The Only Rock of My Salvation

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Fort Worth, Texas, United States
O Changeless God, Under the conviction of thy Spirit I learn that the more I do, the worse I am, the more I know, the less I know, the more holiness I have, the more sinful I am, the more I love, the more there is to love. O wretched man that I am! O Lord, I have a wild heart and cannot stand before thee; I am like a bird before a man. How little I love thy truth and ways! I neglect prayer, by thinking I have prayed enough and earnestly, by knowing thou hast saved my soul. Of all hypocrites, grant that I may not be an evangelical hypocrite, who sins more safely because grace abounds, who tells his lusts that Christ's blood cleanseth them, who reasons that God cannot cast him into hell, for he is saved, who loves evangelical preaching, churches, Christians, but lives unholily. My mind is a bucket without a bottom, with no spiritual understanding, no desire for the Lord's Day, every learning but never reaching the truth, always at the gospel-well but never holding water. Give me a broken hear that yet carries home the water of grace.- Paradoxes/Valley of Vision

Friday, September 26, 2008

Bumpy Roads

This road I'm traveling on is taking me on turns that make me sick, but it's beautiful scenery and the smell of the things on the way are almost always beautiful. (Notice the almost always.) These turns are quick and sharp, and definately unexpected.
The words that come out of our mouths are so often taken for granted, and tonight was a prime example of how it is so important to be above reproach. I felt silenced tonight, as if I couldn't speak. I knew it was important that I didn't.
The stars were so beautiful at Kate's house. We fellowshiped and played volleyball.

If things that I treasure closest to my heart are taken away, it will hurt less if I don't hold on as tight. But my question is: Am I letting go from the pain, or letting go because I must and because I know it's pleasing to Him. Count it all as rubbish.
It's nights like this that I could stay up and listen to acoustic guitar, and listen to "banana pancakes". I could play guitar until my fingers burned, and my voice is gone. It's not a running night. I am not angry. My body is weak and tired, but my soul rejoices in He who makes things beautiful for His namesake. I love the silence.

I read in 1 Timothy 6 and my thoughts have been consumed with unapproachable light. Such a beautiful thought. One that I couldn't understand.

Beautiful are the hearts of those who seek the Lord.
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