from the anchor

I've been striving to save up lots of money for my future move to Wisconsin, living "by the bone" as it were, paying my bills and only putting money towards necessities (gas, groceries, etc.). It's been difficult, but I'm learning good lessons in frugality and contentment. Our culture's steeped in a craving for entertainment, and contentment is hard to find: we seek to "fill life" with background noise, and we try to enjoy life by having things. When I moved to the Hobbit Hole, I decided to get rid of my TV for several reasons, not least because it was big and bulky and a hassle for me to lug up the steps. One of the main reasons, however, was more utilitarian: a desire for a simplistic life. When I used to spend my free time filled with entertainment, I decided instead to use my free time to nourish my knowledge by reading, and to cultivate my intimacy with God through the spiritual disciplines.

When I was in high school, I had a genuine desire to become a monk. I had conversations with several people whom I would consider mentors, and after wrestling with the idea for nearly a year, I decided instead to go to college. I look back on those high school days when I was constantly hurrying between work, church, school, and hanging out with friends; in my downtime, I wasn't watching TV but practicing the "inward disciplines" of prayer and meditation. Perusing my journals from those days, I can remember the joy and peace found in the midst of the usual trials of high school life, which were real trials even if they seem trivial in hindsight (no trial is trivial in the moment). My goal since moving to the Hobbit Hole has been to fill my life with spiritual disciplines, and months ago I created a schedule for daily meditation and prayer. Do I always stick to it? No. Have I been as persistent as I should be? No. But I've found myself praying more and meditating more, and the result has been an enriched life in so many ways.

Making a schedule for such things may seem strange, especially since we live in a culture that all but worships spontaneity and "authenticity." Spontaneity is a wonderful thing, an exercise of freedom and listening to the rhythms of the heart, but if life is lived according to the "rule of spontaneity," there will invariably be a lack of growth and forward movement, except during those times when growth and forward movement happens to be the greatest desire of the heart. The clamor of authenticity, the desire to be "real," has had an effect on the western church, to the point that many of us (for example) don't pray unless we "feel like it," unless prayer happens to be our greatest desire at that moment. Shouldn't prayer be from the heart, after all? The idea is that prayer is genuine and profitable only if it's what we want most at that time, or if we experience some sort of "warm" feeling in our praise, our thanksgiving, our petitions. If we are praising God but our heart feels dry, is the prayer any less real? Those who worship spontaneity and "authenticity" would argue yes. What I've found, however, is that though prayer is indeed "dry" most of the time, the more "dry" prayers I have, the more often the "euphoric" and "warm" prayers are found. 

But why make a schedule for these things at all?

Why pursue spiritual disciplines with such eagerness?

Several reasons!

(1) It enables us to find contentment, sustenance, and joy not in worldly things or in entertainment, but in Christ.

(2) Spiritual disciplines cultivate the Spirit within us--or, rather, through the disciplines, the Spirit cultivates us. We are plots of earth to be tilled. Weeds need to be uprooted and wheat must be planted. By practicing the disciplines, we make room for the Spirit to bring his hoe into the dirt and muck of our lives so that we bear fruit rather than thistles and weeds.

There are two more reasons that are specific to me rather than general for all Christians:

(3) As I've been moving back towards a desire, if not a calling, in ministry, I've been reminded again and again through prayer and meditation that what matters most isn't being suave or cool but cultivating a growing dependence on Christ and conformity to him. Ministry isn't about programs, events, or clever speeches. Ministry is proclaiming the gospel, being an ambassador and herald of Christ, exposing ignorance and hard-heartedness, calling people to submit to their true Lord and to find in death to self true life. Such a proclamation mustn't consist in the programs we participate in or the words that come out of our mouths, but in our own submission to Christ and our own experience of finding our true selves in him. 

(4) As things with Mandy are progressing, my desire and calling to lead Mandy as my future wife, and to lead our future children, makes my continuing maturity as a Christian and conformity to Christ of primary importance. To lead and love like Christ, I must be more and more like Christ. It will be my job to stand against culture and against the corruptions of the world for her and for our children. It will be MY responsibility to hack away all the vines and entanglements of the world so that she and our children will have a clear path.

My coffee's cold and my laptop's dying. And I'm pretty sure Mom will lose it when she sees how much data I've used using my hotspot. So now is a good time to bring this post to an end. Farewell... for now. #ttyl.