Sunday, March 21, 2010

i wanna forget how convention fits

There's a comfort in conventionality. Stirring raisins and cinnamon into my oatmeal every morning is a silent way in which I acknowledge that my day will be planned around uniformity--reminiscent in appearance to the day before. I sit on a taut white comforter against bright floral throws and cover my legs with the same knitted blanket I have used for over two years. Even the forest green ceramic bowl I use to hold my warm cereal tells of days past, mornings of stark resemblance to this one.
All that to say, this makes me wonder how much of my life is conventional, housed in by presuppositions that it must be so in order for any semblance of normalcy to be held. But then I analyze that question. How badly do I wish my life to be normal? How strongly do I really desire to fit into the molding of uniformity and adjust to the worldly standards of expectation?
I think of the freedom that the Lord has given us. Complete freedom to move and breathe, yes, but also freedom to roam about this world and release His presence wherever we dare to. A "normal" trip to the store can quickly turn into a wild spiritual adventure, depending on my determination for it to be so.
I want to speak up, touch, give and take from this world. As a body that houses Jesus, I see Him doing that. I see Him doing so much more than I do, thinking that that is how it should be--after all, I'm no Jesus. But what about the words He spoke in saying that we will do greater things than even He did? The power of the Holy Spirit (the same one that resurrected a murdered Christ) is now mine for eternity. There should never be a normal moment with that kind of power embodied in me.
I love oatmeal. I love consistency. I love knowing what's coming next.
But more, I love being pleasantly surprised by the unknown. I love learning how wild and abnormal the Lord I serve is. I love knowing that deep inside me is the potential to be wild and abnormal too. I'm ready. I'm finally admitting it.

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