Monday, May 01, 2006

Making up for lost time

I sit here at the keyboard, fiddling with the font, trying to decide what "theme" I'm going to write on, afraid that my blog will be a poor reflection of my intelligence and sensitivity . . . and yet if I don't keep typing, no one will ever know what's beneath the surface anyway. I am a weaver, carver, and sculptor of words; yet I am afraid of their power. So to keep from embarrassing myself in front of my audience of two, I abstain. But as with many powerful forces, it is perhaps the absence of words that says more about me than any jam-packed blog ever could.

Nevertheless, my fingers are itching with guilt -- that I've kept quiet so long, that I very rarely do what I set out to do, and that I'm -gasp- human -- and I tap on the keyboard, wondering what I can do to make it all right.

Where did I ever get this compulsion to make up for all the time I've lost and the entries I could have posted? I could never make it up anyway, and what would be the point? Just like with all my other shortcomings in life, it's easy for me to see where I messed up, what I left incomplete, what I should have done. If only I could just go back and do it over, or pay for what I've broken. I'll do penance -- whatever it takes -- if I can just feel like I've made it right again. The trouble is, there is a redeemer, and it's not me. As God so graciously reminds me,

"The multitude of your sacrifices—

what are they to me?" says the LORD.
"I have more than enough of burnt offerings,
of rams and the fat of fattened animals;
I have no pleasure
in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats" (Isaiah 1.11).

God really gets on my nerves. He actually has the audacity to forgive us and not require hardly anything of us -- in fact, He makes it very clear that there's not much of anything we can do to make up for our fallenness. So I'm just supposed to sit here? And I don't have to make up for it? Ugh.

But what really strikes me about this passage is the last part. Maybe I'm reading into it, but I think maybe God hurts when we decide our own sentences (or at least, He takes no pleasure in it). And that, more than anything, motivates me to leave the judging to Him.

1 comment:

Ms Dare2dv8 said...

well put.