Waiting for morning

These are the reflections of one who lives in the hope of better things to come.

[ordinaryandsome]

Hail to the bus driver

Don't be deceived - this is not a picture of a school bus. See those crazy kids? Those are thoughts. Oh and that guy in the front, that's me. Actual me. Or you. Actual you.

This, my friends, is a picture of our minds.

Now, here's the great lesson I've learnt from my careful observation of bus drivers over the years: they are in control of where the bus goes. Obvious I know, but the implications are huge - The kids can be as noisy, rude, critical and know-it-all as they like, but they cannot change the direction of the bus. Unless of course, the driver listens to them.

Likewise, regardless of how loud and persuasive the thoughts in our heads are, they have no power to change what we do, unless we listen to them. But we don't have to.

Our thoughts feel very much like a part of us. And somewhere along the line, we decided that meant they are also inherently true.  But they're just not.

I think this is where 'taking every thought captive to Christ' begins to have meaning.  Next time a thought starts causing problems up the back of the bus, ask yourself: "How does this thought fit with what I know about Jesus?"

And then choose to believe, and keep driving in light of, the truth.

[ordinaryandsome]

Somewhere along the line, I seem to have decided that value is not inherent. It comes with achievement - I must excel if I am to be of worth. And as such, I am petrified of being exposed as the mediocre, extra-ordinary (as in 'very, very ordinary') human being that I am.

But here's the thing. Even if, in my own little world, I am the 'best', there will always be someone better. The world is a big place. If the significance of my ability is relative to the people around me, what real meaning does any value subsequently awarded to me actually have?

I'd like to embrace my mediocrity. I am a normal human being. I'm good at some things, I suck at others. And what I'm about so say is so corny that I feel like it should make me want to vomit. And you know what? It sort of does. But not really, because in amongst the vomit-inducing corn, there is truth: I will always be the best at being me. There is no one in the world who could do a better job. I can play the guitar, and I can write songs. But I can't tell you what key the song is in. I'm a pretty decent basketball player, but not quite decent enough to be the difference between winning and losing. I can answer any question about anatomy, heck I can even get my name on a dissection in an anatomy museum, but ask me what you've done to your knee and my guess is as good as yours.

It's a delicate balance. Of excellence and mediocrity. Success and failure.

I think I might hold auditions. If you can do a better job than I can, the gig's yours. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy being the best at being good old Mediocre Me.

[ordinaryandsome]

My name is Kathryn Gilchrist.

I like breathing fresh air, making music and being covered in mud. I like to wear shorts in winter because it makes me feel alive. I love the idea of drinking tea, but the actual practice makes me want to vomit. I like fairy lights and loungeroom dance parties, blankets, sock wrestling, and climbing on furniture when I feel insecure. That’s probably all you need to know.

Jokes.

I have been

Lovingly created by the God of the Universe, chosen and called according to his foreknowledge and purpose and

Crucified and raised, born again into new life, of imperishable seed, having been rescued, released, saved, washed, healed, forgiven, purchased, redeemed, justified, declared holy, righteous and blameless, altogether sanctified, reconciled, filled, qualified for inheritanceand seated in the heavenly realms…not because of anything that I have or haven’t done, but because of the precious blood of the Lamb.

Who could possibly be against me more than this God is for me?

I have peace with Godand a living hope.

I am a new creation, God’s masterpiece, a citizen of heaven, a child of God and co-heir with Christ. I am part of the royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession. His Spirit is in me.

My earthly body is but a temporary dwelling, my earthly worries but a morning mist, because

I will be raised to spend eternity with the LORD.

My name is Wretched Sinner, and I am saved.

[ordinaryandsome]

I've been doing alot of thinking about important things. And I hope that soon I can share some sort of cohesive, distilled version of those thoughts with you. But in the meantime, can I just recommend that you read the book of Colossians.

If you think you know who you are, think again.

[ordinaryandsome]

Oh hey there idiot. What the hell did you think you were doing?

[ordinaryandsome]

Addiction in one hand, penance in the other.

It's actually almost laughable how much I need a Saviour.

[ordinaryandsome]

Each one over the top of the other, jostling for position like a big and bigger brother. Pulling on your heart strings, digging out your roots Standing without beating so that no one ever knew An empty sort of heavy and a hollow that’s full Memorised morality, breaking all the rules Yesterday sinks like something in the sea While next time and the morrow refuse to set you free

They can blind the eyes with their big bad lies, scream silence at the top of their lungs. And the biggest baddest lie is in the middle of the night - that there won't be a rising of the sun. But we will run the night Leave our fears behind Because we don’t believe the lies We will run, we will run, we will run We will run, we will run, we will run

[ordinaryandsome]

I've got this unhelpful habit of berating myself at every opportunity.

I can't say I enjoy it, but somehow it feels right. Like I couldn't possibly be doing enough. Like it's not ok to just be content. Or I don't deserve to be satisfied.

I don't really know where all that is coming from, but I realised that it's an attitude that has penetrated even that which I thought impenetrable by thinking such as this: the Gospel of Grace. I have managed to twist those words of comfort and encouragement until they have become something I have to do.

I should fix my eyes.  Seek first. Set my heart on pilgrimage. Choose life.

I should be joyful, thankful, prayerful.

I should.  But I can't.

Even if I had the energy to try harder, those brownie points remain elusive. Know why? Because there are none.

So here's the thing. I'm not sure when, but somehow my Christian faith has become all about me. And regardless of when that started, it's gone on way too long.

I'm lifting my eyes to the hills, to the LORD who is unfailing in love, an ever present help in trouble, who carries and rescues and sustains, who is the definition of good and light and love and life.

And I'm not going to worry if my vision is a little blurry, if I blink, or fall asleep. Because I'm not saved by the fact that I can see Him, but that He sees me. Or rather, that He sees Jesus.

[ordinaryandsome]

I actually hate everything.

[ordinaryandsome]

The lies we believe

I have this desire to rebel against the whole culture of lies. To be free from them and live radically in knowledge of the truth. I want to be someone who lives securely in that knowledge, so that I can love myself as He does in the midst of a world that judges me on the basis of fabricated and temporary values.

But I can't be bothered.

[ordinaryandsome]

I'm covered in dirt. Bruised from the fall. I feel like there are so many reasons to stay here, beaten and broken. But there's one thought that I can't deny: nothing has changed. Well plenty has changed. Everything about my physical self feels different. But everything about my identity everything about my soul, everything about existence itself is exactly the same as it was before today happened.

Because Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.

[starteating-deactivated20131108]

[ordinaryandsome]

As much as I hate showers, I've got to admit that some of my best musical ideas have come to me as I've stood begrudgingly under that stream of water.

This morning, part of a melody for a song I'm working on just came to me. And all at once I could hear a whole band playing - swirling and peaking in behind those central notes, they themselves building as my mind added layer upon layer. But running late as I was, I soon found myself stuck in a car, replaying that tune over and over, trying desperately to hold onto it untiI I had the chance to store it away safely in a recording device.

I wonder if the same sort of thing happens with thoughts - the ones that just get stuck inside your head and you find yourself thinking them over and over and getting nowhere. I think in these situations, another person can act a bit like a recording device. Knowing that they know gives you permission not to think those things anymore. They're stored away safely - they won't be forgotten if you don't devote your attention to them. It's quite a relief really. And proof, I think, that God created us as relational beings, and ultimately to be in relationship with Him.

You know how it says in Philippians: "Do not be anxious about anything, but  in everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."? I think it's the same idea - share your thoughts, cares and concerns in prayer and it's pretty easy to rest peacefully knowing that the LORD, who is good and sovreign, is aware of your troubles. You don't have to keep worrying - he knows what you need.

Liberating stuff.

[ordinaryandsome]

There is a mysterious distinction between self and thought. If I can be aware (as indeed I am) of my thoughts, the implication then is that those thoughts are not necessarily a part of me. If they are not all-consuming, a part of me (the part, I'm inclined to think, that represents the real me) must then exist independently and is not subject to them.

I am not my thoughts.

 And just like that, their power is gone and I don't even have to struggle to let them go - I can simply let them be. And get on with living.  

[ordinaryandsome]

42

It's the big question right? What is the meaning of life? I hate that I'm asking that - it feels like a cliche - but it's such a legit question for an angsty twenty-something to be asking. I want to have a meaningful existence. I'm just not sure how.

When I think about a single day, I feel like it has been worthwhile if I a) experience something new, or b) do something for someone else. I know those things make me feel good and purposeful, and that it brings God glory to learn and enjoy and serve.

But I also recognise that an existence based on those principles is very much one that is about doing. Which poses the question: can one live meaningfully by just being? Do we have to be contributing to the world, always growing and experiencing? It all seems very secular, and, to be honest, tiresome.

Is it possible for someone who is desperately ill - bed bound even - to have a meaningful existence? Because if they can, that's got to be the essence of things right? Interestingly, probably the only thing this person can do is pray. To me, that seems extraordinarily meaningful - to spend your life in communion with the Creator.

Then of course there's the call to be disciple-making disciples, and to do God's work in restoring that which he created good and perfect in the first place.

Oh frustrated half-thoughts. What am I meant to do until I figure this out?

[ordinaryandsome]

Bold move, my friend.

There's this feeling I've got. Yesterday it just wouldn't sit happily. Today it bounces around with glee. In my head I just caught myself thinking that I feel "fantastic". When was the last time I used that word?!

I'm definitely still nervous -  sitting in a room almost directly underneath me, is a bunch of people that I will miss greatly. And they're listening to a heap of information that is no longer mine to understand. At least for a while anyway. I guess it stings a little to think about that. But right now, I feel liberated.

I was so scared of what she would think. That I was giving up, or giving in. But I needn't have worried. She filled me with hope - I get to choose what it means to live in a meaningful way. I've got time to grow and time to enjoy...but most of all, I've got time to just be. To be who I am. And if I'm not quite sure, I've got time to work it out.

Oh the joy.

Don't worry - I'm very much prepared to fall in a heap at any moment. All this is far too complex to be solved so easily. I'm ready for what is to come -  I just pray that God would use it for his purposes.   

[betype]

Everything

Get inspired on Betype.co