The fun news: not only will we be enjoying the various diversions of the county fair next week, but Auntie Jen will be arriving for a several-day visit.
I'm reading Knowing God in the mornings. The chapters are relatively short, which is great when I have a cat-nappy baby, but they certainly are not lacking in weighty, convicting thoughts. It's nice to read something weighty and convicting and well-written when there are so many fluffy books full of spiritual pat answers out there. Sometimes I just want to scream, "Let's be more grubby and real and less 'spiritual,' please!" Two paragraphs jumped out at me this morning which are much too long to re-type but are well worth the read. In summary, the first paragraph said that we can know a great deal about God but lack knowledge of Him, primarily through our devotion to theological pursuits and the resulting accolades we might receive from fellow believers. The second paragraph detailed how often we can know about godliness without having the knowledge of God thanks to the quantity of spiritual "helps" available. As Packer says, all of this is well and good, but what if I become so dependent on my theological knowledge or my "how-to-be-a-good-Christian" books that my knowledge of God through His word takes a back seat? What if my day-to-day Christian walk is based solely on knowledge about God that I've stored up from past ministry and Bible school experiences?
The question is not whether we are good at theology, or 'balanced' (horrible, self-conscious word!) in our approach to problems of Christian living; the question is, can we say, simply, honestly, not because we feel that as evangelicals we ought to, but because it is a plain matter of fact, that we have known God, and that because we have known God the unpleasantness we have had, or the pleasantness we have not had, through being Christians does not matter to us?This leads to another mental bunny trail that I went down last night. When I was in CEF or at Cornerstone, it seemed so easy and adventuresome to just pick up and go whenever and wherever God said to go. I'm supposed to go be a missionary in Ireland? Okedoke. I'll do whatever it takes. (Call me crazy, but there were seasons when martyrdom on the mission field [though probably not in Ireland] definitely had its appeal.) Now Steve and I are exploring a new type of ministry opportunity to do post-seminary that honestly has never crossed my mind. And the newness of it all honestly freaks me out. Perhaps it's because I am getting more and more settled into the married/family way with all of its daily practicalities and I feel like clinging to it. Anything "out there" feels too scary. Or maybe it's because God feels so small right now...because my knowledge of Him - and the energy, boldness, and contentment that results - is so limited. But His grace hasn't failed me yet.
All righty, I think I've had my daily allotment of navel-staring time. It's time to go take a walk or go jump on the sleeping husband or something.
Bunco is tonight and I'm taking Harriet along for the party. Whoop, whoop!