Learning the Hard Way
A Lesson on Legalism
She knew that it was important to read the Bible and pray every day. She’d known this since she was young. After all, you can’t have a relationship with someone you don’t talk to! Nor can you know someone you don’t listen to. So, she worked hard at creating a daily habit which grew into a morning ritual. Up with the birds, coffee in hand, Bible in front. It was quiet, serene even. It was calm, meditative. It was enriching, impactful.
She learned the hard way, however, that although there was great benefit to this discipline, it was dangerous. The feeling of doing something well was encouraging but there was also a feeling of pride and self-satisfaction—as if it meant she was a ‘good’ Christian. The danger was the temptation to believe that God loved her more because she was succeeding at reading her Bible. But if that was true would he love her less if she missed a day? What about a week? Or longer? Best to just keep pushing on. Try not to slip.
She learned that habits were healthy, but the danger of them was losing sight of grace.
The Witnesses
The pot plant sits quietly on the kitchen bench. It’s a cactus, chosen because it is more likely to survive my “care”. It looks like an otherworldly observer. It bears witness to the fresh early light, coffee grounds spilling from the aeropress and me humming cheerfully while fighting with rebellious bits of egg shell in the frying pan. But this cactus also witnesses things which I do not want documented; bench clutter, unwashed dishes, the midnight microwave whirr for insomnia popcorn, the bored opening and closing of the fridge, a frustrated tirade and hot tears. But it doesn’t judge. It’s just there, a silent witness.
My iPhone feels more judgy. I think it knows me better than anyone. It witnesses my slide into anxiety or restless boredom, as I search for a distraction. It witnesses how many beautiful moments I’ve experienced and photographed, yet never returned to dwell on with thankfulness. It witnesses who I reply to. It also witnesses who I complain about and delay replying to. Please don’t put it on the witness list!
God’s Good Gift of Pets
On Thursday 12th June, after seventeen years of hellos and goodbyes, I said goodbye to my beloved dog Maya for the final time. She closed her weary eyes and drifted off while I hugged her tight and told her how much I loved her and that I was right by her side. The vet left us alone together and, strangely, sitting with my dog’s body didn’t seem too weird or morbid. I knew it was the last time I would ever see her. I thanked God for seventeen years of her faithful friendship and even for all the irksome things (like dragging home many revolting carcasses on the farm), with tears fogging my glasses.