COME HOME, CHILD.

The compassion of the Lord is new every morning. The imposing grip of night cannot restrain the glimmer of the unveiled dawn. The sweet Spirit of God makes all things new and breathes upon all things the breath of life. Let us inhale. For sorrow may be with us for the present, but joy will surely come in the morning. There is hope. Resilient, tenacious, unwavering hope. There is a divine gaze that must be met...a security and freedom from striving and storms to be found in the eyes of him who has turned his eyes toward us. To direct our stare anywhere else is folly. To rest our attention any place else, madness...a self suffocation of our souls that can lead only to despair and dismay. I've felt yet again his tap on my shoulder. Yet again have I sensed his invitation...a call to lose myself forever in him that I may inevitably be thoroughly found. I have heard his call home...and for now at least, at this time, I will say: "Speak Lord. Your servant is listening.".

THANK YOU!

The past few weeks have ushered in significant changes. I find myself facing a home on a different continent, the pursuit of different vocational opportunities, the dawning of a new and different year and the beginning of a different chapter in life along with all the hurdles and joys that it may bring. Most of these changes have occurred contrary to my hopes and preferences, but they stare me in the face, real as can be, just the same. Finding things to whine and complain about is no difficult task. I've been perfecting that skill for some time now unfortunately...though learning to discard it is thankfully not impossible.

Rather than stick to the form that comes naturally though, I'll aim to embrace a different tack. In the midst of all these changes and fluctuations in circumstances, one thing has remained constant. I'd like to take this brief moment to acknowledge the goodness and faithfulness of God that continues to be the foundation and bedrock in my life that is unshaken by the unpredictable winds of change. I'd like to acknowledge his constant love and kindness which are never far from me...never beyond my reach. I'd like to express my gratitude to him for the precious gift of life, and for his dealings with me that continue to be infinitely better than I could ever deserve. I'd like to lay at his feet this new year that lies at mine, and commit to him every dream, hope and aspiration that my heart might find itself drawn to. I'd like to honor him with the surrender of my free will, which will never find me free unless freely submitted to his will. I'd like to thank him, simply and humbly, for everything he is and does.

EMBARRASSED MUCH?

It was a lovely, sunny afternoon. A good friend of mine in high school was playing in a provincial tennis tournament. This guy was good. I took my place in the stands among a multitude of others looking forward to enjoying a competitive game on a gorgeous day. My friend was down on the tennis court practising some of his strokes before the big match. Suddenly, he notices me in the stands and motions for me to make my way down to him to exchange a few rallies before his official opponent arrives. Pretty neat stuff I say! Forget about pathetic name dropping and vague associations. Now this whole crowd of people was going to see that I was close friends with this tennis prodigy. Most excellent! I eagerly made my way down to the court and happily started enjoying some rallies with my popular friend. Nevermind that my tennis skills weren't worth blowing your nose with. I cared not. What mattered was that everyone was watching me being all casual and cozy with this provincial tennis star. Ah yes...life was indeed so good.

After a few minutes my friend suggests we change sides. No problem. At this point I found myself faced with a simple choice: To either walk around the net like a normal person and uneventfully make my way to the opposite end of the tennis court, or to take this opportunity to dazzle my friend and not to mention this significant crowd, by gracefully leaping over the aforementioned net to the sound of enthusiastic applause. The choice sold itself of course. A graceful leap was the only option. I poised myself as I watched my friend making his way around the tennis net like a clumsy neanderthal. I took a deep breath and bolted full speed toward it. I remember that landmark moment as if it was yesterday. A powerful leap commences, as does the smug smirk that accompanies it. A crowd watches enthralled as time slows to a crawl. Athleticism is showcased as... Hmmm, what's this? A slight hindrance imposes itself upon my elegantly trailing back foot? The very same back foot that entirely succeeds in getting itself tagged on the net line, catapulting this optimistic showman face first onto a tennis court. Just as he imagined, a roaring sound does erupt from a friend and a crowd. This sound is however unmistakably unlike the kind he was keen on invoking. And so there the disgraced little showman lies, intimately acquainted with the taste of dirt while hundreds of people belly-laugh at the top of their lungs...their jubilant exclamations filling the heavens for what felt like an eternity.

The recollection of that infamous exploit of mine always reminds me of what an exceptionally wise man said a few millenia ago. Something about how pride comes before a fall. And how fortunate I am to have such a vivid and personal image to remind me of those prudent words. Pride it turns out, is one subtle, sneaky and ever-present gremlin. Just when you've thought yourself to have conquered it, you find yourself feeling smug and proud about how humble you've become. It is perhaps the chief among all transgressions. It is the absolute polar opposite of who and what God Almighty has revealed Himself to be...love. Pride has no place in the presence of God, just as it should have no place in the hearts of those who seek and hope to be found in His presence. When the God-man Jesus Christ invaded time and space some 2000 years ago He turned the world on it's head, it's priorities upside down, and He showed the human heart the right side up. He displayed an eternal, unlimited and unchallenged power under the control of an unassuming and gentle force even more impressive and enchanting...a selfless, humble and Godly character. Humility it turns out, is not something self-deprecating or cowardly. It is not timid or weak. It is the recognition of the utter futility of having to prove oneself to anything or anyone, and the serene calm and confidence that comes from resting in the mighty arms of God. This God who Himself thought nothing of casting that might aside in order to reconcile the hearts of the broken and lowly to the heart of their Creator. We are not without a worthy example to follow.

DOH!

OK...so I've been totally rubbish at updating this blog. OK...so this note is being written because I suspect I may get an extra visitor or two clicking by sometime soon. Sue me! No. Rather, excuse me. :) Yes, this thing is in major need of some regular updates, but there's always the chance that this might be the post that sets the ball in motion. Just maybe...

Anyway, if you're reading this, I hope you had yourself a wonderful Christmas celebration. I also hope that the soon to be arriving 2009 brings along with it many pleasant surprises for you. May the new year ahead be one of purpose and destiny. I shall be endeavouring to write here more often, but it shall not be this day. This day finds me up at 3:33am with my eyes dried out in their sockets. It's beddy-bye time.

Godspeed to you. I'll "talk" at you again soon. Best wishes. Grant

YOU MUST MASTER IT...

It was a warning that an all knowing God lovingly gave to his son...a son who would hold the infamy of being the first to take human life. As rage and murder burned in the heart of Cain, God spoke to him words that now ring almost as clear in my own ears as if they were spoken to me directly: "Sin is couching at your door. It desires to have you, but you must master it." Lurking at the entrance to your heart...vigilantly waiting for it's opportunity. Engulfed with a desire to overwhelm you as strong as a newly-wed husband's desire for his wife on their wedding night. It's close...closer than you realize, and it's purpose is domination and control. Utterly. Completely.

But..."you must master it". There is an art of war that I must own. A warrior code that is to be as much a part of my life as breathing. A familiarity with the weapons of my warfare and the armor of God that make the word of the living God, the sword of the Spirit, feel as natural in my heart and on my lips as the clothes that hang on my body each day. "Praise be to the Lord my Rock. Who trains my hands for war; my fingers for battle." (Psalm 144:1) It is a quiet confidence in battle born out of the awareness of my dependence on God, and His loving validation, commission and protection of me. That he calls me, his child, to take my place on the spiritual battle plain and wreck havoc on darkness in the legacy of His Son. This Warrior Lamb who fought and won wars in wildernesses and gardens. And as his servant, my brother David did...standing defiantly before an enemy without a hint of fear or an ounce of compromise, intent on leaving the battleground with the rule and standard of God established in the void created by the resistance to, and the eradication of, evil. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. In this place, as it is in heaven.

A soldier fashioned in the image of his Commanding Officer. Unmoved by civilian affairs. Seeking only to please the Master of all. (2 Timothy 2:3, 4) Hands that wield weapons with skill and precision. A heart that loves goodness with absolute passion. A humble child, in the shadow of a mighty Father, who has learned to put serpents and scorpions to flight. A heavenly host cheering. A proud Father smiling...whispering tenderly over his son: "That's my boy."

PEARL OF GREAT PRICE...

"Out over the hillside I see the houselights shine, burning bright to guide somebody home. Here inside my own house I am lighting mine, and it burns against the night for you alone. Until these arms grow to heavy, to hold this candle high. Until these eyes grow to weary, to search the midnight sky. Until this heart has stopped it's beating, until these dreams have all run dry... I'll be, keeping watch for you." - Margaret Becker

These are among the most beautiful lyrics to a song that I have ever come across. An articulation of a longing that finds it's home in every recess of my soul. Try as I may to drown out the ache with pleasure and vice...the inescapable, unavoidable and immutable gentle whisper refuses to release it's earnest grip of me. Calling me to wait. Beckoning me to seek. Hoping that I would forsake all other loves and elevate it above all other desires that would aim to lay claim over me. How foolish I have been so many, many times. So many times have I fled the arms of perfection and crashed into the clutches of destruction. How blind I have been to a beauty compared to which all other beauty is but a murky shadow. How often I must have grieved the heart of a Lover who watches my wayward path...ever present...never forceful.

This life taunts and seduces with numerous trinkets that demand their price. Agents of darkness sprawl out their spiritual snares. Promises of delight ooze from their contorted lips, forcing shallow smiles that mask seething snarls. They maim, manipulate, mutilate and gleefully salivate as trace after trace of life escapes our weary lungs. Liars! Thieves! Murderers!

There is but ONE pearl of great price! There is but ONE treasure that is worth forsaking all others. There is but ONE wondrous Love that shines brighter and more dazzling than anything the universe can boast of, or anything beyond. He eternally remains utterly unique, unchallenged, unparalleled, unsurpassed. The very sight of whom makes the mountains tremble and the heavens burst out in song. The Bright and Morning Star...radiant forever more. Jesus the Christ. May my journeying heart yet find it's home in Him. Devoted. Faithful. Blissfully content. For there is none other worth pursuing. None other at all. Simply...Jesus.

SONLIGHT

One of the most beautiful things I've seen recently is the sight of leafless trees...there limbs encased in ice...the result of freezing rain in sub-freezing conditions. And when the moon is full, and forests such as these are bathed in moonlight, what one witnesses is a sea of crystal branches reaching for the heavens. As if the very landscape itself was fashioned from sparkling glass. It's a breathtaking spectacle. However, the primary architect of this wonderful scene goes largely unnoticed and unacknowledged.

The trees play their role because of the ice. The ice derives it's gleam because of moonlight. And the moon only bathes the earth below in it's glow because it is itself bathed in the radiant light of the sun. Remove the sun from the equation, and the moon has no glory of it's own to boast of. This celestial icon would be doomed to circle the earth in utter obscurity had it not been for the dazzling brilliance of the sun. This sun, which lends the moon it's splendor, and equips it in turn to enchant the earth. The moon is beautiful and shares it's beauty, only because of our nearest star.

But the progression does not end there. The sun in turn is only as spectacular as it is, because of the glorious might and radiance of the Son...the Creator of all things who holds it all in place. So it is with human beings. Cut off from the Son our existences are dull, lifeless...devoid of glory. But were we to expose ourselves to the light of the Son...we could not but be transformed, and in turn illuminate all that crosses our path. We were all born to shine...born to radiate...as one songwriter has put it. But our radiance is dependent entirely on our position to the Son. Let us set our face like flint toward Him. A world plunged in darkness awaits.

PERPETUALLY PRODIGAL...

Sometimes I view the story of the prodigal son as a season of life...a period of time when I've lost my senses and gone against my Father's best for me. Sooner or later I'll regain them, realizing the error of my ways, and return home in pursuit of honor and nobility. Other times, I suspect the story represents my condition as a human being...period. A habitual falling short of the glory of God. A recurring theme of failure and compromise which leads me to intimately understand my desperate need for a Savior. It makes me began to catch a glimpse of how colossal his work of redemption is, and how absolutely dependent on it's promise I am. Outside of the grace of God...I was doomed to remain utterly lost. Diseased with sin and imprisoned by vice...beyond any glimmer of even beginning to save myself. I would've hoped that having been on this journey with God for as long as I have, that I would have by now attained a certain measure of maturity and groundedness in the faith. Yet I often feel as helpless and as ignorant as when I first heeded the call of God at all. I know the scriptures speak of a progression of faith, but perhaps that progression goes mostly unnoticed by the disciple themselves. I hope that's at least partly the case. That God sees in me a development of character that I fail to recognize myself. Alternatively, it may just be that I really am as poor an apprentice of Christ as I often suspect...a lowly son who's sold out his birthright...in dire need of a Father's liberating embrace. That when it's all said and done...I am decreased, He is increased...His steadfast love and tireless goodness celebrated for eternity evermore. A humble saint, bowed reverently at the throne of the Master, forcing proclamations of passionate and grateful adoration through the joyful sobs of an eternally grateful heart.

DEFIANT LIGHT

Sometimes the thought of pursuing God or spending time in His presence makes me feel hypocritical because of the sin in my life that I seem unable or unwilling to let go of. I find myself waiting for some magical moment when I can guarantee a significant period of sinlessness before I approach Him. As I reflect on this, I find the thought rather flawed.

What are the properties of light? A burning candle doesn't glow in the dead of night because the darkness has volunteered to retreat. Rather, the flame does only what it knows to do, and the darkness must surrender it's grip. Never before in the history of this world has the smallest candle been extinguished by the darkest night. Similarly, Christ's light in my life doesn't shine because the grip of sin has relinquished it's hold. The light of Christ shines regardless, and the sin is overwhelmed. The emphasis is not on the weakness or power of sin, but instead completely on the omnipotent power of God. A candle shines because of the properties of light, not because of the nature of dark. It is in positioning myself in close proximity to the radiant presence of Jesus, however dark my heart may be, that I find myself reflecting his glory, goodness and greatness. I don't gain control of my sin before approaching a Holy God. It is in approaching a holy God that my sin increasingly loses control.

• The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it.
• Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.
• Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

NARROW IS THE ROAD...

Lately I've been feeling the squeeze. Now, there are of course pleasant forms of this phenomenon, but the one I refer to is less alluring. I recall the words of Jesus saying that the road to life is narrow, and that the way that leads to it is straight. Preparation to effectively navigate this kind of path involves a few things. It means I have to travel light...letting go of any unnecessary baggage that might hook on the surrounding clutter or shrubbery, and cause me to lose my pace or my footing. It means I have to be watchful of bandits and thieves who have an easy shot at assailing me. I need to remain ever mindful of the destination I'm pursuing, and of the path I'm on being the only sure way I have of reaching it. I need to resist the attraction of more spacious roads lined with every imaginable entertainment, company and distraction. The forces that seek to knock me of course are varied. Sometimes they arrive in the form of seduction with promises of satisfaction and pleasure. Other times they appear in the form of heartache, trial and tragedy that test my faith and commitment just the same. They all appeal to vanity, and they all lead to vice. Whether or not my symptoms are lust, greed, covetousness, bitterness, cynicism, doubt, rebellion...it matters little. The end result is identical. A life off course. A destiny missed. A purpose forfeit.

I find it so hard so often to do what I know to be right. I feel overwhelmed by my perceptions of what the Christian life requires of me. As if I've been given a task that I was not sufficiently equipped to complete. I feel dwarfed by the temptations and distractions of life...unable or unwilling to set my face like flint toward the face of Christ. I fatten myself with sin and compromise, doubt and stubbornness, and find the yoke I carry become exceedingly heavy as opposed to light as He promised. The road to life seems impossible to squeeze through, let alone to travel at all. I can only echo the words of the apostle Paul: "What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!" In the end...it was, is and always will be God's grace. Yesterday, today and evermore...by the sustaining strength of His Spirit. I feel again the call to life. The call to nobility and integrity. The whisper of heaven defiantly persistent in the face of life's pressures...beckoning me on an adventure to pursue a Savior and Lord who requires and desires all I have and am, and who promises and offers all He has and is. A worthless, futile exchange? I think not. Oh by God's amazing grace...I think not!