Keeping Your Eye On What's Important

Yesterday afternoon, before our church service, some members of the congregation all got together to discuss a book we are reading. The book is about cultivating the spiritual disciplines - and how that discipline leads to true freedom.

One example the author used to show this was the example of musicians. Expert musicians can pick up their instrument (or sit down before it, if it's something heavier than the normal human being can lift - although I don't suppose expert musicians can be called normal human beings...I digress), have a song placed before them that they have perhaps never seen before, and play it from start to finish beautifully, gracefully, wondrously.

It's something that has always made my jaw drop. This expertise. This freedom to play whatever they want to play.

But where did the freedom come from? It came from years of discipline. I remember the first time my own teacher sat down and played something for me to hear. She hadn't seen the song in ages, and yet there it was, played perfectly by her quick and graceful hands. That grace came from years upon years of practice.

To have the freedom to do things well, to have the freedom to do what you desire to do, you must discipline yourself.

I am not there yet, both musically and spiritually. Musically I'm far behind. I began taking lessons when I was eighteen, the age when most people quit. I worked my way up from songs that were half a page - maybe twenty notes in total in the whole song. Not a lot. I can tell you, sometimes I would think of people I knew or had seen, who were my age and playing something by Beethoven or Bach, and here I was playing blurbs. When I looked at it like that, I could get pretty annoyed with myself. Why couldn't I play anything more? The reason was I was exactly where I needed to be, to train myself to be able to go to the next step, to play the next grade.

Similarly, I often find myself frustrated or annoyed at my spiritual progress. Shouldn't I be better than this by now? I mean, come on! Am I seriously struggling with my temper, losing my patience, blowing up, resenting, being angry? What is the deal?

In some ways, I should be feeling annoyed with myself. As piano takes practice and devotion, so does spiritual growth. Sometimes I fail to give God the time that I should. I fail to think upon His Word. I fail to pray when I should. This is because I am undisciplined.

Yet I also have to remember the journey. I have to keep my eye on what's important.

As a pianist, when I thought of what others could do that I couldn't, I was annoyed with myself. Frustrated at my lack of ability. Yet when I remembered what this small note and that small phrase would train me to do eventually, I took delight in every song. Every note became a step in the journey. And I love it, because the prize is worth it. The finish line is worth it.

You see, prayer and Bible reading and such are only good, are only delightful, if you keep your eye on what's important. Bible reading wouldn't be important, except that it's a path through which you can learn more about God. Prayer wouldn't be important, except that it's a tool through which you can pray to God.

The Living God has given us these things so that we can commune with Him, know Him better, and glorify Him through obedience and Christlikeness. What joy we can have when we look to the prize!

The prize is Jesus.

And Jesus is so totally worth it.

One Face in a Million

People are very limited in their knowledge and relationships.

I know many faces, and I am on a genial level with a number of people, but I am only close with a select few.

Think about it: how many people in the world do you actually know?

Imagine a circle that represents your intimate friends and family. Those you trust. Those you know. Those you love. Fairly decent size, maybe; not too big.

Now imagine a circle that represents acquaintances - people you know of, people you have met. People you talk to and whose company you even enjoy. Perhaps the guy who runs the gas station down the street, or your doctor, or a fellow employee, etc. It's a bit bigger than the first circle, isn't it?

Finally, imagine a circle that represents all the people you have never met. How big is that circle?

Do you feel like one single, insignificant face among millions? I do sometimes.

I walk into a grocery store and see all of these faces I don't know. Sometimes I drive down the road, looking at cars passing me by, and wondering who the driver is. What their life is like. Who they know. Who they love. But I don't know. I can only speculate, and even my speculation can't go far. I don't know them. They are distanced from me by my and their limitations.

I have sent thank-you notes to authors and artists in the past. People I respect and admire. Their responses have always been kind and gracious, yet there is a distant feeling within them. I don't blame them for that; they don't really know me, even if they appreciate my appreciativeness. I'm a single, unknown face in a sea of faces. There's no personal attachment. There are too many fans to know them all closely.

But it's not the same with God. For all the people He knows, all the faces He sees, it's as if there's just me. Just you. He loves each of us so fully, so intimately; there is nothing hidden from Him. He knows us better than we even know ourselves. We are not one insignificant face in the world, but a face that means the world to Him. We are one in a million; precious; priceless to God. Isn't that amazing?

He never forgets a face, He never loses touch, He never answers our questions and prayers with a distant response. He is close, personal, loving, welcoming, open. He is the Father. He listens. He loves.

So don't think that God is distant or uninvolved. Don't think that He does not know your face or your name. He knows. He's there.

"An infinite God can give all of Himself to each of His children. He does not distribute Himself that each may have a part, but to each one He gives all of Himself as fully as if there were no others."

- A. W. Tozer

Perspective

God is gigantic. His being, power and glory are vast and omnipotent.

 

He is the God of the Universe, the Cosmic Lord of all things visible and invisible, of light and darkness. He is amazing and awe-inspiring. He created worlds and creatures and things and beauty and loveliness. He ordered the stars in the heavens. He painted the majestic sunrise I saw this morning.

 

He is the Emperor, the King, the Supreme One.

 

I am tiny and insignificant. I am weak and frail. I am dependent and ignorant. I am clouded with sinfulness and inclined to walk in darkness.

 

The Mighty God rescued me. Not that He needed me, but He wanted me. He was complete and sufficient in Himself before the world and time began. He needed nothing, and receives nothing from me that He did not first give. His grace is astounding in that I am taken, weak and frail as I am, and declared a child. Adopted into the family of God Himself, and He delights in my toddling steps.  

 

God is so lofty that if I tried to reach Him myself it would never happen. The beauty of grace is that He can reach from the east to the west, and He came down. He gathered me to Himself.

 

Oh, to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be...