Author: profshep

outlook

For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.  Romans 8:24-25 

Hope – it feels like a figment of my imagination. But that is what it is since hope that is seen is no hope at all. An alternate reality sparked by belief in a promise, the communication of a prediction ushering in expectation. An anticipated outcome fueled by rationale based not on observation but visions burning in my heart. An assured future igniting a reason to be, a purpose to move in time from left towards right – the place where truth will be known. 

Which really makes me wonder about the morality of this action – to hope in hope. What sort of ethics should be applied to the promise or its maker that initiated the dream? But in the end, the onus of any thought – from greatest to the least – lies solely on the thinker. The one who interprets and constructs their understanding of this idea – the hope hoped for. And the work of redefining, revising, and refining the words used to share hope with others is the patience giving purpose while we wait.

fairytales

For we live by faith, not by sight.  2 Corinthians 5:7

There is no such thing as a fairytale until you experience one first hand. While some may not see magic in a parade of boats freely floating in formation, or the conversion of water into a sheet of silvered glass, or the sudden appearance of colored dots saturating the surface of the bay, I believe in the supernatural.

But when this fantasy is overtaken by an opaque grayish white, and you feel trapped in the middle of a claustrophobic haze, do not be alarmed. Every story is filled with transitions that are inherently foggy. The unknown of the next moment is unsettling with no visibility beyond the blurred horizon.

We should not fear, however, because it only takes the turn of a page for the clouds to retreat. After all, it was the dream of a happy ending that began our adventure once upon a time. And when we see “happily ever after” come into full view, we know there is nothing more appropriate to do, then look up to the sky and say a heartfelt “thank you!” 

curing

I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” Lamentations 3:24

Waiting is a verb – the action of inaction. It is a time to ponder, contemplate, reflect. A curing process that both heals and cements. While I truly desire God’s timescale – living out each moment at the pace of his timestep seems longer than my heart can endure. And as the days turn into weeks that roll into months and revolve into years, I can only believe that capturing the fine detail of this trajectory is preferable to a coarse-grained path.

There is comfort in seeing the big picture, learning general principles, discovering fundamental quantities, but there is a richness found between the lines. A complexity revealed as you experience a thousand shades of grey in each unknown moment that passes. A beauty uncovered as you fixate on each element necessary to create the texture, patterns and form expressing movement in stillness. An understanding known only after you begin to count each passing second that will precisely sum up the end.

baffling

Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! “Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?” Romans 11:33-34

My life is an Old Testament story – you know one where God manifests in a way that doesn’t make sense. One you would never want someone to pattern their life after. One you have no idea what you’re suppose to do with what you just read. There is an innate tendency to reject what appears foreign, antiquated, anomalous. Despite my thoughtful reasoning regarding the necessity of dichotomies, my heart remains speechless when asked why God allows so much evil. Regardless how literal you wish to read the commands spelled out in black and white, not one was written in English, by an American, during the past 1900 years.

So we are left in an uncomfortable place when all we have are the details of our lives and the ever evolving nature of our beliefs. Some take a more conservative route and their boundaries narrow as they navigate right and wrong. Some find a more liberal path leading to wide open spaces as they traverse good and evil. I still want to trust in a God who works for good regardless – in some cases it may require extenuating circumstances, possibly even breaking a rule. But aren’t His judgments unsearchable, His mind unknowable, His ways unfathomable, beyond all we expect or imagine? Whenever I hear someone say “God would never…” I can’t help but think “never say never.”

thirsty

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” John 4:13-14

I never knew water had so many moods. Currently it appears to be feeling a bit schizophrenic – grey near the shore, blue on the horizon, murky in the transition between. Of course, water simply reflects the dance of the sun with the clouds. Perhaps it has some distinctive features of its own to offer in the timescale of its ripples? But then again, each oscillation is dictated by the current, moon and wind.

Even in a sea, the molecules don’t have much choice for themselves – which is how I always feel in the wake of my emotions. They ebb and flow, intensify, diminish. When they combine constructively like love and joy, or peace and patience, it’s like cresting a mountain peak where the limitless view prevents any sudden appearance of the unexpected. On the other side, however, is a deep trough of anger and shame, or fear and disappointment where it’s easy to get stuck at the bottom. It’s like losing a compass in the middle of a storm and thus all direction, reason, and hope.

Even in the stillness of a flat metastable state, water is only a mirror reflecting its surroundings. It has no face of its own, it cannot rise above the surface, or go against the tide. And yet, I have not recovered from observing the dynamic flashing of its brilliance, when water sparkled like a diamond. What has more value, is more beautiful, could be more symbolic of connection, belonging, and oneness than the hydrogen bonding between two species? It is unique. It cannot be replicated. It does not conform to any known theory or description. But more miraculous than water in its physical form, is the claim it could be even more. When you no longer need to seek satisfaction in a liquid, but find a spring to quench your thirsty soul.