As children we learn the limits of our world, what is too high, too far, too hard to do. As adults we learn our personal limits, what is too much, too strenous, too time consuming, to costly. But for all of us there are limits we will never learn, the limits of our Savior's love and strength and power.
We test our earthly limits daily, hourly, minute by minute. We are constantly striving to prove them wrong, to get past them, overcome them, destroy them. And in the midst of trying to re-establish our human limits, we forget to test the limits of God or we're afraid too. Afraid to test them because deep inside we know that there are none and there will be no brick wall to come up against and attempt to scale. And when we are reminded that God has no limits, we become painfully aware of our own, but instead of finding comfort in the truth of God's omniscience, we become jealous of His power, jealous because we want to be the ones in control. We want to be the ones who have no limits, who can control, predict, create, continue. Instead of resting in His almightiness, we let it rest upon us like a burden, struggling to understand it, hold it, own it.
If only we could learn that where our limits stop us short, God's limitlessness begins and continues and never ends. And it is in that limitless love and power that we find an anchor, not of our own making nor of our own understanding, but of His. And we find that the less we understand the more we must trust and the more we trust the more we find ourselves floating on the great sea of peace that is fed by the rivers of God.
Perfect peace, perfect rest, perfect limitless God.
It all seemed so simple. Write something, now and then, as often as you like, everyday, just to keep up your skill. It couldn't be that hard. No paper to find. No pencil to sharpen. No pen to run out of ink. No problem.
Then why is there nothing to show for this best of all writing world's. Why does it seem so difficult? Why has no ground been plowed? in a MONTH?
But ground has been plowed and furrows run deep ready for a new planting a new spring, but the work has not been made visible, shared with fellow laborers. It has been pondered, but not planted.
To blog or not to blog, that is often the question and the details of daily existence determine the answer. Too often, it is not to be. But, defaulted promises can be made right. To keep a promise to one's self and others is the noblest of tasks and a blog is a promise to write, to share, to create, to record, to remember - a talent given and unused is a gift discarded or denied.
If you have come in recent days to see what ground has turned, what seeds planted, what fertile soil turned up in huge dark mounds, you have found nothing but frozen dirt, frozen by the cold frost of futile life creeping in to prevent the plow from its honorable task of digging and turning and renewing the earth.
I hereby return my plow to the unturned earth of thoughts unshared and words unwritten, determined that from henceforth it will be a daily task to turn the earth of this plot of mine and discover what there is to write and record and remember.
So I will blog on, not for the sake of blogging alone, but because I must write in order to remember that what has been given must be used or lost.