Striving

There has been so much, lately, that I have wanted to post... little thoughts here and there, Scripture that has stood out like a frying pan smacked gracefully over the top of my noggin'... passages from books that speak to a part of my soul that only God can move... but the time is the thing that escapes me so readily.  I enjoy writing, yet I do not find myself sitting down at a computer to lay out the various preponderances that glide through my mind on a daily basis.  That would bore the general population, I would gander.

I have been writing a lot, though.  I am writing papers.  I am working as diligently as I am able to finish up this bucket list of books toward my certification as a biblical counselor.  There is an overriding theme, with each book I read, with the more knowledge I acquire--I fall so short of the mark.  Oh, to God were I able to live out all these truths I am learning about... the more thankful I become for the learning curve of life, and the readily available truth of forgiveness in Christ.  Apart from this, I am hopelessly lost in a mire of my own making!

I read a story of animal that had fallen into a well, and there was no hope of rescuing this animal.  So, with a heavy heart, the farmer began to do the most merciful thing he could think of, and end the animal's suffering.  He began to shovel dirt into the well.  My first reaction to this was to recoil in horror--of course it would be better to shoot the animal first, would it not?  Much better than suffocation, one would think.  I continued to read, though.  As they shoveled the dirt into the hole, the animal would fight through the dirt falling on its head and stamp it down to the ground; slowly but surely, the animal beat the dirt down with each shovel full and began to come up out of the hole.  With each trial of dirt thrown upon its head, the animal would struggle through it and continue to climb.  Eventually the animal was able to climb out of the hole and go about its way.  Now, had they shot the animal--it would have indeed died.  It has made me rethink my definition of mercy.  It was NOT the most merciful act, to shoot this animal--had they done so, its fate would have been sealed.  Instead, their method of execution ended up saving its life.  

It made me think.  How often do I view these trials of life that God is intentionally placing into my life as the most cruel form of punishment instead of a method of a loving God to grow me up into His likeness even more?  Had the animal stopped struggling through the dirt being thrown upon its head, it would have died.  The animal didn't give up.  Just because it is hard, it is unfair, it is upsetting, it is anger-making, it is depressing... just because life isn't what you wanted or expected it to be... doesn't mean to stop striving.  It does not mean to stop fighting.  It's what you fight for, though... that makes the difference...

Col 1:28 NASB - We proclaim Him, admonishing every man and teaching every man with all wisdom, so that we may present every man complete in Christ.
Col 1:29 NASB - For this purpose also I labor, striving according to His power, which mightily works within me.