July 3rd, 2004


The coal on my lips

When I come into the very presence of God, I do not realize that I am a sinner in an indefinite sense, but I suddenly realize and the focus of my attention is directed toward the concentration of sin in a particular area of my life. A person will easily say, "Oh yes, I know I am a sinner," but when he comes into the presence of God he cannot get away with such a broad and indefinite statement. Our conviction is focused on our specific sin, and we realize, as Isaiah did [Isaiah 6], what we really are. This is always the sign that a person is in the presence of God.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (3 July,"The Concentration of Personal Sin")

Though I don't want to be in the way of anyone enjoying our summer, I am thankful for the momentary patch of grey. The morning is quieter, less pressing, easier to slide into gently.

Lots of anger lately, which causes me to invoke my law of stimulus and response ("When the response is greater than the stimulus, there must be another stimulus"). I think God is dealing with me about my sin, about my continued and repeated choice to live in bondage when He has paid the price to set me free, not only eternally but especially today. He's speaking from multiple vectors but in a singular voice of truth. Running out of places to run and to hide, and having less energy or desire to do either.


It's good to see the pockets of chaos and mess disappear as I grow more settled in my new apartment. Yet I've been resisting the Spirit's work of sanctification in my life—the process of Jesus making His home in me. That's disruptive. More often than not, He knocks things down and throws things out, then builds and raises things up in a way so glorious that it leaves me fearful and trembling.

But it's better.
  • Current Music
    A Celtic Tale, "The Prophecy"

Quirk #87438

For whatever reason, I always put bagel halves in my toaster inward, facing each other.
  • Current Music
    Teada, "Ta an Coilleach ag Fogairt an La"