God knows kids screw up

I currently don't have the mental energy to give this subject the time and analysis it deserves. So, please to be forgiving the slapdash feel of these thoughts. ;o)

I've been thinking a lot lately about this:

In the denomination in which I grew up, either I was taught, or I absorbed as though through osmosis, that mistakes and sins are the same thing.

They are not.

Sometimes, I do the wrong thing for the simple reason that I am a human being.

I am a child who has not yet acquired all the necessary skills for leading a life free from mistakes.

I understand the difference between good and evil. But sometimes, I just don't know any better than to do something. Sometimes, I just make a mistake. It's not a sin. It just wasn't the right decision.

Like I said, there's more to it than this, but that's all I have brainpower for right now.

Ending thusly:

"God knows quite well how hard we find it to love Him more than anyone or anything else, and He won't be angry with us as long as we are trying. And He will help us."

--C.S. Lewis
in Letters to Children, 6 May 1955
(Emphasis mine)

i am up to my old tricks...

...of staying up till all hours of the night. Or the wee hours of the morn, if you will. Or even if you won't. Either way, I've gotta get out of this nightowl routine again, or I'm never gonna get adjusted over here.

Speaking of adjusting, here's a funny thing, if you think this kind of thing is funny: While we lived in Chemnitz, I spent September through May of every year feeling almost unbearably cold, especially where the temperature of my poor footsies was concerned. No matter how much I bundled up, I was usually cold. The acquisition of a hot water bottle a few years ago was a great help, but I had to keep it filled with almost boiling water at all times, otherwise it was useless. ("The boy's Eustace, m'lord!" "'Useless'? I dare say he is!") So most of the time, I simply bundled up and froze and made sure as many people as possible were aware of my utter misery. (Sorry, friends.)

Since we've been here in OKC, I haven't been cold. At least, not as bone-deep, ice cold as I usually am this time of year. This is partially due to the fact that the weather here is a bit warmer than in Chemnitz, and partially due to the central heating prevalent in this part of the country. In most places here, including in my own apartment, I have been warm to the point of feeling uncomfortable.

Until this morning.

Yesterday, when I started unpacking boxes, I got too warm. The sun was shining outside, so the apartment got pretty toasty as the day wore on. Finally, I just switched the heating system off, and it has been off ever since. Today, I even had the windows open, so as to create a through-train (draft). Yup. On purpose.

Okay, now here's the funny thing: This morning (or, rather, yesterday morning, since it is already the 20th), while sitting at breakfast, I got cold.

And I liked it.

Because it felt like home.

excerpt from Courtney's journal

July 24, 2005

In the rubble that is too often our office, Ed unearthed the November/December 2004 issue of 21st Century Christian, and I found the following in it which struck me as noteworthy and thought-provoking:

“Mr. C.S. Lewis…said, ‘There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.’ We look at each other and see—what?—nothing special, just a guy, just a waitress, just a cop, just a Sunday School teacher. But Lewis rightly points out, ‘Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors,’ (The Weight of Glory).

“As we walk sleepily and distractedly through this vale of tears, we would do well to recall that these seemingly-ordinary folks all about us are in fact pretty extraordinary (and need to be treated thusly). That woman was made in the image of Almighty God. And this fellow is my brother for whom the Lord Jesus Christ died (Romans 14:15). ‘Next to [communion] itself,’ Lewis wrote, ‘your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.’

“Things are not always what they seem.”

--from Things Are Not Always As They Seem
by Ken Durham

I say that I agree with Durham and Lewis. I say that I believe they’re right, that I believe each of my fellow humans is an immortal with either heavenly or damned potential. I say that I believe that each of my fellow humans is either an immortal horror or an eternal splendor…

…But do I live as though I truly believe this?

If I truly believed this, if I truly believed that my fellow humans are nearly the holiest objects in existence here on earth, how would this belief change my relationships? How would this belief in the holiness of humans change how I see everyone else besides myself?

Would I still mutter irritably under my breath at the guy who rides his bike on the sidewalk where he shouldn’t?
Would I still rant and rave and bluster about how that woman annoyed me and “spoiled my mood” this morning?
Would I still complain or giggle about someone when that person isn’t present?
Would I still point out a fellow human being to my friends so we can laugh amongst ourselves at how that person walks/talks/dresses?
Would I still just say whatever pops into my head when speaking with others, instead of giving a little more consideration to the effect my words are going to have?
Would I ever dare make the statement that another person deserves to die?
Would I ever dare make the statement that another person got what he/she deserved?

I’m a sinner. I deserve to die. But I’m also a child of God. So I will never get what I deserve for eternity.

If I truly comprehended all the implications of these facts, I would treat other humans, these holy, immortal beings—for better or for worse—with an attitude of sacred care. Not with irritation, anger, contempt, or belittling. But with respect. And sincere, honest, devoted, self-sacrificial love.

Can you imagine what the world would look like if only we Christians—not even anyone else, just the Christians—treated other people in this way?

Talk about changing the world.