Growth

Starting Off Right

“One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.” – Psalm 27:4

Happy New Year!

As I think about starting another trip around the sun, I’m reminded of how much freedom a beginning can bring. Every 365.25 days we start another new year. With our thanks to Julius Caesar, this turning of the calendar gives us a new opportunity to become the people that we think we can be. Of course, January 1 is really just another day like any other, but the perception of its primacy creates expectations for improvement.

Experts will tell you that starting the new year with a bunch of pie-in-the sky resolutions is dangerous because you’re not likely to be able to fulfill them. Instead, they caution, that you should create reasonable goals interspersed with milestones. In this way, you can obtain what you seek.

I don’t know whether David wrote the passage above at the start of another new year, but in it, he does open the door to his heart to share with us his resolution. He has one goal in mind – to be where God is.

As I read the passage, I’m struck by two things. First, David takes such care to emphasize that this is his heart’s desire, that he redundantly identifies it as both the “one thing” he asks, and the object which he seeks. He passionately articulates that for him, this is of preeminence.

Secondly – David says that he wants to be where God is because he desires to both 1) gaze upon His beauty and 2) to be in His temple. The Psalmist both wants to feel God’s pleasure and experience His presence. Ill content to just experience God from afar – he desires an intimacy that requires physicality. He wants to both know His Father’s love and to be in relationship with Him.

At the start of another new year, I think that’s a wonderful resolution to make.

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Being Content Growth

Deck the Halls

If you were to visit my house, there would be little indication that Christmas is rapidly approaching. Besides the pile of gifts that are ungraciously stacked in my living room, evidence of the impending holidays is minimal. I’ve been blaming this on the fact that I’ve been having major electrical work done and efforts to decorate would be stymied by the workmen. But this is in reality just a convenient excuse. Even without the “scheduled” repair work, the chances of finding boughs of holly around my place are minimal. I’m just not that in to Christmas. (Although I do wonder . . .now that I have a roommate who’s name is Holly – I’m pretty much situated for Christmas all year round, right?)

I’m not a complete Scrooge. I like Christmas music – although not when the radio stations play it before Thanksgiving. And I love looking at Christmas lights. I could even get into Christmas caroling as long as there’s the promise of hot chocolate awaiting my return. But all the glitz and glitter; the decorations extrarodinaire; and the holiday themed clothing are just not my cup of tea. For me it takes everything that’s sacred about Christmas and trivializes it. Its like its making a mockery out of the celebration.

I realize that for many this isn’t the case. I come from a family who LOVES Christmas (almost as much as my friend, Alex, loves the Dallas Cowboys). For them, the hoopla of Christmas is part of what makes it special. The go to extremes because its a way to acknowledge the elaborate gift of our Savior’s birth. In many ways, I wish I could be like them. For me though, I can’t get into all the extravagance. I know that I’ll lose myself in the trappings and forget the meaning. I’ll worry so much about what seems obligatory that I won’t be compelled to worship. And I’ll focus so much on the holiday that I’ll forget the Savior.

So my house remains undecorated. Christmas-themed clothes are not to be found in my newly organized closet. And the gifts, while wrapped, are not done so in a way that would cause anyone to envy. It’s my way of not losing myself in the celebration and remembering the sacrifice.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to do both. But until then I hope that at the very least, my halls are decked with love.

Fa La La La La, La La La La.

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