The door with no handle
We have been learning to listen to God. Yesterday we practiced the discipline of meditation by focusing on a scene from his word. This morning we'll seek to hear the Spirit by focusing on a part of his world.
I'm speaking this week at Monteagle Sunday School Assembly outside Chattanooga, Tennessee. Monteagle was established in 1882; most of the 160 or so cottages on the grounds were built in that era. I led worship Sunday morning, and speak each evening during "twilight vespers." I've spent my days working in the screened porch of the minister's cottage. I've found this porch to be a wonderful place for study and reflection, primarily because of the massive tree which stands just beside it. The tree and I have become friends this week. This morning its Maker has something to say to me through it.
I don't know what kind of tree this is. I don't know an elm tree from a maple, a hydrangea from a chrysanthemum. In fact, I had to think hard just now to come up with two names for flowers. My tree has a single trunk which rises six feet or so, then splits in two. Its branches start at the split and spread out 30 or so feet in all directions. Its leaves are broad with pointed tips, reminding me of hands. My screened porch blocks the upper part of the tree, so that I have no idea how tall it is.
I could comment on its root system, making the spiritual point that we cannot serve God publicly unless we know him personally. I could focus on the individual leaves and their remarkable detail, observing the fact that God made you with the same detail and purpose. But as I prayed for a word from the Lord just now, my mind was drawn to the ground around the tree. It is bare of all growth. The tree's thick foliage blocks all sunlight from the earth around it. Nothing can grow below it.
At first that seems a shame. It would be more beautiful to see a carpet of green grass or the vibrant color of beautiful flowers around the tree. But we cannot have both. We must choose either the massive tree with its dense branches and leaves reaching to the sun, or a small tree with spindly branches and tiny leaves allowing the sun's rays to reach the lawn below. The larger the tree, the more bare the ground at its feet.
So it is with following Jesus. I cannot do everything I would like in his Kingdom. Paul said, "This one thing I do" (Philippians 3:13). The more I concentrate on his one call on my life, the less I can do anything else. There is a price to pay in serving my Lord. But the more I pay it, the larger my tree becomes in his will. We can be a tall tree or a grass lawn, but not both. What is his "one thing" for you? We'll conclude tomorrow.
I'm speaking this week at Monteagle Sunday School Assembly outside Chattanooga, Tennessee. Monteagle was established in 1882; most of the 160 or so cottages on the grounds were built in that era. I led worship Sunday morning, and speak each evening during "twilight vespers." I've spent my days working in the screened porch of the minister's cottage. I've found this porch to be a wonderful place for study and reflection, primarily because of the massive tree which stands just beside it. The tree and I have become friends this week. This morning its Maker has something to say to me through it.
I don't know what kind of tree this is. I don't know an elm tree from a maple, a hydrangea from a chrysanthemum. In fact, I had to think hard just now to come up with two names for flowers. My tree has a single trunk which rises six feet or so, then splits in two. Its branches start at the split and spread out 30 or so feet in all directions. Its leaves are broad with pointed tips, reminding me of hands. My screened porch blocks the upper part of the tree, so that I have no idea how tall it is.
I could comment on its root system, making the spiritual point that we cannot serve God publicly unless we know him personally. I could focus on the individual leaves and their remarkable detail, observing the fact that God made you with the same detail and purpose. But as I prayed for a word from the Lord just now, my mind was drawn to the ground around the tree. It is bare of all growth. The tree's thick foliage blocks all sunlight from the earth around it. Nothing can grow below it.
At first that seems a shame. It would be more beautiful to see a carpet of green grass or the vibrant color of beautiful flowers around the tree. But we cannot have both. We must choose either the massive tree with its dense branches and leaves reaching to the sun, or a small tree with spindly branches and tiny leaves allowing the sun's rays to reach the lawn below. The larger the tree, the more bare the ground at its feet.
So it is with following Jesus. I cannot do everything I would like in his Kingdom. Paul said, "This one thing I do" (Philippians 3:13). The more I concentrate on his one call on my life, the less I can do anything else. There is a price to pay in serving my Lord. But the more I pay it, the larger my tree becomes in his will. We can be a tall tree or a grass lawn, but not both. What is his "one thing" for you? We'll conclude tomorrow.
posted by God Issues at 5:57 AM
1 Comments:
I feel i could relate to this alot, because sometimes, and im sure some of us go through this too, i come upon beauty and i ask myself why cant i look like that or why cant i have a well defined body with muscles and what not, but like this passage says we are all unique in our own way and we wont find out why until we meet with GOD.
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