Sometimes we just need to be recharged. We lose energy. It's all been drained. Used up. Our "battery life" quickly falls from "green" to "red" in a matter of moments. The energizer bunny is no longer beating his drum.
If the heart is beating, there is life within. Nevertheless, we can reach the point of having no interest. No passion. Apathy and indifference set up camp in the deepest parts of our souls. Or maybe it's just a feeling of defeat.
At times, the heart even seemingly stops beating altogether. We quickly forget what it is for which (or for Whom) we're living... Or forget that we are even alive at all.
There is something about hearing another's heartbeat that is inspiring. We can so easily forget this distinct and irreplaceable "sound of life." But when we hear it, something begins to awaken within us. There is no other sound like it. We so often struggle with the issue of purpose... But why is it that we have an unmistakable feeling of desire and urgency to help those who cannot help themselves? It doesn't take much for a fire to be set aflame within our spirits. We are driven towards justice and compassion. There it is... look closely, that is called...
Purpose.
That strong, deep passion to reach out and get beyond ourselves.
Maybe that's our problem. Our focus on our "quest for purpose" keeps our eyes fixed greatly on "me, myself, and I"... when really, our purpose is waiting in the eyes of those who are burdened and hurting.
Our heartbeats awaken one another.
To newfound purpose. To forgotten dreams. To a place of openness. Trust. Brokenness. Transparency.
And... Dependence.
But this is a unique form of dependence. This dependence bears its roots in broken soil. You see, soil must be broken, or stirred up, in order for life to be planted... or replanted.
As the Body of Christ, we are called to be "one in spirit" (Philippians 1:26-28, ESV). I have always understood that concept... Yet, I had not had the opportunity, until recently, to truly experience the miracle of unity of spirit, heart, and purpose. There is a reason, a vital reason, why Jesus stated that unity was and is essential. He knew that there would be times when our heartbeats would slow... and even become so soft, that we would no longer be able to hear the precious sound... at least, on our own.
That's where the unity comes in.
Because although we sometimes forget the sound of our own heartbeats, they are not silent.
They simply just need someone--anyone--to take the time to hear them. To listen intently for any sign of life.
Because it's there.
God is never early and never late. He knows full well when our hearts will be ready for awakening and who it is that He can and will use to "jump start" our flat-lining spirits. Sometimes, we just aren't quite ready to "wake up." Our hearts become comfortable. Stuck in the comfort zones of apathy and complacency... Surrounded by the walls of distance and self-protection. We tell ourselves that we will never be in a position to hurt... or to feel ever again. But what we don't realize is this...
Unless one truly feels, he cannot truly live. And he definitely cannot live to his fullest potential... as God intended for him to live (John 10:10, ESV).
Abundantly alive.
And so eventually, our hearts begin to beat as one. If that isn't a display of unity through the power of the Holy Spirit, I'm not sure what is.
When our hearts beat together, it's a beautiful sound.
So answer me this:
Are you truly and sincerely...
Alive?
♥ ♫
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
flat land.
What is it about flat land? Why is it that "flat" journeys are attractive to the human heart? Is it the ease? The lack of stress? The fact that no "muscle" is needed? Anyone can walk a smoothly paved road.
But what if we weren't created to walk flat terrain? There is something about the human heart that yearns for adventure... wonders if there is something more. More than simply picking ones feet up... over and over again.
You see, we often think we accomplish more or travel further as a result of the effortless landscape. But we instead, become numb... Complacent. We get "lulled to sleep" by the repeated motion of our simplistic steps.
Have you ever stopped to think that the heart longs for a struggle of sorts? A challenge? I firmly believe that is true. But our hearts are innately infused with a desire to excel. To succeed. To reach our utmost potential. And because of our brokenness, we think we need to settle to reach that success, whatever that success might be. But settling never got anyone to the top of Mount Everest.
The view after climbing a mountain is irreplaceable. Trust me. This past March, I experienced the biggest workout of my life as I climbed to Romero Pools in Tucson, Arizona. The views, however, were worth it all. Don't get me wrong, there were definitely times I wanted to turn back. After all, this Indiana girl is not accustomed to the drastic incline of the Southwest. But every time I had the desire to return to the flat, desert land, I would simply stop and take time to view the horizon. You can't see a view like that without some sort of struggle or effort (unless you own your own private plane). But that's besides the point.
With that said, mountains cannot exist without the presence of valleys. It's impossible. At some point, you have to come down. Experience the "lows" of life. For those who know me even slightly, you know I am not a fan of emotional roller coasters. But life is not a "walk in the park"... nor is it a stroll down the lane. We are hit with reality... with moments when we discover our view is no longer thrilling... but rather, mundane and lacking luster.
But obviously, we must, and will encounter both. The highest peaks and the deepest valleys alike. Lessons learned in the valleys are not the same as those learned on the mountain top. Nor are they purposed to be. The uneven terrain is a paradox. The unevenness is necessary to keep us "grounded." It keeps us looking ahead, and behind, with the proper perspective.
When arriving in the valley, one can look behind and see the peak from which he came... while also knowing that he can face the peak that lies ahead. I think we have to face a peak, before we can begin to understand the strength of Christ in our weak, and sometimes lazy, legs. To awaken the knowledge that is is He that is ordering each and every step. That even the most mundane steps... as well as the most trying treads, can be overflowing with purpose.
I've climbed some mountains the past few years... both literally and figuratively speaking. I've journeyed through some valleys as well. And if I'm speaking honestly, I've been worn out countless times. My legs have felt like jello. But that "jello feeling" only lasts for so long.
We were created to adapt. To thrive.
Although the journey is often trying and tragic, the heart has an opportunity to soak in some crazy views... from both high and low standings.
My memory has been flooded with some incredible scenery. The journey was not and is not always pleasant. But at least I'm not walking comatose through this life. Because when you consider the views to be seen, that would just be a shame.
All I know is this...
I was not created for flat land.
But what if we weren't created to walk flat terrain? There is something about the human heart that yearns for adventure... wonders if there is something more. More than simply picking ones feet up... over and over again.
You see, we often think we accomplish more or travel further as a result of the effortless landscape. But we instead, become numb... Complacent. We get "lulled to sleep" by the repeated motion of our simplistic steps.
Have you ever stopped to think that the heart longs for a struggle of sorts? A challenge? I firmly believe that is true. But our hearts are innately infused with a desire to excel. To succeed. To reach our utmost potential. And because of our brokenness, we think we need to settle to reach that success, whatever that success might be. But settling never got anyone to the top of Mount Everest.
The view after climbing a mountain is irreplaceable. Trust me. This past March, I experienced the biggest workout of my life as I climbed to Romero Pools in Tucson, Arizona. The views, however, were worth it all. Don't get me wrong, there were definitely times I wanted to turn back. After all, this Indiana girl is not accustomed to the drastic incline of the Southwest. But every time I had the desire to return to the flat, desert land, I would simply stop and take time to view the horizon. You can't see a view like that without some sort of struggle or effort (unless you own your own private plane). But that's besides the point.
With that said, mountains cannot exist without the presence of valleys. It's impossible. At some point, you have to come down. Experience the "lows" of life. For those who know me even slightly, you know I am not a fan of emotional roller coasters. But life is not a "walk in the park"... nor is it a stroll down the lane. We are hit with reality... with moments when we discover our view is no longer thrilling... but rather, mundane and lacking luster.
But obviously, we must, and will encounter both. The highest peaks and the deepest valleys alike. Lessons learned in the valleys are not the same as those learned on the mountain top. Nor are they purposed to be. The uneven terrain is a paradox. The unevenness is necessary to keep us "grounded." It keeps us looking ahead, and behind, with the proper perspective.
When arriving in the valley, one can look behind and see the peak from which he came... while also knowing that he can face the peak that lies ahead. I think we have to face a peak, before we can begin to understand the strength of Christ in our weak, and sometimes lazy, legs. To awaken the knowledge that is is He that is ordering each and every step. That even the most mundane steps... as well as the most trying treads, can be overflowing with purpose.
I've climbed some mountains the past few years... both literally and figuratively speaking. I've journeyed through some valleys as well. And if I'm speaking honestly, I've been worn out countless times. My legs have felt like jello. But that "jello feeling" only lasts for so long.
We were created to adapt. To thrive.
Although the journey is often trying and tragic, the heart has an opportunity to soak in some crazy views... from both high and low standings.
My memory has been flooded with some incredible scenery. The journey was not and is not always pleasant. But at least I'm not walking comatose through this life. Because when you consider the views to be seen, that would just be a shame.
All I know is this...
I was not created for flat land.
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