Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

A good name (or two!)

A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches,
and favor is better than silver or gold.
-Proverbs 22:1

A friend asked me tonight what "M" stood for.

It took me a while to realize that she was referring to the "M." of "Christopher M. Carignan", in my email signature, which stands for "Michael". Christopher was the most popular name the year I was born and Michael was the second most popular. But the question itself got me thinking about how much I appreciate what my first and middle names actually mean...


Christopher: From the Late Greek name Χριστοφορος (Christophoros) meaning "bearing Christ", derived from Χριστος (Christos) combined with φερω (phero) "to bear, to carry".

Michael: From the Hebrew name מִיכָאֵל (Mikha'el) meaning "who is like God?" This name is commonly misunderstood as meaning "one who is like God". However, the name is actually a rhetorical question, implying that nobody is like God.


I like my names because they remind me of...

  • Who I am: I am a redeemed sheep of Christ's flock, whom He has brought back to the fold by the effective call of His voice. The love of Christ shown to me in His atoning sacrifice creates a gratitude in me which is such a compelling force that I cannot help but preach the Gospel, in season and out of season. I am called to be a Christ bearer.
  • Who I am not: I am not God. I cannot do the work that only God can do. I may be called to be a Christ bearer, but I recognize that none of my words, none of my logic, none of my convincing can ever turn a heart of stone into a heart of flesh. It is the Holy Spirit alone, regenerating a person to understand the oral or written proclamation of the Gospel, which can do this. When people believe on this message, they are saved, both instantly and eternally. I am nothing more than a redeemed sheep who is blessed to be a part of this work by bringing the message to those who will listen.

So, thanks, Nina, for the reminder. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for giving me these two awesome names. And thanks, God, for all You have done to give these names meaning!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

A time of perspective... God knows what I don't.

It's 2:30 am. I've just finished having two long, very difficult conversations with two good friends. I grieve for both of them, and they know that I will be seeking our Lord on their behalf.

As I prayed with one of them tonight, there are so many times when we simply don't, simply can't understand what God is doing. We don't understand why God allows certain things to pass. We don't understand His reasoning in doing so. We don't understand how any good could come out of these situations. But there is one thing that we understand, and that we cling to in times of hardship: God is good and He is sovereign.

I've been thinking recently about Job (no, not this one). I've been thinking how, at the beginning of all of the trials that he faced, his response was simply "the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord" (1:21), and "shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?" (2:10). But, over time, he seems to turn the focus a bit more on himself, and how he will remain faithful through the tribulations. However, starting in ch.33, Elihu comes along and says, "Dude, Job... hang on, man. It's not about you. It's about God's glory." (paraphrase...)

Of a truth, God will not do wickedly, and the Almighty will not pervert justice. Who gave him charge over the earth, and who laid on him the whole world? If he should set his heart to it and gather to himself his spirit and his breath, all flesh would perish together, and man would return to dust.
-Job 34:12-15

It is good for us to seek the Lord in confusion, doubt, frustration, even sometimes in anger, asking Him why He sovereignly ordains some of the things that He does. It's okay that we don't understand God's will, and it's okay that we run to Him in times of trouble, pressing hard into Him with questions which grieve our souls. But in the end, we have to come to the realization that we're dealing with the Creator of the entire universe, the One who lifts His voice to the clouds, that floods of water may cover the land, and Who can send forth lightnings, which obey His every command (38:34-35). In the end, we have to realize that God is God, and that we are not.

So, I will be praying for my friends. I will be seeking God, asking Him earnestly that He may answer the prayers in the way that I ask them. But, ultimately, I will ask God that His glory may shine forth, and that these situations - no matter their outcome - will turn men and women to Christ, so that the Godhead may be blessed and glorified more fully through these trials. God knows what I don't, and I will trust that this is a good thing.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Jesus and Politics

If we were to remove all of the biblical teaching on caring for the marginalized and the significance of social justice, we would be left with a rather slim book. If we took away the role of stewardship of creation and of cultivating natural resources, Adam and Eve would have been left with very little to do in the Garden. It would be too easy to simply identify Jesus with a political party, to simply put him on the left or on the right. The ethic of the new community demands humble participation, maybe even realizing that the solutions to complex social issues and problems transcends party platforms. The ethic of the new community may demand that - like all things for its members - we recognize that we now see dimly, and not so clearly as those who have put Jesus on the left or on the right would like us to think.

-Stephen J. Nichols, "Jesus: Made in America" (pp. 220-221)

Thursday, October 23, 2008

2 x 2 = 4 ?

What we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty has moved from the organ of ambition. Modesty has settled upon the organ of conviction; where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed. Nowadays the part of a man that a man does assert is exactly the part he ought not to assert - himself. The part he doubts is exactly the part he ought not to doubt - the Divine Reason... The new skeptic is so humble that he doubts if he can even learn... There is a real humility typical of our time; but it so happens that it's practically a more poisonous humility than the wildest prostrations of the ascetic... The old humilty made a man doubtful about his efforts, which might make him work harder. But the new humilty makes a man doubtful about his aims, which makes him stop working altogether... We are on the road to producing a race of man too mentally modest to believe in the multiplication table.

-1908, G. K. Chesterton, "Orthodoxy" (pp. 31-32)

Sunday, July 20, 2008

An addition to Jesus?

Please read this thoughtful and convicting post that my pastor linked in his blog.

Brothers and sisters, it's hard for me to know what is in my own heart. I know that, at this very moment, there is stuff lurking in there that, if I could get even a dim glimpse of it, I would cringe with horror. The closer I draw to Christ, the more I want to cry out with Isaiah, "Woe to me! I am ruined!" The more I understand and grow to love Jesus, the more I understand that what He truly did for me once and for all was something that I could never do for myself.

I believe in the Doctrines of Grace, and I follow the doctrinal convictions that Martin Luther confessed during the reformation of the Church. It is in this sense that I am what may be unfortunately labeled as a "Reformed Christian". But I want to confess to you that what pastor Ortlund is talking about in his post has lurked in my heart from time to time in the past... and may lurk there still. I am sorry, and I would ask for your forgiveness if I have treated you in a way that is not glorifying to Christ, or have made you feel that I have placed a barrier between you and myself because of doctrine.

This is why I no longer discuss doctrine with many. But the times when I cease to put into words how I feel may be the most dangerous, for even if my heart no longer makes itself be heard, it may still grow in silent ways away from a faith that places Christ completely in the center, where only He should be. If my heart is still harboring these thoughts without my knowledge, I am sorry, and I ask that God would graciously continue to refine my heart.

But Christ truly is deeper still, and it is the work and glory of Christ that is at the center of my faith, just as He was at the center of Brother Martin's faith and his reformed view of the Church.

Christ... and nothing else. Amen.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!
-Psalm 34:8

I once heard a wonderful analogy that was an extension of this verse. It was a comparison of the knowledge of God's goodness to the tasting of a cake. If you have tasted a cake, and found that it is wonderfully sweet on your tongue, you may try to explain the experience to others. You may try to explain the taste using the most descriptive words that you can find; you may tell of all of the ingredients that are used to make the cake and that give it its taste; you may even write down the recipe so that someone might be able to understand how the cake is made. However, until another person actually tastes the cake for their self... it is impossible that they will fully understand how good the cake actually is.

God continually allows me to taste more and more of Himself as He grows my faith. He is most certainly good, I can assure of you that. But I can also assure you that He faithfully remains good... even when the particular piece of cake that you are about to eat may not look very appetizing...

The Essence of Humility

Casting your anxieties on God means trusting the promise that he cares for you and has the power and the wisdom to put that care to work in the most glorious way.

That trust is the opposite of pride. It's the essence of humility. It's the confidence that the mighty hand of God is not over you to crush you but to care for you just like the promise says. Don't be proud, but cast your anxieties on him because he will care for you.

Whenever your heart starts to be anxious about the future, preach to your heart and say, "Heart, who do you think you are to be afraid of the future and nullify the promise of God? No, heart, I will not exalt myself with anxiety. I will humble myself in peace and joy as I trust this precious and great promise of God—he cares for me."

-John Piper, "Are You Humble Enough to Be Care-Free?"

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Take my life, Lord

I'm in a coffee shop right now, listening to the hymn "Take My Life and Let It Be", by Frances R. Havergal (1874), on repeat. The lyrics of this hymn are so incredibly powerful for me, because they are at the same time the prayer of the deepest desire of my heart, as well as the desire that I pray that God would give to me: at once, the desire of my heart and the desire for my heart...


Take my life, and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be swift and beautiful for Thee.

Take my voice, and let me sing always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use every power as Thou shalt choose.

Take my will, and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own; it shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself, and I will be ever, only, all for Thee.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Break Time

So, instead of finishing my post on Creation today, I'm going to... well... not finish it today.

I just met with my pastor this morning, and one of the things we talked about was everything that God has been teaching me lately: it has been very encouraging to learn, but a bit discouraging to share.

I've been learning a lot about God in the past year or so, and much of that learning has included understanding certain doctrines as they are laid out in Scripture. This has been a great source of blessing for me, and has led to much joy, because it helps me to focus on who God is, what He has done, and what He has promised that He will do. This causes me to worship Him more, and is a way for me to see more of His glory.

However, as I have shared what I have been learning with other brothers and sisters, I have sometimes been confronted with responses such as, "You're not approaching God with enough of your heart."

At first, I accepted this as being true, and tried to change how I approached God's Word. But the more I think about it, the more I'm not so sure that this is right. I can certainly understand the genuine concern that these people have shown, and I thank them for it. However, I believe that God has made me a certain way, and I believe that He wants to speak to me through these means. He has given me an academic mind, and He continues to give me great blessings as I study His Word as a student. And my heart, in turn, is filled with joy in response to what I learn about God and His acts of grace.

I can appreciate a beautiful sunset as much as the next guy, and I can recognize the creative majesty of God's glory displayed in that sunset. Creation is one of the evidences that we are given of God's existence, and I pray that I will never take any of it for granted. It seems, however, that I don't learn as much about God through these times as when I am searching His Word for truths, be they new and eye-opening, or previously-learned truths that continue to instill more and more joy the longer I contemplate on them.

But that does not mean that learning about God in ways like this (such as through meditation on Creation, for example) cannot happen. Nor does it mean that these ways are not as valid as how I learn about God. There are many people for whom God chooses to speak to them through these means who might not learn as well through approaching Scripture with an academic mind... and that is just fine.

I think what has happened is a mixture of two things. As I try to share the amazing blessings that God has given me, it is hard for me - having been created the way I am - to understand how others cannot have the same level of excitement for these truths as God has been gracious enough to give me, and it may be hard for others - having been created the way they are - to believe that I truly have received the blessings that I believe God has granted me through such academic means.

I think another thing that has happened is that God has recently brought me out of a long period of spiritual depression and darkness. Being brought out of that valley has given me such an intense excitement, that it may come across to others as unhealthy zeal. The truth is that I am just very grateful for what God has been doing, and I am trying to "soak up" as much as possible while I am at the top of the hill, that I might have solid truths of God's faithfulness to take with me when I enter the next valley, whenever that may be... and it is sure that it will be.

I pray that these truths may be an encouragement, rather than a discouragement, to others who may be being lead through their own valleys. And I pray that I would not forget that God is teaching others in different ways than He chooses to teach me, and that these very real testimonies should be encouragement for the rest of us academic types!

Sunday, October 28, 2007

For God, the Just, is satisfied

Hey, fancy that... we sang a song about imputed righteousness during this morning's service. This is an excerpt from "Before the Throne of God Above":
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart;
I know that while in heav'n He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
Because the sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.

Oh, and Happy Reformation Sunday to you all! This Sunday we celebrate the 490th anniversary of Martin Luther's nailing of his 95 Theses on the Power of Indulgences to the doors of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany. Hold up a pint for brother Luther this week!

Friday, October 26, 2007

The Flip Side of the Imputation Coin

Already had two posts on imputation... might as well continue, right? Right.

To fully understand the truth and beauty of imputed righteousness, we need to also understand the flip side of the coin:
Therefore, as through one man's offense judgment came to all men, resulting in condemnation, even so through one Man's righteous act the free gift came to all men, resulting in justification of life. For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so also by one Man's obedience many will be made righteous. (Romans 5:18-19)
There was no need for an atoning sacrifice if there was nothing to atone for! Christ's righteousness was imputed to us only because something else was first imputed to us: sin. This is precisely what original sin is. "Original sin" does not mean that Adam committed the first sin, and that we simply follow in the same path that he did, being born righteous and then choosing unrighteousness. As evidenced here in Romans (and elsewhere), judgment - and through judgment condemnation - came to all men as a result of the offense of one man. This means that just as Christ's obedience was imputed to us, Adam's disobedience was first imputed to us!

And if this somehow seems unfair to us, we need to realize that Adam was a representative for the entire human race. It is presumptuous (and wrong) to assume that we would have done any better in his position! It's as if we were with Adam, in Adam, when he fell for himself, and for us.

I say that knowledge of original sin, imputed to the entire human race, is important for fully understanding imputed righteousness, because if we don't understand that we were dead in our sins when God breathed life into us, then we won't understand the fullness of the grace involved in the gift of imputed righteousness.

I'll end by quoting a session of The White Horse Inn, entitled "A Radical View of Grace", which stresses the importance of imputed sin in the gracious gift of imputed righteousness:

If any part of us is not contaminated by sin, then the grace of God is simply cooperating with that portion that remains uncorrupted, and therefore is not grace.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Lingering Death to the Law

The following excerpt is from a sermon by Ralph Erskine, 18th century Scottish clergyman, on the nature of being dead to the Law (Romans 7:4, Galatians 2:19, etc.):
It is a lingering death. It is not easy to get the law killed; something of a legal disposition remains even in the believer while he is in this world. Many a stroke does self and self- righteousness get, but still it revives again. If he were wholly dead to the law, he would be wholly dead to sin; but so far as the law lives, so far sin lives. They that think they know the gospel well enough, bewray (expose) their ignorance; no man can be too evangelical; it will take all his lifetime to get a legal temper destroyed. Though the believer be delivered from the law, in its commanding and condemning power and authority, or in its rightful power over all that are under it; yet he is not delivered wholly from its usurped power, which takes place many times upon him, while here, through remaining unbelief.
Christianity is sort of the odd child of the world religion family. It is the only one (that I know of) that calls people to do nothing. One of the hardest things for man to do is to do nothing for his own salvation. Passively receiving grace seems to go against something that is deeply entrenched in our "legal temper" as fallen beings.

The beauty of the doctrines of grace is that they emphasize the imputed righteousness of Christ. This means that all that we do, even in our most righteous moments, are but as filthy rags in the sight of God (Isaiah 64:6), who demands perfection for those who are to be in His holy presence, because sin cannot exist in His presence. There is nothing that we can do to merit the mercy of God, because our hearts, tainted by sin, cannot possibly muster up any sort of righteousness which can please Him (Romans 8:8).

What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:24-25)

Graciously, it is the true (and only) righteousness of Jesus, the Holy Lamb of God the Father Almighty, which has been imputed - or ascribed - to His redeemed bride, and when God looks upon us, He no longer sees our filthy rags, but only, and ever, the righteousness of His Son.

What Erskine acknowledges in the above excerpt is that it is exceedingly difficult for us to completely, and continually, accept this imputation, to realize that the pardon for our sins has already been purchased, the price of our redemption already paid, our death already died in our place by Another.

But to forget, ignore, or deny this is to confuse our justification with our sanctification, to blend the two together. Our standing in God's sight is declared as righteous because of the justification that we receive - definitively, once and for all! - upon our salvation. However, this is also the beginning of our sanctification, of God's conforming us to the image of His Son. Unfortunately, since we still live in this world, our sanctification process will not be completed until the Beatific Vision, our perfected glory not fully realized until that magnificent day when we see Christ upon our death or His return.

If we ignore this fact, we may be tempted to become discouraged so greatly upon the recognition of our lingering sinfulness, that we confuse justification with sanctification: that we believe we are no longer seen as righteous in God's eyes if we fail to act righteously. But since it is not our righteousness that matters - our own righteousness being but filthy rags - we can boldly claim our justification by the blood of Christ, and therein find the assurance of our faith and salvation.

It is this aspect of dying to the Law that lingers in us, stressing the importance of proclaiming the gospel not only to the unbelieving masses, but also to ourselves and fellow believers, in a regular - even daily - manner. Don't assume that you've ever fully understood the gospel; instead, preach it to yourself always, dying to the Law, and basking in the beauty of the imputed righteousness of the spotless Lamb of God, ascribed to you by grace through faith.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

A bit more help. Thanks, Mike.

Just read this tonight on my pastor's blog.

God's effectively-powerful sanctification process shown in Peter's denial of His Son. Why? Humility.

How fitting...

Why does the Lord let this happen? Why does he let us go our own way? If he gives us the grace to keep coming back in repentance, why doesn’t he give us the grace to never depart from him again? Because he wants to cure us of the folly of self-reliance. The arrogance of relying on willpower and neglecting prayer for strength to withstand temptation.

Soli Deo gloria.

More confusing ramblings. But less confusing, hopefully.

So... still thinking about this sanctification stuff and discussing the idea with various peeps.

The more I discuss it, though, the more confused I tend to get. Yuck.

Here's a few questions which may help clear things up:


When do we feel more like God is conforming us to the image of His Son? When we aren't struggling with open sins (mind you, the heart is an idol factory, and I'm not claiming that fallen humans can ever not struggle with sin!), or when we are struggling?

When do we feel that the Spirit is doing the most powerful work in our lives? During times of spiritual prosperity or spiritual dryness?

Does God ever purposefully ordain periods of spiritual dryness in our lives in order to make us realize that we are fully reliant upon His grace for everything that we do?

Does God ever do the same with our own sin?


Or should we even make the distinction?


Again, please forgive me if I am working too much off of philosophical nonsense right now. I haven't had the time yet to seriously tackle this question through Scripture, so I'm still at the beginning stages of mulling things over in my own teeny brain.

Thoughts? Is anyone even reading this stuff?

Monday, September 24, 2007

Confusing ramblings on sanctification

Yesterday's sermon was on Romans 8:28.

I'll give the text, so's we's all on the same page:

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.

Pastor Mike asked a question that many ask in response to this verse: What about our sins?

We can see in the following verse (v. 29) that the main "good" that Paul is referring to here is sanctification: "For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son." So, that being the case, how can (no, does!) God work our own sin (a part of all things) for our sanctification?

The answer that Mike gave has had me thinking for the past 24 hours. He said that the primary good that God works through our own sin, which is evil, is humility. God providentially uses our sin to give us knowledge of that sin, so that we may be kept aware of our daily, continual reliance upon His effectively-working grace.

I know, and have known, that God uses our sin to sanctify us, but I wonder exactly how God uses something that is evil to slowly conform us into the image of Someone who is perfectly holy. I guess I always assumed that sin was just a part of the process: you have to first give into sin before God can give you the power to resist sin. Otherwise, what are we being conformed from? But is this really the only way in which a providential and sovereign God can use our evil for our good?

I think that there may be a danger here: in limiting the role of sin in our lives to those acts that we perform (or fail to perform) which are not evidence of our sanctification, we may be losing out on a great blessing... one which may even be one of the primary ways in which God sanctifies us by using that sin.


Okay, this may be getting confusing, so I'll try to simplify the randomness here:

1. What is sanctification?
-Sanctification is the act of God (slowly) conforming us "to the image of His Son".

2. In what ways do we not currently bear - and will not fully bear until the Beatific Vision - this image of the Son?
-Jesus never sinned because He was not a sinner. We choose to sin because we are sinners. God is working in all Christians to give them not only the desire, but the ability, to choose holiness over sin.

3. Is this the only way in which we sin? Is a sin merely an act that we choose to perform?
-When we sin, we are choosing to follow the lie that we are creatures who are not in need of their Creator. Even Jesus, God Himself, realized that He was fully reliant upon His Father (John 5:19), and obedient to His commands (Matt. 26:39, 42).


So, my question is this: what is the primary role of sanctification? Does God work in us primarily to conform us to His Son's ability to turn away from sinful acts? Or does He work in us primarily to reveal to us our complete dependence upon Him?

If we concentrate on this first definition of sanctification, we may ignore the second definition. However it seems that the second definition, which also implies the first, gives us a more complete picture of our creatureliness and of God's holiness. In essence, it moves us away from legalism (but not towards licentiousness!), whereas the first may move us toward it.

Okay, I'm getting into the realm of philosophy and logic, and away from Scripture, so I'm going to shut up now.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Are we but very old sons and daughters?

(This post has much to do with the previous one, but again, I wanted to split them up so as to not make the reading seem too daunting.)

Just as we, as adults, often take for granted the beauty of the created things that fill our lives, things that we brush by everyday without thinking of the completely astounding nature of their very existence, we also often ignore the beauty of monotony.

Again, I quote here G.K. Chesterton, from his work Orthodoxy:

[Children] always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that he has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

I often hear of children who are said to possess short attention spans, but maybe we should ask ourselves if it is, in fact, adults who have this problem. I am apt to wonder if the reason why I took for granted the breathtaking loveliness of the ocean that was so much a part of my daily life was simply that very fact: it was so much a part of my daily life.

I have an addictive nature. Much of this may stem from the fact that there is alcoholism in my family. My grandparents were alcoholics, and my mom, in a wise attempt to break the cycle which is so common to many families, decided to be extremely judicious in her use of alcohol while I was growing up. Nevertheless, I still struggle with alcoholism from time to time, and occasionally need to abstain for a period of time from any alcoholic beverage so that I can judge whether I am experiencing any difficulty with its absence.

That being said, this causes addictive tendencies which I believe stretch to other areas of my life. When I am fixated on something, there is scarcely anything else that I can think of. I have watched stereo equipment, video games, art, photography, relationships, and even theological study (for the sake of knowledge), take over much of my life at one point in time. And yet, no matter how much I get of any one thing, I can never have enough of it (this, by the way, can be a mark of an idol). I cannot seem to find joy in any particular source, and am constantly jumping from one addiction to another.

This is because I have misplaced my source of joy.

God finds joy in the day in, day out, subtleties of controlling the universe. To put it another way, God finds joy in just being God. Have we grown so very much older than our Father, that we can no longer find joy in the things that bring Him joy? Have we lost our child-like nature which allows us to jump up and down at the sight of an amazing act of creation... simply because we've "seen it all before"? Do we look at a sunrise, and say to ourselves, "Oh great... another day to get through"? Or are we rather, in looking at a sunrise, filled with praises for the joy of creation, and say to God, "O Lord! Thank you for this new day that have You given us!"

I pray that our Creator would once again fill us with the "appetite of infancy".

A Child's Heart

(So, this topic will be split into two posts, because I thought that one post would be too long, and that nobody would want to read it!)

This post is not intended to stray from more serious theological matters, to dip into the pool of touchy and feely and cutesy and warm and cuddly (for, though it looks cuddly on the surface, it is of utmost importance); but since I'm looking forward very much to beginning to teach Sunday school for some of the little ones at my church, reading the excerpt for this post struck me more than I think it would otherwise.

Our Lord has revealed in three of the four written gospels (Matthew 18:3-4, 19:14; Mark 10:15; Luke 18:16-17) that we are to enter the kingdom of God as children. But what exactly does this mean? It is clear that this includes, at the least, humbling ourselves as children, not looking to be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:4). But is there more than this that we can gain from looking at the lives of children, and at their response to the world around them?

G.K. Chesteron, in his book Orthodoxy, begins, I believe, to uncover the wonders of the simplicity of a child's world view:

When we are very young children we don't need fairy tales: we only need tales. Mere life is interesting enough. A child of seven is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door and saw a dragon. But a child of three is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door. Boys like romantic tales; but babies like realistic tales - because they find them romantic.... This proves that even nursery tales only echo an almost pre-natal leap of interest and amazement. These tales say that apples are golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found that they were green. They make rivers run with wine only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that they run with water.

How sad it is when we realize that we, as adults (or even as older children), take for granted all of the things that once sparked joy in our young souls!

I have had some small experience of this in my short life. Growing up in Washington state, I was always surrounded by vast mountain ranges, endless valleys and hills blanketed by the green of trees, and more water than I could ever imagine swimming in. These were all aspects which helped make up the whole of my life: they were what I knew of the world. Then a few years ago, I studied in France for a semester; it was the first time that I had ever lived away from water. During spring break, I traveled with a friend throughout Italy. On one of the first nights, we had unloaded our stuff in the hostel room in Sorrento, and decided to take a walk down at the docks.

I will never forget that night.

I could not see the water, because of the dark of night. However, the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves gently lapping up against the rocks sent a feeling through me that made me stop to rejoice in the grand artistry of God's creation.

Since that night, I always try to remember the beauty of water whenever I look at it. Why must I try to remember? Because the feeling that I had in Sorrento that night was a feeling that I had never experienced before, even though I had lived my entire life around water. I try to remember the beauty of the water because if I don't I will take it for granted.

I am making a new resolution. I will try to do the same for all of God's creation as I have chosen to do with water: namely, I will not take it for granted. When I walk by a tree on my way to school, I will think not only of the sovereign process that the Creator has set in place to nourish and grow and sustain this tree, but also of all of the ways that it helps sustain the life of other creatures in this world. When I see a squirrel cross my path as I walk to my office, I will think upon the complex nature of the makeup of this little organism, and of all of the care that God has put into making something so small, a creature that is not even made after His own image.

I pray that God might change not only my heart, that I might have the humbleness of a child, but my eyes as well, that I might be able to be fascinated once again by the marvelous creation that surrounds me every day.