inkhorn

For a brief explanation of what this is about, look here . Implicit Obedience Doesn’t Involve Reconnoitring! The first three chapters of Deuteronomy are an excellent example of oral tradition. Just before the next generation was to enter the Promised Land, Moses sat down and recited their history over the past forty odd years. The purpose was two-fold – to ensure that the youngsters knew their past, as well as being a reminder of the pit-falls they should avoid. And one of the pit-falls is in the passage below – “And I (Moses) said to you... 'Look, the Lord your God has set the land before you; go up and possess it, as the Lord God of your fathers has spoken to you; do not fear or be discouraged.’ “And every one of you came near to me and said, ‘Let us send men before us, and let them search out the land for us, and bring back word to us of the way by which we should go up...’ “The plan pleased me well; so I took twelve of your men, one man ...

Another soul-searing truth I’ve learnt about myself is that I’ve never really loved my Father! I mean, yes, I do love Him (or thought I did), because He died for me and saved me and all that, but, truly, deep down, if I was being brutally honest, I’m not sure how real my love for Him is. I’ve never sought Jesus just for the pleasure of His company! I’ve always come to Him for...something; needs to be met, unfulfilled desires or even guidance for the next step. But just to come and sit at His feet and bask in His presence? Rarely, if ever. I can probably count those times on one hand! The heart-breaking truth is that He loves me in spite of my grasping, opportunistic tendencies. He is willing to take me...even like this!

So here I am, at another Blogathon. This one is turning out to be more of a discipline than I’d bargained for - learning to be still in the midst of chaos and putting pen to paper. As difficult as it seems today, I believe it needs to be done. Thanks FD for understanding, and those kind thoughts of comfort. My grandfather, went home to Jesus last week. He was 99 years old. There are so many thoughts flying through my mind right now as I try to straighten out and put down my feelings. Even though I knew this day would come, it still doesn’t lessen the pain and shock or prepare you in any way. I still feel sad. I still wish he were here. I still miss him. There are so many things I remember about him. Thatha , as we lovingly called him, was a force to be reckoned with. A brilliant sportsman, he had a whole trunk full of trophies and medals, garnered over years of competing and winning. But I admire him more for never boasting of his laurels. He had more to boast about than...

When all is said and done, it boils down to Belief. It’s at the very core of our faith. Belief in what, you ask? It’s more than in the existence of God. Rather, His character, His attributes and their dependability in any given situation. Trusting that He is still in control; trusting that He knows and understands and loves. That He is working out His plan for me, however much the situation may seem to the contrary. Especially, when I want to hit something and yell, “Why?”(Not very ladylike I must admit! Banging pots and pans in the kitchen help relieve the frustration a teeny bit though!) It’s so easy to question God and wonder if, maybe, He made a mistake, or if I misread the signs! Yet that is where belief kicks in. It’s so damnably hard! But it’s a conscious choice to believe that He knows, He cares and that He is in control. Belief cannot be taken lightly. It is the crux; what will finally be reckoned – did I or didn’t I, believe? Was my unbelief, an insidious part of my ...