I am not a writer. (Ok, I write. Obviously. But I’m not a write-er. So don’t go expecting any bigfancy words, or correct grammar, or proper use of confusing punctuation marks like : , – , or ; because I HAVE NO IDEA.) I wasn’t an English major. I’ve never journaled for more than 3 days at a time because frankly, that’s about how long it takes me to bore myself. I swore I would never become a blogger even as I watched my friends helplessly tumble one by one into the blogosphere. It’s not that I have anything against these practices, I’ve just never really “gotten” them and thus never really “gotten into” them. I mean, I love my friends (even the ones who blog – ha). I have some freakishly hilarious friends. Like my friend Rachel. She is so funny that I snort the ENTIRE time I talk to her EVERY time I talk to her. I can barely stand it. She’s my personal ab-workout. But I’d much rather call Rachel and hear her talk about her crazy kids than read her blog (which she doesn’t really have, by the way, this is just an example) about it. You get what I mean? That said, being the GIGANTIC hypocrite that I am, I have actually been frequenting some blogs lately. And ok, alright already, I give. I guess I’m starting to get it. A little. But still…
The reason behind the bland taste in my mouth in regards to contributing with my written word is this: with all the words being thrown around out there, all the ideas being espoused and the experiences being shared, there is absolutely no way I have anything new to add. I mean, really. There is nothing new. This is so true it’s biblical. Solomon, being the ray of sunshine that he was, wrote, What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun Ecclesiastes 1:9. So when I say that don’t have anything new to add I don’t say that in a self-deprecating sort of way, because it’s not that our lives are particularly boring or un-noteworthy. (For goodness’ sake, we’re trying to raise 3 boys 6 and under. There is chaos everywhere. A circus is ALWAYS entertaining.) But I wouldn’t say that our lives are particularly noteworthy, either. Not in a way that deems it necessary for me to share with countless others the details of my thoughts or my family’s daily walk. Is this starting to make sense?
Given all that, this thing I’m writing is an act of obedience. I felt God’s urging to write it down (me to God, “Write WHAT down?!” I’m still not even sure.) To record it. To preserve these pieces of our lives as a monument to him. As hard as I tried, I just couldn’t get away from it. After all, isn’t this what we are supposed to do with our lives? Set them up as monuments to Him?
Joshua 4:1When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, 2“Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, 3 and command them, saying, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests’ feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.’” 4 Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. 5 And Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, 6 that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ 7 then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever…24 so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, that you may fear the Lord your God forever.”
God had just done something miraculous amongst the people of Israel. He had made a way for them. Again. He had parted great waters for them. Again. And all he asked of them in return was that they remember. WE MUST NEVER FORGET TO REMEMBER. He asked that they remind each other (because we’re so prone to forget), that they tell their children about it.
In the New Testament, Peter reminds us to add our own stones to the memorial.
1 Peter 2:4 As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, 5 you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ… 9 you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.
Our lives are to be set up as monuments to His faithfulness. You heard what Peter said, our lives should proclaim the excellencies of The One who called us out of darkness and into his marvelous light.
So that’s why I’m writing. I don’t know the exact purpose of what I’m doing or where it will lead or what it will contain by the time it’s all said and done, but here it is.
Here’s my point.
I’m done insisting that there is nothing about my life that God can use.
Doing that makes God smaller than it makes me.
In John chapter 9 you can read about Jesus using a combination of spit and dirt to restore a blind man’s sight. You ever wonder why he used spit and dirt? I mean, being God Incarnate, he could have pulled some magical fairy dust out of the pocket of his tunic if he had wanted to, but instead he used the most common, the most ordinary, the most un-praiseworthy materials around – spit and dirt. If he had used anything fancier, everyone would have gone off thinking that it was the magical fairy dust that would cure all their ailments. Here’s the thing we have to understand: the miracle wasn’t in the materials, the miracle was in the man. Honestly, I was taken a little bit off guard when I sensed Him asking me for my for my spit and dirt. I mean, why would He want my spit and dirt? And then I knew. Because the miracle isn’t in the materials. The miracle is in the man.
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