I have been given), I also find myself irritated at times.

    A major part of this has been due to my vexation at areas of immaturity that I find myself constantly struggling with trying to grow out of. It seems so hard to deal with them - no sooner have I felt that I've experienced growth and enforced discipline in one area of my life or personality that an other rears its ugly head. It's been so often that I've found myself feeling guilty at having wasted my time in frivolous and pointless pursuits that don't seem to be helping me grow and change faster; to become the kind of person who can take up the task that I feel called to, inspite of all that keeps tripping me up. And that brings me to one of the things about myself that so irritates me: 

I think in some respects, I've been too soft-hearted for far too long.

    I hate that, now that I've articulated it clearly - succumbing under self-consciousness to being a people-pleaser and 'yes' man. It feels as if sometimes I'm so easily moved and made to feel guilty, easily cornered and made to feel as if I need to justify and explain everything I do and say to everyone who comes along and demands an explanation - how did you...? when? where? what? with who? why? which? I hate the tension and fear of conflict that arises inside in those scenarios. And I dislike even more what I've sometimes done as a result - become passive, unwilling to open my mouth and articulate what I want; gone along with things that I don't really want to do; wasted time in frivolous and superficial pursuits as a result; chastised myself and wallowed in regret for my spinelessness at the end of it all.

I hate this. This has to stop. It can't go on any longer, or it'll cripple me.

    But if the irritation at my immaturity is one face of the coin, then the perplexing consternation that comes with the repercussions of change is the other. Because I am undoubtedly changing, and change has inevitable consequences, which make me wonder if I should feel apprehensive about the results. Things that once enamoured me before seem inconsequentially mundane now - I've found myself giving away a lot of "stuff" that once seemed so fascinating, and anticipate giving even more away as the change increasingly sets in. But that's not worrisome; I'm happier for it. It's the gradual distance that I find occuring between myself and people I know - a divergence of humour, interests, goals, priorities, thoughts, topics of conversation, and lots more. I'm surprised sometimes to find myself unmoved, uninterested, bored even, in the midst of events that send visible ripples of excitement through people around me. As I write this, I'm reflecting on the strange feeling over the last few days - as if I'm in a little kayak, partly floating, partly paddling away from the giant ocean liner that those around me are on, heading in the direction of an unexplainable call from somewhere deep in my heart.

What is this feeling? What is happening? I wonder if I should be inspired or worried about this.

    In any case, there is only One Person I know who has the answers I need. I'm reminded of two examples of His promises to those who have put their trust in Him:

    "'For I know the plans I have for you', declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart." (Jeremiah 29:11-13, ESV)

    "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. 

     What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:28-35,37-39, ESV)

Papa, I know that you can hear me. I need to change, I need to think, and I need answers. Help.

- The Wisdom Seeker

Willingdon Turns 50!

    In the process of thinking over things since my last post, I thought I'd write a little bit about Willingdon's 50th anniversary. To commemorate the event, Willingdon will be holding their Sunday service of June 12th at the Pacific Coliseum in Vancouver. I hope to be following and covering the events leading up to this over the next couple of weeks or so. Until then, I would like to start off with this announcement video for the Pacific Coliseum service, that was played at one of the Sunday services about three weeks ago:

    I'm really looking forward to this celebration of God's work in the city of Vancouver for the sake of His gospel over the past 50 years through Willingdon's legacy and impact. If you are reading this blog and would like to attend, or bring a friend, please do so! It's going to be a great service, and I'm looking forward to writing about it as things get ready over the next 20 days. See you there!

- The Wisdom Seeker

Precious Life, Precious Death

"Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His saints." (Ps. 116:15 , ESV)

    The few weeks since my last post have been eventful with a number of 'firsts' - I bought car insurance for my first car for the first time, drove it for the first time with my first full tank of gas, failed my first driving test in Canada, ordered flowers for one special woman for the first time and gave a rose to another (also the first time), had my laptop battery fail after two-and-a-half years of operation. But in the midst of all that, I have still been contemplating the train of thought that I began in 'One Life Blossoms, Another Departs'. I guess this is becoming a year where God is having me contemplate life, death, mortality, meaning and teaching me important lessons through all of it.

    Recollecting the above verse in the process of thinking, I went back to a sermon that I had listened to on the morning of the memorial service for Jamie's grandmother. Delivered at Willingdon in 2004 by John Neufeld, it was titled 'The Precious Event of A Believer's Death' and covered the death of Abraham's wife Sarah in Genesis 23, and his mourning for her. It was riveting right from the beginning, with these sentences among those of its opening paragraph:

"Whenever I do a marriage ceremony I always make sure the married couple understands the words 'until death do us part'. See, I want every married couple here to understand that if Jesus delays His coming, one of you will go on ahead of the other, and the other will be left behind. That is the way of this world...What should we do when a loved one dies?...Death is the great certainty of life."

    "Do you know, that the day of your death is a very precious day to God?" Pastor John's question stopped me in my tracks. I had never thought of it like that before. He continued: "The hour of your dying is precious to the Lord, because in that hour He will call you home for that which you have been created. The great inheritance for which God made you, is not on this earth, it's in glory, that great inheritance will be yours in the final day."

    At this point I have to stop and deal with the question that grows ever louder in my mind:

Why is it so important that the day of my passing matters to someone?

    Last year, during the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics, I had attended an art exhibition showcasing representative BC art at the Vancouver Art Gallery. A parallel exhibition occurring there at the same time used the human body as its subject. Among the displays were ones that used a complete skeleton, skulls of various sizes and x-ray images of the body's skeletal structure. I remember thinking about my own body as I looked at those exhibits, reflecting on how  one day it too would be placed in the ground, and reduced to what I saw in front of me.

    The thought that one's own family and friends will miss and think about us is sometimes of small consolation, for we are ever cognizant that they too will inevitably go down the same road we ourselves must take. As we contemplate mortality in such moments, there is an aching want that steals up upon the human heart, an insatiable plea that our life would be valued and the memory of our days would be known and preserved, in some manner that is not hamstrung by forgetfulness, inaccuracy, imprecision, confusion, corruption all the other failings of memory that plague the human cerebral cortex.

    We want someone to never forget us, in whose memory our image is indelibly and permanently etched. We long to be seen even after we have gone.

   

    In the light of this cry of the soul, I am reminded of the following unshakable promises of the Word of God, reflecting on the overarching presence of the self-existent, everlasting God who stands unfettered by age, and death and decay:

    "Nevertheless, I am continually with you;

      you hold my right hand.

    You guide me with your counsel,

      and afterward you will receive me to glory.

    Whom have I in heaven but you?

      And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.

    My flesh and my heart may fail,

      but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

- Psalm 73:23-26, ESV

   

    It is inexpressable comfort to know that this great God calls Himself my Father, my friend, my Saviour; that He walks with me on my short sojourn through this life, sighing with me through the times when it seems wearisome to put one foot in front of the other, laughing at the moments of joy and wonder; that He does it all knowing that He will be waiting with open arms to welcome me home at the end of the sprint through the valley called Death, and that He has planned not only every day of my life with Him here, but also of every day of the eternity that we will spend together. But most of all there is security in knowing that in the same manner He said of His people, the memory of all that I am, of all my being, my image and all my days are permanently etched into His hands, His being:

    "Can a woman forget her nursing child,

      that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?

    Even these may forget,

      yet I will not forget you.

    Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;

      your walls are continaully before me."

- Isaiah 49:15-17, ESV

    God remembers the day of my passing long after I have faded from this world, for it is the day He welcomes me home. My life, my essence, my being is preserved even on the other side of death because of the sheer force of His will and power. See you in the next post after I've done some processing on what I've just written. And if you have lost hope, please take some of mine.

- The Wisdom Seeker