Maximillian Amadeus Banzai (banzai) wrote,
Maximillian Amadeus Banzai

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Crisis of the everyday

We presume that we would be ready for battle if confronted with a great crisis, but it is not the crisis that builds something within us—it simply reveals what we are made of already. Do you find yourself saying, "If God calls me to battle, of course I will rise to the occasion"? Yet you won’t rise to the occasion unless you have done so on God’s training ground. If you are not doing the task that is closest to you now, which God has engineered into your life, when the crisis comes, instead of being fit for battle, you will be revealed as being unfit. Crises always reveal a person’s true character.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (10 September, "Missionary Weapons")

There's a fire in my fireplace, which will probably make my apartment entirely too warm in short order, but is just perfect in this moment.

Been in a weird, discontented, rebellious place for a little while; uncomfortable to the point of looking for ways to lash out just for some kind of relief. Not a great state of affairs, I'm sure. Do I feel like God should be making things easier for me, better for me? Though I know it's ludicrous, yes I do.

Glad that we still reflect on 11 September. Each year I've looked back to my journal the day after the attacks as a reminder. There is much to remember:
07:02, 12 September 2001

Took a table at the back of the coffeehouse this morning. Being around people is an even bigger risk today— I can hardly bear hearing people laughing or making idle chit-chat, even though I know full well that for most, it's just their way to try to deal with it all. I think it's time to be still, or wrestle honestly. I know many people are simply tired of facing it all, but don't do the dead and suffering the dishonor of pretending it didn't happen.

Today may be harder than yesterday. Like many people, I didn't start yesterday with the burden on my heart. Today is different. So far, no friends or relatives unaccounted for or worried about. It's not that, praise God. It's simply the damned weight of it all.

I think I'll resent the return to normalcy, even though it might seem to be what is needed and best. After something like this, I wonder if we're called back to our old lives. Could we instead be called into better ones, trading our amusements and annoyances for true joy and real sorrow?

Let us be honest, for a change, with ourselves and with others. Let us deal with our brokenness, our powerlessness, our need, and stop pretending. Let us grasp tightly to faith, or mourn its absence; let us be comforted, sharing the hope we have, and seek the hope we still need. Let us stop withholding love and stop running from the God who loves us, never letting the fact that we don't understand keep us from His waiting arms.

Time is too short, life too precious, for us to fail to come into this new life today. I pray that we would each see the Way.

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