So it’s been awhile since I’ve posted.  I had all these words pent up in me and then, around Christmastime, they just ran out.  Maybe writing four sermons in five weeks had something to do with it.  (That was way harder than I thought it would be!).  But, surprisingly (though painfully), it’s been good to be empty. When words are the crowbar in my ever-important toolbox of perceived influence,  it’s often easier for me to leverage my own verbosity rather than using my whole life to plainly tell the story of Jesus.

And, to make matters worse in the middle of  my verbal wasteland, I hit a wall physically, too.  I’ve been living in double deficit:  out of words and out of muscle–all in all, pretty helpless.

I promise you this has nothing to do with me celebrating my thirty-ninth birthday last month either.  While I assume some sort of mid-life crisis is approaching (…in twenty years or so because “sixty is the new forty”…), I think I’m gassed because I’ve too often been busy doing what I see fit as Campus Pastor at Blanchard Warrenville (and diligently blogging about it along the way…) rather than waiting for half a minute and listening to what the Holy Spirit might have in mind for what’s next.  I don’t want to oversimplify this season in my life or kick up the dust of my own desert unnecessarily, but

this is one of those times where it’s good to come to the end of me again.

I don’t know if your life is like this or not; but in my fleeting moments of honest self-reflection, I often see mine as the arc of a pendulum on a clock, surprised at the sudden inertia I’m experiencing, getting pulled in the opposite direction when I’ve just gotten used to view in front of me.  And, more often then not, it’s in the transitions of life, just when I’m reaching my peak in energy, optimism and confidence, God reminds me once again that I’ve swung too far and it’s time for a correction.  So Christ slows me down whether I like it or not (always graciously but not necessarily gently).

That’s why the symbolism and the disciplines of Blanchard’s Solemn Assembly last Sunday evening ground me so well as we enter into Lent.  Weighted in the rich truth of Colossians 3:1-17 and carried in the arc of ash, cup and sash, I’m reminded that I am indeed a hopelessly lost sinner saved by God’s majestic, costly grace and made new in Christ and Christ alone.

So enough of me already–and more of God’s powerful, gentle Spirit moving me back into alignment:  more surrender, more humility, more confidence in Christ to do what He’s said He’ll do in me and to tell the story in His words, in His time.

So how’s your pendulum swinging these days?

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