Thank you for your patience, and for coming back to read this week's.
Sometimes we just need reminders. Things to jog our memory.
“Are we going the right way?”
“I don't remember seeing that before.”
“I didn't think I'd ever feel this way.”
Some days, God seems so distant. So silent. Some days religion and spirituality seem silly. A childhood thought. Yesterday's prayers seem trite. Last year’s miracles become rationalized.
So we watch out of signs, old promises. Keeping our eyes open for tomorrows joy.
A smile that reminds you that you are loved.
A child playing reminding you of innocence.
A kiss that reminds you why you are alive.
The stars and their promises. They are tales of beginnings, of infinity, of life.
C. S. Lewis told a powerful story at the end of his book Surprised by Joy. He asked if we, as Christians, should always find joy in salvation. Should we? Even in the monotonous days? Even in the days where our conversion happened so long ago, a distant memory?
He explained, if we were lost in the woods with no map, no direction, we'd have no hope. If we kept searching and we might eventually find a blaze, a marker for the trail, pointing us back to safety. With joy, we celebrate, high five, and continue.
Later on the same trail, we see the same colored blaze. Do we rejoice? Yes, but not as much. We know we are found. We keep moving.
We see another. And another.
Each is a reminder that we have been found, but after each, thinking we would be more joyful, we aren't.
He suggests that we should not be thankful for the marker, we should be thankful for the man who painted the mark on the tree. The man who pointed us to safety.
We should not celebrate in our salvation, we should celebrate the Savior.
The promises point not to our redemption, but our Redeemer.
Is your life monotonous?
Maybe you are too focused on the promises.
Some are guilty for celebrating the Bible, celebrating prayer, celebrating worship, rather than God himself.
Celebrate not that you are found, but Who found you.
Remember the stars, not for their promises, but for the one Who promised.