Sunday, March 25, 2007

forgetting what lies behind

a devotion from: Forward day by Day

For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and count
them as refuse.but one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind. I
press on toward the goal.the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
(Philippians 3:8)

How could Paul "forget" his previous life, his old friends, his
past pleasures? After his blinding conversion, he was at first
sure that he could reach other Pharisees like himself, sure that
these old companions would see the light of Christ and join him on
his new journey. Staying faithful to their own sense of calling,
however, they rejected Paul. How hard it must have been for Paul
to fail-and yet he doesn't allow himself to wallow in pity or to
exert energy in anger; instead he trusts God to care for them and
turns his face to the future, to the "upward call of God."

My desks both at home and at school groan under the weight of old
papers and books. My shoulders often ache from carrying old griefs
and guilt. My heart is heavy with unresolved sorrows. All this is
what Paul would have me lay down, forget, "count as refuse," in
order to respond with grace and agility to that upward call.

"Forgetting" this part of my past would free me to turn to our
Lord, with gladness and singleness of heart.

Saturday, March 24, 2007

to whom can we go?

this is from the devotion: Forward Day by Day

Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. (John
6:68)

God loves us so much-trusts us so much-that sometimes some of us
long to escape the responsibility that comes with acknowledging
God's love. The psalmist, who tried, recognizes the impossibility:
"If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost
parts of the sea," God is already there waiting. We cannot
escape.

We all have our own ways of trying: chronic busyness, television,
alcohol, food, sleep, sex, computer games, the internet. My
grandmother once wrote, "Books to me are like strong drink to a
drunkard," and I've inherited her tendency to escape work or
family responsibilities-even God-by losing myself in a book.

"Leave me alone," we sometimes want to say to God, but it chills
me to read those words because I really don't want to be alone. In
its deepest place, my heart knows its dependence on God and on
other people in my family and community.

It's not just his disciples that Jesus asks, "Do you also wish to
go away?" He asks us, too. And however much I sometimes want to
bow out, escape, renege on my responsibilities, I know that
Peter's answer must also be mine: "Lord, to whom can we go? You
have the words of eternal life."