IS IT WORTH IT?

In life, we are called upon to make a variety of decisions. Some decisions we make out of our own choosing. Inevitably, the choices we make lead to consequences. Sometimes the scale of the decisions and consequences are relatively insignificant. They result in no lasting or profound impact. There are of course other instances when the scale of choices and consequences is nothing short of life-altering, for good or for bad. In times when the consequences are surprising painful and difficult, or harsher than we might have anticipated, we are tempted to doubt the correctness of the course of action we embarked upon that led us to such a challenging place.

TRUTH OR TALES?

So, I found myself thinking tonight...how much honesty do people want to hear? How much can they handle? Do they even care? I have a bit of a choice to make. This little space of mine here, albeit erratically updated, may potentially be visited by anyone. Friends, family, potential employers, total strangers. So...especially in the face of life's disappointments and heartaches, do I put on the game face, click my heels together and think and share happy thoughts? Or, do I wear my heart on my sleeve and spill my digital guts here for the world to see?

Like all of us to one degree or another, I probably will opt to adopt at least some measure of restraint. However, putting on the game face has never been something that's come naturally to me. I can do it when I need to, but heck, this is MY blog, and no-one made you click here, so I guess you're just gonna have to put up with MY rants. :) It's my party, and...well, you know. Besides, if people can't handle or understand a little honest human experience, for good or bad, then I probably wouldn't enjoy their company anyway, or they mine for that matter. Yep...me thinks the guts will go on spilling.

FAREWELL, MAESTRO MICHAEL.

And so...a living legend has become a late one. By now most of the world knows that Michael Jackson is dead. Arguably, and in my opinion probably, the greatest entertainer to have walked the face of the earth. These past few days I've watched the circus of a shameless media fiasco unfold. I'm not referring to the dispensing of pertinent information by legitimate journalists, but rather to the sensationalizing of ratings hungry leaches concerned with nothing other than their own image and advancement. I'm mindful also of the controversies, scandals and blunders that have surrounded the king of pop in the eyes of his critics in the latter years of his life. I wonder who among us could have lived any more 'normal' a life given his upbringing and circumstances.

I find it shameful that his experience of life was increasingly weighed down by the embarrassment and pressure thrust upon him as the result of the conduct of greedy, self-serving and unscrupulous people. I think it sad that a genius of modern times may have breathed his last breath on earth without being adequately aware of the worth and beauty of the legacy he left behind. In my humble opinion, this gentle, kind and generous soul deserved better. He deserved to leave this world with far more dignity than he did. Thank you Michael, for your passion, your dedication and your life. May God be with you.

SICK SUCKS!

Hello folks. I've spent the last few days trying not to die as a result of the flu from hell. A strange thing it is...how the human body can produce such a seemingly endless supply of snot so rapidly. :) I don't get ill very often at all, but when it hits, it surely doth suck. It does make me appreciate the gift of health...something which I can so easily take for granted. Anyhoo, I just wanted to take a brief moment to say hi and make an appearance here, as I've committed to being more consistent at. If you're reading this, I hope you're doing well as can be, and I appreciate you taking some time out to spend with poor little sickly ole me. More to follow soon. Ciao for now.

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.