Editing Our Lives

I cannot thank God enough for the summer He has given us; for each one of the wonderful friends that have blessed us with their visit -our home is still full and my heart overflows with gladness!- I am also grateful for the family that opened their home and hearts to some of us for a week. My heart is content, it has pleased the Lord to be gracious to us.

The conversations have been many around the table. We have talked about music, movies, arts. We have read many books and excerpts of books aloud. We have conversed about marriage, and men and women and their biblical roles. We have had long conversations trying to define important words such as masculinity and beauty. We have laughed and cried. We have hugged and sang together. We have shared meals and, coffee and tea. And in all these, I have been stretched and challenged in so many ways.

All these moments plus all the books I have been reading (especially those on writing) have made think of something that I want to consider carefully.

When an author writes a book she has to come, like it or not, to the point in which she has to turn her manuscript, her precious work, to someone to edit it -most of the times, that means to tear it apart.-  If she wants to become a very good writer, she won’t choose the kind of editor that is easy and merciful. She wants the one that tells the truth, even when it hurts.

Our life is made up of many short stories, all within a bigger story. And we are inside the story, many times entangled in the plot. We simply don’t understand complex characters that come into scene; we can’t figure out why Mr. D has the power to deceive many and hurt families. We can’t understand why Mrs. T said such a thing. We don’t even know at times how in the world we got to the place we are now. Other times we forget that our story is part of a bigger one. We are not the main characters. We are here to bring glory to God in all we do and say. We are not ours but His.

And when we are in the middle of the story, when we can not see clearly through all the many words, sentences, through all the lines that are happening around us. When we feel that there is no way out of that climax. When we don’t even know what is our role in the play and have forgotten all our lines and are speechless, it is time for us to bring our manuscript to the editors.

First we must come to the main editor who is God the Father. Laying our lives before Him in prayer, literally bowing down and crying out to him, we must open the pages of our lives there, at His feet. Hiding nothing, not a comma, not a word, not an event. Let us ask Him forgiveness for our sins, and light for our paths. Let us ask Him to give us eyes to see what we don’t necessarily want to see. Ears to hear what we have refused to hear. Hands to act. Hearts to love. Mouths that speak what edifies and always proclaim truth.

Secondly, we need to find another kind of editor: a friend, a pastor, a brother or sister. But let us be careful, our tendency will be to try to find one that thinks just exactly like we do; one that agrees with all we say. But we must beware. Let us remember that a flattering mouth works ruin and that the man who flatters us is really spreading a net for our feet (Prov. 29:5). We need someone who is not part of the same scene to help us see clearly, to give us advice, to ask us the hard questions and say the hard words. And we must be willing to believe that many times, we are messing things up.

God is the God of Grace who can turn the impossible into possible, the meaningless into something beautiful. He can turn our sorrow into gladness. He is the Light and no darkness can prevail against Him. As I read once, He is in the business of making new hearts. And I love to believe that.

Becky

Spinning in the Fog

Annie Pliego Photography

It is a foggy day, just the way days have been lately.  The sun-rays come and go through the clouds, but most of the time there is fog.

She puts on her pretty dress, the one that swirls beautifully when she spins around.

Over and over again, she dances.

She spins with wide open arms in the fog. 

She stops. 

All is moving inside of her, outside her, all is unstable. At least that is the way it seems to be. 

And I look from the window, standing where the sun rays appear and disappear behind the clouds, the fog. All is moving, all is swirling inside my head, my heart. Thoughts. This, that. The next. The book, the girl, the man.

The fog won’t rise.

The girl is spinning again.

What matters, what doesn’t? What fights should I fight and which ones are not for me? All is swirling. This, that. Poetry. Calvin. Luther. Chesterton. Analogies. Fog. Love. Unity. Division.

She stops. 

Her legs are firm in the ground.

Her arms still opened wide. 

I stop. I press my Bible to my chest. Hard. I feel a hard lump in my throat. Words are hidden in the fog.

A sun ray shines on her and she starts spinning again.

All these terms, these theological questions. This, that. The passion for one or the other. The songs we sing. The books we read. The words we write. The conversations we have. The lives we live in the open. In the secret.  They all matter. They do. Even when the fog won’t rise and all is moving inside us. It matters. It does matter. I am what I believe.

She spins.

It matters what I believe.

It determines how I will respond…

In the days of darkness.

In the days of joy.

In the days of trouble.

In the days of health.

In the days of sickness.

In the days of trials.

In the days of peace.

She still spinning.

All the days I will live

Under the sun,

Under the fog.

Today, tomorrow,

The time in between.

They all matter.

It does matter!

She stops. She grabs her dress as if by holding unto it she won’t fall. 

I am still holding my Bible. Tight. I do not want to fall.

The sun rays are now coming back through the glass, this time shining on me. All is moving inside of me and tears have found a way to escape through my eyes. I have tried to hold them back but they won’t stay in.

She is tired of spinning. Dizziness has overcome her.

I look at my Bible. The Word of God. It has never been moved. It will always remain. Firm. It never changes. Every word in it has been spoken by the Author of Life. The Alpha, The Omega, the Great I Am. I press it hard to my chest.

O how I love the Word that sustains my life in the midst of all the fog!

Oh how I love the Word of God!

He spoke and all was created.

He spoke and darkness was removed.

He spoke and the Devil did not overcome.

He spoke my name and I lived.

She is holding her dress and playing with it. 

She is content in the fog, and dizzy no more.

I try to smile, to remember what I have learned. How to be content. What I believe. Who am I. I know what it takes not to faint. It is not what I can defend with logic and arguments that sustains me when I am dizzy. No!

It is not that.

It is deeper than that.

It goes beyond that.

It is not what I believe in my head,

but in my heart that keeps me going,

and keeps me still.

It is His love burning in me.

How can I explain with logic and rhetoric, in English or Spanish, this, that, éso, aquéllo?  It is His love that captivates my heart, that sustains my life. It His light shinning through the fog, through tears, and the uncertainties of life that holds my life tight.

To be loved by the Great I Am.

To be known by name.

To be able to respond to that amazing love.

The Spirit  within me,

My cry: Abba Father!

The song He has put in my heart.

That He rejoices over me with singing.

All that undeserved grace.

All that has been forgiven.

How can you possible explain this, that?

And yet that is what sustains me.

That is what strengthens me when all seems to be spinning around.

I come out and hold her hands.

We smile and spin together.


And then we stop.


All is moving inside of us, outside of us, all is unstable. 

At least that is the way it seems to be.

 

Becky

From My Reading Corner: Saving Leonardo

One of the several reasons this blog has not being updated on a daily basis, is that I had so many good books to read, books that were not only in a wish list, but were already sitting on my shelves waiting to be read. Every time I passed by I could feel them staring at me with that reproach look that only a mad book knows how to give. I could not stand the thought,  “What if all those letters decide to come out from the pages and hunt me one night…” Too risky. So I decided to follow one of Wilson’s advice and try start reading about two books a week. So far, so good. And I am very happy. No more books staring at me anymore. I now walk pass by the shelves, and give those books that look and can almost see them smiling at me.

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Monergism Books

This weekend I finished reading an amazing book, Saving Leonardo: A Call to Resist the Secular Assault on Mind, Morals, & Meanings by Nancy Pearcey. This is a book that if it were a concert, I would have raised to my feet at the end of it to give an ovation to the author. I totally recommend it for every Christian who loves arts but also for those who doesn’t understand the arts. It is a book for thinkers who love the Word of God and live, like the rest of us, in a fallen world where world-views must be discerned. Yes, in short, this is a book for all Christians.

Today I just want to share one quote that I absolutely loved:

“For God’s truth is indeed beautiful -a drama so exciting and intense that we can hardly bear to consider it directly, just as we cannot look at the sun directly. Dorothy Sayers once said, ‘The dogma is the drama.’ That is, biblical doctrine is itself the gripping plot line of universal history. ‘We are constantly assured that the churches are empty because preachers insist too much upon doctrine -‘dull dogma,’ as people call it. The fact is precise the opposite. It is the neglect of dogma that makes for dullness. The Christian faith is the most exciting drama that ever staggered the imagination of man.’ No other religion teaches that the highest divinity, the one who created the universe, entered the human condition, shared its sufferings, and was condemned by his own creatures. ‘The man should play the tyrant over man is the usual dreary record of human futility; but  that man should play the tyrant over God… is an astonishing drama indeed.’ Sayers writes. ‘Any journalist, hearing of it for the first time, would recognize it as news; those who did hear it for the first time actually called it news, and good news at that.’

Even more astonishingly, we ourselves have the opportunity to participate in that drama through our own lives. The Bible’s doctrines are inseparably rooted in the history of ordinary human beings… The implication is that every one of us, though we too are ordinary people, can lead lives imbued with the same world-revolutionary significance as we participate in the unfolding of God’s redemptive plan.

The Church’s artists and writers are those specifically gifted to convey the drama and excitement of the gospel. They should not be tamed or exploited, but nurtured and supported in their vital mission. Through their ministry, they help everyone recognize the beauty and cosmic purpose of their own lives.”

Isn’t this exciting to read?

Isn’t it exciting to know that we are part of God’s story?

Becky

A Wrinkle in Time – A Few Thoughts-

My 8 yo daughter and I finished yesterday, A Wrinkle in Time, the first book in a series by Madeleine L’Engle. As I mentioned in Goodreads, Sci-Fi is definitely not my favorite genre -and this story has its good share of it- because I find it hard to get immersed in the story, to get lost with the characters, to believe I am in it. However, this was the first time my daughter read this genre and was immediately caught up by the story. As I read aloud to her I could see her full of excitement as if she were traveling through time, from planet to planet along with the characters. She was not looking from afar but felt as if she were part of the story. At the end I can say that we had a great time reading it, and we were able to find many important places to just stop and talk about the truths this story contains, the lessons we must learn and the pitfalls we must try to avoid in life.

Madeleine L’Engle said once, “You have to write the book that wants to be written, and if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.” I guess she is right. I wish I were more childlike at times.

If you are not familiar with the story, here is an excerpt from the book description:

“Everyone in town thinks Meg is volatile and dull-witted and that her younger brother Charles Wallace is dumb. People are also saying that their father has run off and left their brilliant scientist mother. Spurred on by these rumors, Meg and Charles Wallace, along with their new friend Calvin, embark on a perilous quest through space to find their father. In doing so they must travel behind the shadow of an evil power that is darkening the cosmos, one planet at a time…  A classic since 1962, Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time is sophisticated in concept yet warm in tone, with mystery and love coursing through its pages. Meg’s shattering yet ultimately freeing discovery that her father is not omnipotent provides a satisfying coming-of-age element. Readers will feel a sense of power as they travel with these three children, challenging concepts of time, space, and the power of good over evil. (Ages 9 to 12)”

Now if you have read the story you can keep on reading (there are some spoilers ahead).

As I was reading I found a resemblance between the planet Camazotz, (a planet in which you may recall all was peace, equality and order, but in which individuality was lost and everyone’s will was subject to IT,  a greater power that controlled all the inhabitants of the planet), and the world in which we live today. Many today have stopped thinking and have bowed down to the god of Tolerance in order to achieve some kind of peace, equality and order.  IT had control over people in Camazotz,  just as Tolerance has taken control over the thinking faculties of people in our day. “Tolerance” has become, in a sense, the IT in our planet. Tolerance is the god many are serving blindly.

The saddest thing is that this god Tolerance has found a niche in the heart of many Christians. They cannot see, they are frozen, they think just as Charles Wallace reasoned, that they can come inside IT and be part of it and not be absorbed into it. We cannot compromise; if we tolerate sin we will soon be absorbed by it. We have not been called to seek “peace, equality and order,” but to seek the Kingdom of God and His Righteousness. We, as children of God, have been called to hold fast to the Word of God, to fight the good fight. We must resist. Mr. Murry and Meg won over IT because they fought it thinking differently. As Christians, we know we don’t win the spiritual battles with our minds, but in a sense we do. What we think is what we believe. And we know that what we believe is what we act. Just look at how many times Paul in his epistles calls us to have the mind of Christ, to think, to reason. He urges us not be conformed in our minds to this world, but to be transformed in our thinking. Christians must start thinking accordingly to the Word of God at all times, in all circumstances. If we don’t, we will soon be absorbed into the world. There must be a clear, distinctive difference in how we see things and how the world sees them. We have the Bible as our standard, they don’t.

At the end, in L’Engle’s story, love wins. But it doesn’t win the heart and mind of all that have been enslaved in Camazotz. I liked that. Love wins the heart of the one special person that, from the beginning we knew had to be rescued. Love always finds its way through the deepest darkness into the hardened hearts of men.

Now I must to go, my little one wants to start reading the second book in the series, A Wind in the Door, so here we go.

Happy reading, my friends!

Becky

 

Love is Easy Until it Demands Something from Us

It may seem absurd to say that love demands something from us;  but this morning as I was reading 1Corinthians 13: 4-7(ESV)  I could not think otherwise.

Please read these verses with all attention as if you had never read them before:

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

 

Love is easy until…
It demands from me patience,
Until it demands from a me kind attitude,
Every day, every time, over and over again.
Love is easy until…
It calls me not to envy,
Or boast.
Love is easy until…
It demands from me humility,
And not arrogance.
It is easy until it doesn’t call me
To ask for forgiveness,
And set aside all rudeness.
Love is easy until…
It demands that I should die,
That I should not insist on my own way of doing things.
It is easy until it calls me to leave aside
my own “rights” for the sake of the ones I love.
Love is easy until…
It demands self control from me,
Until it calls me not to be irritable,
Until it calls me not to be resentful.
Love is easy until…
It demands that I should not rejoice at any wrongdoing,
It is easy until it calls me to love truth,
Even though this would mean admitting
That I am wrong.
Love is easy until…
It demands from me to bear all things,
yes, all things,
every one of them.
Love is easy until…
It demands from me to believe all things,
To Hope all things,
To Endure all things.
This is the only kind of love that never ends.

Becky

On Prayer and Fasting and Depending on God

There are times when we must purposely fast, when we know we need to bring our bodies to submission to the spiritual things. But there are other seasons when fasting is the only natural way to come before God. Our bodies refuse to eat, and we have a greater need to pray, to fast, to come to the Word.

Being hungry for Him, and not hungry for food is a gift; a reminder that we are not of this world, that our flesh and all its desires will one day pass away. The heaviness of the soul is a reminder of how much we need His grace. All sufficient grace. Grace that satisfies our deepest needs, our longings. Grace that points our sin and grants us a repentant heart. Grace that lights up our way, that helps us think clearly.

In those days in which our bodies don’t crave for physical food, in which they refuse a morsel of sweetness, those days are days for fasting; for entering the prayer closet and open our hearts before God.

Let us welcome the days in which our only desire is to be with Him, and cry. Let us welcome the nights in which we cannot sleep and can only pray. Let us welcome the seasons in which we are reminded by the Spirit of God on how much we need Him. On how desperately we need His all sufficient grace.

Seasons of prayer and fasting are here to remind us on how much we must depend on Him, and not on the physical world that promises to satisfy our soul but always leaves us with a greater and deeper longing.

This year I have prayerfully purposed to live each day with a watchful heart; and how can I watch with all diligence if I don’t pray and fast? I welcome this season. I long for more of Him.

Under His grace, always clinging to Him…

Becky

My prayer today, I Lift Up My Hands