Sunday, 11 April 2010

Nothing to Say?

Ever get the feeling that you really, really want to say something but when you think, you're mind doesn't provide the words or sentences or even subject that you just know you'd like to talk about?

Me too.

It's a little funny, in a wry sort of way; and I don't know if this happens to everyone, or just some of us. But when things are going smoothly, and life is happy, and I'm content—it's hard to imagine what it feels like to struggle or be under attack. As soon as things change—and they are apt, I've noticed, to do so at a moment's notice—then the struggle begins, the attack continues, and instantly even though I know things will improve and return to form, I still can't imagine or feel what it is like to be happy and content. Then it's back to being happy, and I forget what it is like to struggle; and back and forth. That's one of the difficult realisations that all Christians eventually come to understand for themselves: Though the roller coaster may not be as violent or as difficult at all times, there will never be a levelling off—struggles against sin and human weakness continue until we die.

If I left it at that, it would be a little depressing, don't you think? Yeah, we're here, we'll struggle all our lives against sin, which we can't in ourselves overcome, then we die— What a life?

But there's more to it than that. Even though we will always struggle, there will still be times, even long periods of time, when life is easier. The battles rarely get less difficult, but as we go on, God helps us, and allows us, victory more than ever. We learn to live through the tough times, knowing they are trials not for our ill but our good.

Not seeking to be dramatic here; but there's a sense in which, all our lives, as Christians, are very dramatic. We're part of a global war—the war to end all wars. When you think about it that way, it gives us a bit of pressure to win, and when we win, there's the realisation that we're part of what God's doing, part of his war, and part of his winning. Which is a far less depressing thought to end on.

1 comment:

  1. I really really needed that. Thanks.