Minutia of a Happy Girl
I have removed the pins from an elaborate hairdo that I did for church this morning, and my hair is now, even damp and curly, growing past my shoulders. By the time I get back to PHC, I expect it will be half-way down my back. This makes me happy.
I heard a really deep sermon this morning, the sort that will take me all summer to apply, and I can't wait to start. This makes me happy.
I worshipped beside Danya in church this morning, adoring God in the same row with my grandparents, parents, a cousin, and my five siblings. All around me there were people who love their Savior. This makes me happy.
I am experiencing all kinds of conviction. It seems that one never knows how selfish, self-centered, proud, arrogant, impatient, control-loving, and ungracious one is until one has come home for the summer. I am grieved, but hopeful, and eager to grow. This great salvation which promises me that I shall someday be like Him makes me happy.
I have a sweet, wise, and godly mother, whose life is a constant example of selfless service and loving grace. I have two blonde, green-eyed, gorgeous and darling little sisters. I have dear girlfriends here at home who challenge and provoke me, who pray for me and show me my sin. I have my princely brothers and kingly father and the very emperor of grandfathers (really, who needs guy friends when at home?). All this makes me happy.
Auntie has promised me about 30 more leatherbound books from her Florida collection, and, since she is moving, she has given me several beautiful pieces of furniture and some splendid books, among them Spurgeon's sermon notes, and a set of four colored goblets. I have always been a fool for glassware, ever since I found a crystal goblet in an old attic as a seven-year-old... but that's another story. My medieval sensibilities have been sent into a joyous overload by this same generous and wonderful aunt, and it is so very much the grace of God, for among all this she is giving me things which I would otherwise have had to buy for the dorm room in the fall. This makes me happy, insofar as "stuff" or "mere material matter" can make anybody truly happy. Her love certainly makes me happy.
In short, I am blessed beyond... beyond... well, I'll misquote Dante. I am blessed beyond "what sense and memory have the vocabulary to express." All the stuff and relationships and deep conversations in the world would not make me happy, had I not the Lord. Having the Lord, all the rest is only gladness upon gladness known before. My restless heart is truly at rest in him, and if you were to strip away all else, even to fulfilling my nightmares and causing the death of each family member or friend, my best beloved would still be more than enough for me. Enough is too small a word to speak the vastness of God. Does it not strike you as strange and loveliest of lovely that the very one from whom we needed to be saved is the one who has saved us? I'm saved. My home is Aslan's country. I've come out of the cave, and I stand dazzled in sunlight.
Enough? Oh, Domine, it were to demean the riches of your love to call them "enough" for my wandering heart. Thou prone to wander and leave the God I love, that love which I so easily lay aside to chase some new toy is infinite in scope and tenderness. Make me evermore sensitive to this truth, my Lord, and make me joyful, as I am now happy in your grace. I want to believe; help my unbelief. I want to love; help my selfish self. Suffuse me in your radiance, and I want nothing more.
I heard a really deep sermon this morning, the sort that will take me all summer to apply, and I can't wait to start. This makes me happy.
I worshipped beside Danya in church this morning, adoring God in the same row with my grandparents, parents, a cousin, and my five siblings. All around me there were people who love their Savior. This makes me happy.
I am experiencing all kinds of conviction. It seems that one never knows how selfish, self-centered, proud, arrogant, impatient, control-loving, and ungracious one is until one has come home for the summer. I am grieved, but hopeful, and eager to grow. This great salvation which promises me that I shall someday be like Him makes me happy.
I have a sweet, wise, and godly mother, whose life is a constant example of selfless service and loving grace. I have two blonde, green-eyed, gorgeous and darling little sisters. I have dear girlfriends here at home who challenge and provoke me, who pray for me and show me my sin. I have my princely brothers and kingly father and the very emperor of grandfathers (really, who needs guy friends when at home?). All this makes me happy.
Auntie has promised me about 30 more leatherbound books from her Florida collection, and, since she is moving, she has given me several beautiful pieces of furniture and some splendid books, among them Spurgeon's sermon notes, and a set of four colored goblets. I have always been a fool for glassware, ever since I found a crystal goblet in an old attic as a seven-year-old... but that's another story. My medieval sensibilities have been sent into a joyous overload by this same generous and wonderful aunt, and it is so very much the grace of God, for among all this she is giving me things which I would otherwise have had to buy for the dorm room in the fall. This makes me happy, insofar as "stuff" or "mere material matter" can make anybody truly happy. Her love certainly makes me happy.
In short, I am blessed beyond... beyond... well, I'll misquote Dante. I am blessed beyond "what sense and memory have the vocabulary to express." All the stuff and relationships and deep conversations in the world would not make me happy, had I not the Lord. Having the Lord, all the rest is only gladness upon gladness known before. My restless heart is truly at rest in him, and if you were to strip away all else, even to fulfilling my nightmares and causing the death of each family member or friend, my best beloved would still be more than enough for me. Enough is too small a word to speak the vastness of God. Does it not strike you as strange and loveliest of lovely that the very one from whom we needed to be saved is the one who has saved us? I'm saved. My home is Aslan's country. I've come out of the cave, and I stand dazzled in sunlight.
Enough? Oh, Domine, it were to demean the riches of your love to call them "enough" for my wandering heart. Thou prone to wander and leave the God I love, that love which I so easily lay aside to chase some new toy is infinite in scope and tenderness. Make me evermore sensitive to this truth, my Lord, and make me joyful, as I am now happy in your grace. I want to believe; help my unbelief. I want to love; help my selfish self. Suffuse me in your radiance, and I want nothing more.
posted by Praelucor at 7:25 PM
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