The Rise of Hope
A sunrise is a second coming. Slowly, without fanfare, the sun noiselessly breathes away the dark. Black to deep purple to lavender; beauty has many faces. The subtle splendor surrounds, unobtrusive yet insistent, coaxing intent attention. The sunrise has something to reveal, not a secret, but an unfulfilled promise. Subtlety fades, sharpens. The beauty that encompassed withdraws, enticing; eyes can't help but follow. There is something, someone to come. A lover. Beauty is not the lover, but another to whom she points. Color and clarity intensify and centralize. The heart swells, anticipating an arrival. Who is this lover? Who is this lover? Tell me, who is this lover? And before tension reaches despair, an answer...
The Heart as a House
The heart is a house into which we welcome Christ as guest. It is my house, but the desire is that it would become Christ's residence as well, our house.
This house has many rooms and, at first, Christ is barred access to them all. In fact, the very first task is to open the front door to Him, to grant Him entrance. Upon His entrance, we may desire to open all doors to Him at once, but we must resist this temptation. We must open to Him only the door He wants opened, but we must be ready to open whatever door He chooses.
Everyday Stranger
The distance between you and me is not one of geography, but of hearts. It is as if You are the familiar face on the sidewalk, in the coffeeshop, in the mirror; I see You everywhere, but I don't really know You. You're the everyday stranger, the One to whom my heart's inclined, and the One whom I have left behind. How can this be? How can I look at You and then turn away? Maybe it's because you don't seduce, don't lure me by removing Your glory-muting veil. Rather, You woo. You are the Lover who desires the Beloved to freely choose, awaiting the focused gaze to which You can reveal the face that You have kept hidden in patient delight. If only I would let my deepest desire control my roving eyes...will I?
The Mind as Garden
The mind is fertile soil, and just as soil will nourish whatever is planted there, so will the mind. The mind is not discerning in this respect. If seeds of avarice or anger or lust are planted therein, the mind will nourish these seeds and they will grow. We must pay careful attention to the thoughts that arise in us. The devil will throw his seeds out, but it is us who plant them. If we turn away from them, refuse to pay attention to them or dwell on them, the Spirit of God will blow like the mighty wind He is and whisk them away. Conversely, God will also lay out seeds for us, but again, we must upend the soil and plant them. We must be quick about this, too, for the devil is a raven that will descend and carry away the good seed that God has given us to plant. We can be thankful that God created us as naturally oriented towards growth, but we must understand that this capacity for growth is neutral and therefore we must be attentive gardeners of our minds. A garden left to its own devices is soon consumed by weeds.
