This post may look a little funny, but I wanted to start at the beginning of my thought, and go all the way through, even though it means blogging comments.
In Gods Purse I stated:
I am called to be peculiar. I am called to preach the gospel. I am not just called to change the world, but I am called to change the worlds eternity. Let's just hope I'm not too busy catching CSI to do it.
SLW from The Sound of Thunder then commented on the post:
"Let's just hope I'm not too busy catching CSI to do it."
That juxtaposition is such a great way to express the American Christian's "dilemma". We are so surrounded by easy, distracting choices, that we lose, at least momentarily, sight of what's really important to us. To simplify matters, we could live the cloistered lives of hermits, but then what impact could we have? How to live in the world but not be of it?
To which I responded:
slw, your question, "How to live in the world but not be of it? " brought an example to mind that made me grin. My initial thought was to remember that all these other things are just distractions. And I thought, "how do you do that though?" and the immediate example came to mind of a family sitting in the waiting room, waiting for their child, grandchild, niece/nephew to be born. You might be watching tv, reading the readers digest, but your heart is racing for something entirely different. You're anxious to be able to put away the distraction and receive the news you've been waiting for. Or inside that delivery room, you're anxious for the moment you can bring an ice chip or coach some breathing, anxious and hopeful that you can fluff a pillow and make even the smallest of contributions/impact on the excitement around you and your purpose for being there. Everything else, from the conversations about the weather, to the e-mails and phone calls you might make while you wait, they're all simply distractions.
This conversation brought to my mind the idea of bringing God out of the closet. Working towards what we're really working towards, and letting that be known. If you found yourself talking about cars with someone, you'd have no problem saying "Yeah, I saw a car like that when I was at Auto Zone picking up a new battery."
But I don't know that I'd have the same ease saying, "Yeah, I saw a car just like that when I was outside Auto Zone praying for a family that just drove up."
I don't know about everyone else, but I'm quiet about God. I assume you don't want me to continuously throw "religion" into a conversation, and forget that even if you feel it's religion I'm throwing into the conversation, it's really not. I feel it every time I find myself in a situation where I want to mention God in a conversation. It's not religion I'd be bringing up, it's a close and loving relationship with a Savior and Father. The problem is, I still don't do it.
For God to be everything to me, I just can't stifle mentioning Him. And for God to be with me, and His presence felt, all the time I just can't be willing to throw my jacket over my invisible friend and pretend He's not there. And, all too often, I'm willing to do just that.
Looking now at some of the choices I make, and I know I've seen this in myself before, I see that I don't want to appear as though I'm trying to appear spiritual, so I shy away from saying spiritual things. The only way I'm continually able to write about spiritual issues is to convince myself, daily, that no one comes regularly enough that it would appear I wrote just so they would see it. Where's the boldness there?
What would happen if I acted on the emotions of someone sitting in that waiting room? What would happen if I took my Friend Jesus out and constantly displayed Him for the world to see, as a new grandparent would take their grandchilds photo out?
Living, as though you're living for heaven, and only distracted by earth... those words, that idea/ideal ends with a sigh of longing that only God hears.
But how long have I been blogging about being hungry? desiring more of God? And yet here I am, still, held back by the only thing you'd think I'd have the ability to control: me.
I'm my own worst enemy. God can overcome the powers of Hell. But He won't override my free will.