Saturday, July 14, 2007


The Wise and Foolish Builders
Matthew 7 -- 24"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. 26But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."

Jesus must have known more intimately that we can imagine what it meant to be human. We like to glaze over the humanity of our saviour in favour of his Godship. We place him far about the clouds, where we can stand and adore him, and forget that he purposefully came down from that pedestal to understand what it meant to be human.

Thirty years he worked as a carpenter. Building, destroying, planning, hurting. Working in the heat of the sun, enjoying a cool drink of water, hitting himself with a hammer. Sitting down at the end of the day utterly exhausted. Sweaty, dirty, smelly. He was a man, too.

What more this statement must have meant for those listening to him. Jesus, a man that had grown up, talking about the need to build your house on a rock. This was a man (a God-man) who knew what this concept meant, what all it entailed, and why it was so integral to our daily lives.

The Rock. Building our house upon a rock. I'm no builder, but I'd imagine it would be a lot more work to build on that rock. More preparations would have to be made, you'd have to carry heavy loads up the rock so you could assemble them. More effort would have to be asserted to secure the building on it's foundation. It would be a lot of work.

But that rock holds steady in the midst of life storms. No matter what the wind may throw at you, the foundation would cling to your walls and hold it steady. That rock would never move despite all that nature would throw against it.

I'm learning (again) what it means to build my house on this rock. While I wish I could say I only needed to learn something once, and it would be mine for all of time, it is not true. I am but a man, and I find myself relearning the basics far too often. While the winds around me throw their fury against the paper walls I've built, the Rock reminds me where I need to build. It's more work, it's less travelled, but the results are worth it.

When the world shifts around me, and the thunder storms roar, there is a peace deep within my soul. It soothes me when I cry, and it laughs jovially with me in my peace. It listens when uncertainty draws near, and my friends are distant, and it withdraws itself when I begin to take it for granted.

Life is a journey, and there are mountains to be transversed. Remember, however, that your house should always be built upon that Rock.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Moving On

There comes a time in everyone's life when you have to move on. It may be from a relationship, a job, a town, a church, friends or family, but you must move on. A variety of reasons could be influencing your decision, and there may be a momentous backstory that drives you forward. Nonetheless, there is a pulling deep within you that begs you endlessly to stay where you are, to not move on.

Change is never easy.

It is always the easy thing to stay with status quo. "It's good enough," you might say to yourself, and in many ways it very well may be true. But is it the best that you can possibly do? Is this really challenging you, is it's really what's best for you?

These are some of the questions I have been asking myself over the past few months. I poured my heart out into numerous situations, and it didn't pan out. Things didn't go the way I thought they would, and I got burned. That is part of life, you live and you learn.

One thing in particular that I've learned is that you must move on. It's hard, and you fight every ounce in your being, but that clean cut is so important. It allows you to heal, it allows you to grieve, and most importantly it allows you closure. You can reflect, meditate, grow and flourish from that point forward.

Moving on is healthy. It's good. And it hurts.