finals week

So, this morning I turned in a 17-page paper on Romans 8. It's one of those parts of Scripture that I continually find myself going to. If ever there was a source of comfort and security in material form, it would exist on the pages of this chapter. But also, I love how it describes the human condition: that the beauty of redemption and the influence of sin are constantly at odds. In the face of forgiveness is the temptation of a broken world.

Verse 9 reminds me of the responsibility involved in knowing Him. How many times have I attempted to mask my blatant sin with some explanation of weakness or inevitable failure associated with my inborn nature? Thankfully, I will leave the latter question rhetorical. Here it is:

"You, however, are controlled not by the nature, but by the Spirit, if the Spirit of God lives in you."

Then, there comes this freaking perfect description of where we're all at, verse 10:

"But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, yet your spirit is alive because of righteousness."

I often feel dead because of the things inside and around me. But regardless of how this world makes me feel, or even the mistakes I often make, righteousness is firmly established within my soul. And it is unmovable.

Verse 21 is my ultimate hope, both for myself and you...

"...the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God."

This is not merely a hope, but something that has been made possible, something that I have been given though I don't deserve it. If you can not say the same, then know that it awaits you.

stable = after-thought?

It continuously amazes me just how quickly life happens. The gradual nature of every day life sometimes helps me forget, but as I think back on three or four years ago, everything looked completely different. When I look into the mirror today, I see someone disappointed and hurting from things lost, as well as someone triumphant and hopeful because of things learned. There is a painful nastolgia that comes with change, and yet it is only through this change that I can become who I was designed to be.
Maybe it's the holidays, when things start glowing with lights, when those butterflies from childhood somehow find my stomoach again. I swear, no matter how old I get, those things will never cease to inhabit my insides. They are a reminder of days past, and even despite the changes, I remember where I have come from. Memories provide context for today, and remind me of the loving places I have come from, and offer strength for the bleak troubles of the present.
The Christmas season is a time-marker; a period so commerically hyped-up, and also filled with family, that one can't help but be interupted by it. It has jolted my routine for twenty years now: each successive year seeming to pass more rapidly. It makes me think about the fleeting nature of life. True, things will always remain fragile. But, thank God for the blessings that have brought me strength.