Escaping Aggravation

What do you find aggravating?

For many, the myth of Sisyphus captures the essence of frustration. Sentenced to roll an immense boulder to the crest of a hill, he looked on helplessly as the task was reset over and over again.

Within Scripture, the imagery of frustration, frequently portrayed by the Old Testament prophets, involves fields and vineyards that will be laboriously watered with one’s sweat, only to see the fruit harvested by conquering enemies.

The book of Ecclesiastes opens with eleven verses of 360-degree madness: Circles upon circle upon circles:

  • Generations passing.
  • Sun rising and setting.
  • Winds blowing.
  • Seas filling and emptying.
  • Desires motivating and remaining.
  • Ingenuity creating and re-creating.

Solomon, the king of wisdom, makes an observation (1:14) that is equal parts of sour reflection and sober recognition: We are all belted to a merry-go-round. And minus some serious center of orientation, vanity spins on the horse beside us.

Said another way, we are all within inches of living very frustrated lives, existing in ways that feel akin to “chasing the wind”.  This is a path all-too-easily found.

This is why Ecclesiastes often seems so depressing, because here we have Solomon, gifted more wisdom and wealth, power and pleasure than perhaps any other man or woman in history, and HE (of all people) speaks fluently of the vanity of life.

But the careful reader of Ecclesiastes must not miss verses like Ecclesiastes 2:26:

“For to the one who pleases Him, God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy, but to the sinner, he has given the business of gathering and collecting, only to give to one who pleases God.”

The statement is not that life must be frustrating.  The statement is that life will be frustrating, to the extent that our goals and motivations are self-centered.  To the one bent on pleasing God, a path radically different from “vanity” opens itself wide.  It is a path where genuinely impacting learning takes place and where profound joy is tasted.

And it is a path readied for those eager to cast down self-imaged idols, in exchange for an existence centered around living out our parts as people bearing the Divine image.

And that is the opposite of vanity in every way.

Closing a Massive Gap

A favourite Scripture for many is Isaiah 55:8-9:

8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. 9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Typically, this passage causes reverence, even worship toward this God so vastly different from ourselves.  Any who choose to pursue Him will experience wonder and taste mystery; sometimes the encounters are downright bewildering, but the sentiment in Isaiah 55 is that we are grateful that God is unlike us.

Within context, the surrounding verses place the emphasis squarely upon God’s unlike-us characteristics toward compassion, pardon, and forgiveness. In these ways particularly, God’s ways are vastly removed from ours. And that is reason to praise him.

But when we are not hailing hallelujahs, we may be moaning for mercy. The possibility of enjoying intimacy and walking closely with this God of outrageous grace hinges upon significant shifts in our mindsets. To the extent that our touch is ungracious with our fellow creatures, we can expect Creator God, the One who deals in the currency of grace, to undertake the work of renovating our lives with an incessant force.  Among the first parts of Creation that the Creator longs to make new are the hearts of those who wear His name.

His thoughts may not be our thoughts, and His ways may not be our ways.  But you can bet that He is dedicating His power and focus to closing that massive gap.

Back on the Blogging Horse

I do not own a horse, never mind one that writes.

However, developing a steady writing rhythm has seemed nearly as impossible as discovering a pen-wielding pony!  Over my blogging journey, I have been bucked off more times than I can count.  But this latest two-month silence has been the hardest.

I WANT to write.  Less than four months ago, I even took a dare to assert this identity with four blunt words: I am a writer.

Did I jinx myself? Scare myself? Did the birth of our third child, all of whom are currently four and younger, have something to do with it?

I don’t believe the first, I might buy the second, and I definitely embrace the third, though I refuse to use it as a full-blown excuse.  There is never a perfect time to take a step forward; resistance and upward slope are always present.  I do not deny the uniqueness to our little-kids season of life, but I also recognize the foolishness of awaiting ideal conditions before moving one’s feet.

Perhaps this post can be one such step, the throwing of a leg back over a saddle that I insist on filling.

Let’s ride, my friends.