Satisfying Sanctification

(January 18, 2010)

As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness;
when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.
Psalm 17:15

Christ's righteousness imputed to us and our sin imputed to Christ is a truth to ponder and praise God for! David knows that it is only in righteousness that anyone can behold God's face–and our self-produced "righteousness" is like filthy rags in God's eyes. So the only righteousness he can be referring to is an alien righteousness outside of his own.
I love David's eagerness to wake up with the thought of being sanctified–marveling in Christ's finished work of justification. And he mentioned he is satisfied with being sanctified.
So many times I get frustrated in the sanctification process! I cry out:
O God! Take me home now!
But I wonder if David's satisfaction in sanctification derives from this reality:
Our imperfections glorify Jesus' perfection and power at work in us.

Memorial Musings (Part One):

IFOUND THIS ENTRY IN AN OLD NOTEBOOK (WRITTEN SOMETIME BETWEEN JULY 15 AND JULY 22, 2007). WERE I TO TITLE THIS TODAY, I WOULD NAME THIS:
NOTES FROM A NOMADIC NARCISSIST
Passing through the oval doorway it is apparent that I am finally home. Deafening white noise melts into a comfortable hum–the melody of peace. All material possessions I hold dear in this world are strapped securely to my back and draped around my neck hanging at my side (It is a freeing feeling to value and carry only the essentials in life. Petty possessions and trivial treasures of this earth have a numbing weighty effect on us creatures of the sky). I casually make my way down the isle as if strolling down the hall way of my beloved house–the house I belong in–the house that safely holds memories of the past, comfort for the present, and identity for the future–the house that exists only in my most fanciful dreams. Each face I pass row by row hangs as if in a picture frame on the warm walls of my conjured corridor. Each photo captures a life, a treasure left undiscovered, a song most beautiful, inaudible. Finally I arrive. My couch, my bed for the next few hours. How one human can be confined to a seat less than two feet wide for an extended amount of time yet be so free and uninhibited is beyond me. It is as if I've found my perch from which I can gaze out across the expanse of the earth and catch a glimpse of what the Creator, seated on his heavenly throne, has intimately seen for eternity.
For now out my window I see busy workers simply going about their daily tasks preparing this craft for departure. Curious, none of theses employees seem to wear a smile. No one has a masquerade expression of joy plastered on his or her face. Do they not know that I've arrived on board? Don't they realize that everything my eyes open to is a live drama, a play, written and directed flawlessly, specifically, and exclusively for me? Then it occurs to me: I know that apathetic face. Well, it's the genuine facial expression of routine one often displays living in reality–offstage. These people have been loading luggage, directing aircrafts, driving convayer belts day in and day out before I ever purchased my ticket. Each person on the other side of this triple-paned window has a unique life to return home to when their work day is complete. Where does this strictly self-centered mindset evolve?
The obvious answer may prove more intricate and slightly beyond total comprehension. Naturally each of us inherits a self-centered mentality evident since each of our departures from the womb. Beyond that reality a revelation of compartmentalization hits me humbly and squarely in the face.

A soul caught between two worlds is a dangerously beautiful thing. By definition, a child exposed and living in a culture other than that of his or her parents is a child of a "Third Culture." Frequently transported between continents as a young girl, I quickly adapted to my double life the best way I knew how. Whenever leaving the comforts of "home" to fly to another country, I placed that life, my friends, my memories, my priorities on hold. It was as if I could, just as easily as my suitcase, be packed up and compartmentalized_ [SENTENCE LEFT UNFINISHED]

How beautiful is the life of those who have no place to call home.

Theological Tightrope

In my heart’s wretched woes and daily reminiscing regret
Give me the grace to focus on truth and to never forget:
While I ponder my frustrating sins, like a fetter,
You’re preserving me eternally, a reality far better.
Teach me graceful confidence, coming from you alone,
So that in meekness, I may boldly approach your throne.
For it is Christ who has paid my sinful debt to atone,
He freely chose me-just as freely as the wind has blown.

IT IS SO DIFFICULT to walk this theological tightrope. To the left is the cliff of antinomianism where I see the beautiful truths of Scripture being perverted and misapplied. There is no contrite spirit, only a boastful mentality of presumption that takes God’s promises and assumes those future graces so that sin may increase. To the right of this razor’s edge is a gulf of legalism which does not brashly presume upon God’s graces but, just as wrongfully, doubts God’s future grace so that the present is lived only upon thankfulness for what God has already done.

We need more than just gratitude for grace to us in the past.
Living on, “Thanks for back then,” will never satisfy or last!
Our Father doesn’t want his children to merely survive,
But withholds nothing good from us that we may thrive.

Fragmented Thoughts on Future Grace

Friday, June 19, 2009

MOMENT BY MOMENT future grace is quite an intrusive thought–especially to self-sufficient individualistic adults. This grace humbles because it highlights our inadequacy and finitude. We are bound within time and space so that we are contained only within the present. Yes, we have the ability to imagine and plan for the future, and we can reminisce about the past, but we only live and are sustained in the present.

Perhaps the intrusiveness of the thought of future grace is cloaked by this notion: Were I to live and think and feel as though future grace was a necessity in life, I would be presumptuous and arrogant. But I think arrogance is reversely manifested in that one could subconsciously think, it would be presumptuous of me to assume God’s future grace. Even Paul the Apostle wrote,

“Or do you presume on the riches of [God’s] kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” (Romans 2:4)

See, we can’t assume God’s kindness for anything. Living by faith in future grace is actually just an excuse to presume God’s kindness, forbearance and patience. But this presumption that Paul talks about is referring not to assumption of God’s future grace, but a presumption of God’s apathy towards a continual lifestyle of impenitent sin.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

WHY DOES THIS PLAGUE ME?! This paradox between finding myself presumptuous in seeking solace in anything of the future if it is not the sovereign future grace of God and then not even wanting to plan or think at all in the future, not even to plan anything. Little phrases like, “Oh, for sure,” “Definitely!” “Without a doubt,” “Certainly,” always cause me to perk up and place a filter on the conversation: “Definitely! … you mean, only if the Lord so wills!” Search my heart, God! Is this a fatalistic bent that I’m struggling with? Is this laziness? Is this just how I react to things that are distantly in the future?

How is it that I can joyfully apply the notion of future grace to difficult situations but then think about future grace as presumptuous for the little tasks and struggles of the day? Why does moment-to-moment future grace seem like such a harder concept to grasp and cherish than future grace far down the road? Search me, God, show me my distrust and unbelief. And when you show me the error of my way, please give me the grace to repent then believe and rest in you, your truths, and your promises. Amen.

Truthful Pages

It is by your mighty hand that nations rise and fall
To demonstrate you are the Sovereign Lord over all.
Were it true that we too applied this to our lives
And glorify you in every situation as we realize:
We are finite and you are infinitely supreme,
You are sovereign–even when it doesn’t seem.
Cause our minds in gratitude to thank your holy name,
Remind our hearts of future grace when overcome with shame.

I DO NOT SEE into the future clearly–not even my next breath is guaranteed! But right here in the present I’m overwhelmed, even if it is only confined to my heartless head knowledge, with how I’ve failed and am failing even now: in imprudent use of time, lack of resolution, entertainment of prideful, arrogant thoughts which do not glorify you whatsoever. I can’t even begin to count the ways in which I’m so in need of your sanctifying power! And even so, I’m not even fully aware of the full extent of my depravity–nor will I ever! Your gaze pierces to the depths of my sinfulness beyond even what I know…yet you still love me–not because of who I am, but for your great namesake!

Preach to my soul! You, truthful pages I have read,
Remind me of truth when I hear lies upon my bed.
Chain my mind and my heart to this,
A truth that brings me ultimate bliss:
You, precious Lamb, who died in my stead
Ordained that from me, God’s wrath has fled,
And upon you instead, that wrath was relinquished,
The debt was paid, praise you, praise you! It is finished!

Sir, I belive you are mistaken

Sunday, June 28, 2009

IF THIS BE a season–just a spell of loneliness–I have been given grace afresh this morning to embrace this whole-heartedly! And if God sees it fit and most glorious to his holy Name to ordain this loneliness for my lifetime, I will praise him all the more, for he has chosen to display his great grace and great strength through me in my utter helplessness and hopelessness! Who am I to talk back to him who made me this way? What should I say to him?

“Sir, I believe you’re mistaken, in my calculation, I foresee in my future that I need a husband for ultimate sanctification (after all, it seems as though all of my friends are married, engaged, or in a relationship). But even if it is not your will that I marry, it is at least necessary that my heart be consoled in this loneliness by affectionate hugs from friends, is it not? When was the last time I cherished a sweet embrace of another–a genuine embrace which soothed my tears? Two months ago? I feel as though, since moving into an apartment by myself, I’ve clothed myself with this jacket of impermeability–I’m now unable to communicate or receive affection. This can’t be right, this can’t be healthy, this most certainly cannot be for my sanctification for it is a ripping, tearing, searing within my own heart: am I no longer human? Is it really too much to ask, ‘Please Sir, just one genuine friend? Not that I am ungrateful for my friends now, nor are they insincere, but I don’t know one who understands my thirst for friendship nor how my heart rejoices when I’m surrounded by a family! But even if one could know and empathize, I fear that they wouldn’t reciprocate the same need for affection as I because they are elsewhere satisfied…then, I am left to crawl on my hands and knees, to scavenge for the crumbs of haphazard hugs from others. Perhaps I am being too harsh and critical towards others. Perhaps they do not hug carelessly, and perhaps it is I who am haphazardly speaking. Sir, am I evil and wicked to desire to sit again at the banqueting table of friendship and kindred with others that I may again praise you and thank you for how you minister to my soul through them?’ This question plagues my weary heart. And I know you hold all the power to orchestrate the answer to my plea. Why then, why do you withhold this from me?”

To be frank, after this much needed introspection, I look within my heart at these yearnings and thoughts and reflect with loathsome disgust at my distrust and cynicism toward God! O you of little faith who knows not the precious loving gifts of God! They are never wrapped in the paper I suspect, nor is there a plump bow atop to capture my gaze! Have I been so blind to have been searching, looking, desiring a gift or jewel or present and have lost sight and removed my gaze from him who withholds no good thing? Forgive me God, for my brash inquiries!

The Giver gets the glory,
Not the gift at which we gaze.
He and He alone is worthy,
Worthy of all our praise!

This morning, as I sat in my seat with these thoughts of God’s sustaining grace washing over me, my heart was filled with galvanizing gladness to thank my God for where he has placed me and for guiding me into this dark valley for his glory!

The Pain That Makes My Heart To Sing

O the pain that makes my heart to sing,
Directs my eyes to be lifted up to you
Pondering that which I’m now going through
Is great cause to fall before you and to bring
My deepest heart’s questions and thoughts,
Yearnings, sins, and shortcomings inside
Learning my depravity is deeply unqualified.
But now it is you, not I, who have sought
To bring this shame, guilt, fear to naught.

FATHER, YOU ARE holy and most worthy of praise, perfect in justice and mercy. How is it then, that you bestow so much mercy upon me? Why is it that you do not smite me within an instant–for each sin I commit is a cosmic act of high treason, against you. Every time I sin, I choose to not treasure you supremely.

Teach me, sovereign Lord, who wields over all
Bend my corrupt affections, break and bind my will
And to your great end, my evil heart’s desires–kill!
To free my heart to love you, not this sinful gall.
Do I suppose you care not how I use my time?
And am I so foolish and preoccupied to think
You’d, by any means, not drive me to the brink
Of my selfish sight to treasure you only as sublime?
Teach me your great love in knowing my great crime.