the makings of a good morning
Take one Audible Sigh (Vigilantes of Love) CD and listen to it on the drive into work on a rainy day, setting track 7 on repeat if so inclined. Sip your freshly brewed cup of Tim Horton's coffee slowly as you amble in to work. Sit down at your desk to discover that your morning meeting (the one for which you were unprepared) has been cancelled and you have an unexpected hour of your day free. Briefly entertain the idea of using this hour to get ahead on work, but instead reach into your shoulder bag for your planner and--to your surprise--discover The Ragamuffin Gospel there. Remember that you slipped it into your bag last night after you re-read a few pages and were struck by what a great book it really is, and was reminded of why you love the book in the first place.And this, in a nutshell, was my good morning. Shortly after that, things evolved into another mundane day ... but for a little while my office was a nice and happy place to be.
Last night I was telling someone about this book (The Ragamuffin Gospel), and I was trying to explain what it is about the book that is so great. I couldn't do it. It's just one of those books that hits some nerve deep inside of you, almost rendering you speechless so that you can't even verbalize what it is that happened. Brennan Manning has a gift for weaving words together in such a way that they can be read by anyone and somehow applied to each person's heart in a very personal way. I suppose that's what good authors do ... they create masterpieces that can be seen by many different eyes, and felt by many different hearts, in many different ways. Rich Mullins saw it (read the Testimony section in the front of the book), my mom saw it when she bought the book, and I saw it when I snuck it from my mom's bookshelf years and years ago (and then again last night).
I love Manning's introductory schpiel in A Word Before ... I read it, and I know this book is for me ... "the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don't have it altogether and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace." That sounds a bit familiar, eh?
I'm sure as I re-read this one, I will be posting more and quoting more, but for now, this will do. It's only a few pages into Chapter One:
The Good News means we can stop lying to ourselves. The sweet sound of amazing grace saves us from the necessity of self-deception. It keeps us from denying that though Christ was victorious, the battle with lust, greed, and pride still rages within us. As a sinner who has been redeemed, I can acknowledge that I am often unloving, irritable, angry, and resentful with those closest to me. When I go to church I can leave my white hat at home and admit I have failed. God not only loves me as I am, but also knows me as I am. Because of this I don't need to apply spiritual cosmetics to make myself presentable to Him. I can accept ownership of my poverty and powerlessness and neediness.
As C.S. Lewis says in The Four Loves, "Grace substitutes a full, childlike and delighted acceptance of our need, a joy in total dependence. The good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his need. He is not entirely sorry for the fresh need they have produced."
There have been some fresh needs surfacing in my life lately, and I am definitely not sorry that they are there. If there were no needs, there would not be the opportunity for God to fill them. And I would much rather have the little chinks in my life and the gaps in my faith filled with Him and His grace instead of my second-rate cement or glue or whatever it is I try to use to fix things.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home