My day in a sentence:

Time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life.

Facing my giant

I took my power in my hand
And went against the world;
’T was not so much as David had,
But I was twice as bold.

I aimed my pebble, but myself
Was all the one that fell.
Was it Goliath was too large,
Or only I too small?

~Emily Dickinson

Pride is such a sneaky little evil. It usually doesn’t take me long to recognize my failures, but it always takes me forever to dig myself out of the holes I manage to fall into head-first. I usually adopt a thoroughly disgusted attitude towards myself and my most common thoughts run along these lines:

- God? He’s likely shaking His head: “There she goes again.”
- Way to go Rachel. You never tried counting the repetition on this mistake before…don’t think about starting now. You’ve done this one as many times as there are sons of Israel.
- God hears the prayers of the righteous… Nope. Not me.
- Confession…biblical characters actually tried to establish a relationship with God. What have you done Rachel?? nilo...nada.

I think my favorite biblical character is a close draw between David and Paul. To me, out of all the other characters, these were simultaneously the most human, yet effective saints for God in Scripture. Not only that, but I love the way David’s writings speak right to my heart, and Paul is always there for the mind.

Anyway, so as those lovely little thoughts were running their normal course in my mind this morning, it suddenly occurred to me that, well, I messed up again. David goofed up royally with Bathsheba. He wasn’t supposed to even be at the palace, much less ogling another man’s wife, and HE KNEW IT! But he didn’t sit around and mope when Nathan confronted him; he went straight to God.

Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me.

- Psalm 51:1-3

David’s offense meant death if anyone ever dared say anything under normal circumstances. Even worse, his sin was always fresh. [not like I haven't been there before!] Yet David didn’t ponder the significance of his wrong action and leave it at that. Like a small child, David appealed to God as a loving father; something that I’m simply not accustomed to.

In church last Wednesday, one of our elderly gentlemen made the statement that because of Christ, we no longer stand behind a curtain, unable to enter into the presence of God. I can come as a child, wrap my arms around His neck, call Him “Abba” (Daddy) and make my requests in His ear. I still must remain responsible for my actions, but knowing that my heavenly Daddy cares for me so much more than my earthly daddy is a knowledge that floors me (and often makes me cry) anytime I try to wrap my mind around it.

As a child of God, I am surrounded with his lovingkindness, His tender mercies are constantly available to me. Only my pride can keep me from Him.

See, it’s not my job to judge my sins, nor is it my responsibility to decide what God can handle, who He listens to, and whether or not He will answer me. It's like a child punshing himself for what he's done and often, without even realizing it, I am harder on myself than God even is.

Rather than taking on a giant that I can’t beat anyway, I will rest in my humility, as David did, and beseech my Father for not only His forgiveness, but for His favor.

My little children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world. And hereby we do know that we know him, if we keep his commandments.

- John 2: 1-3

Killing Time...

Dear Finals,

In a word: I'm terrified.

You possess the qualities of a tyrant without even trying, and trying to defeat you is a daunting chore. (I think you must have taken lessons from Machiavelli.)

You are omniscient because you often know the answers when I do not. You are omnipotent because you manage to consume at least two weeks of my life without even trying. You are omnipresent because you exist as a looming and impending occurence from August to December, from January to May, and in some cases, from June to August. Always, always always...

You invade my subconscious mind much like the barbarians invaded Rome (which was sacked in 410 BC); slowly but surely deconstructing my cognitive powers and making certain that I will retain absolutely nothing of value or relevance on the day you arrive.

Like the division of Europe during the Religious Wars (from 1562 to 1648) you divide my mind into several pieces and leave me to reconnect them. Once I've sketchily reconnected the thoughts you've scattered here and abroad, I seem to be predestined, elected, and chosen by you to a degree of everlasting tormet determined by the amount of studying I've completed by the time you requre an account of myself.

Finals, I. will. not. give. up.

My efforts for success will not be as futile as those of Guy Faulkes in the Gunpowder Revolution! I shall, like Augustus in 31 BC, piece together my scattered pockets of knowledge and connect them with thoughtful roads of wisdom and insight that will so astound my professors, that my finals will turn tail and run in the face of so formidable a Reformation!

I shall emerge triumphant, and on Tuesday, at 11:59 pm, I shall shout: IT IS FINISHED!!!!!

Sincerely,

- Rachel