Sunday, August 05, 2007

Reflections on the absence of borrowed words as thought stimuli. The Glory of God's Spirit-Fuelled mind.

I find myself in an odd place of present; for the first time in some years I have no access to my books. After graduating from seminary, my books were packed and remain packed as I'm now awaiting another move to London to start a new job. I find the absence of littered bookshelves, and smoulden-used books daunting and slightly intimidating. The places in which I found solitude, wisdom, and general grace-empowered fuzziness are sitting in boxes in lockup 273 behind an old Hammond organ and several cases of clothes.
But God is good. My Spirit-owned mind is having to solidify its allegiance to God on its own prayer-fuelled searching. I need to stretch it not only through written gifts of inspired implications, but to the first pieces and causes provided usually by the big volumes of Jonathan Edwards, or the pencil-littered pages of John Piper. And I must tell you - the mind, devoid of borrowed words to be used as thought stimuli can be a real treasure chest of goodness and grace.
Now hear me right, I'm not saying the mind of tim gough or of any other human (other than Jesus) is especially gifted or movable...no, far from it; but the mind that is created by, filled with, and depending on God for sustenance is like a showering avalanche of admonishment and edification. Not just thought stimuli, but building and creating and life-changing grace.
So a word to all, who like me, love their books for Spiritual-encouragement. Use them with discretion as tools to receive understanding to more of the promises of life indeed... but do not neglect the power and gentle-grace contained in its own extensions. Sit. Walk. Be quiet. Think prayerfully. Love the prayers of a broad-thought mind. Worship God with all your mind.

Blessings.
t.

1 comment:

tejing said...

This was fascinating to read, because, in contrast to you, much of my spiritual habits, thought structures, and relationship with god itself were built in the solitude (though I was never alone) of my own mind, always concentrating on listening to the spirit as I explored complex ideas, emotional extremes, and my spiritual gifts. Doing this without guidance from within the world seemed like a strange thing, but god guided me and I clung fast to him. While I took it to an extreme, the moral here is this: if we begin to value the guidance presented to us in the world by our fellow believers (never mind the rest of it) to such a degree that we begin to forget about listening to god or do it less, something's very wrong.