Monday, June 26, 2006

More than Enough

When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, "I will return to the house I left." When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there.
-Matthew 12: 43-45a

The part of this little anecdote that stands out to me the most is the part where Jesus says that the evil spirit comes back to an empty house. I'd say that's a very bold statement for him to make. Because it assumes that while the evil spirit was inside the body, the person was whole. And by making a vacancy when leaving, the spirit has a place to come home to when it returns.

How often do we recognize sins and try to eliminate them from our lifestyles? You know, break bad habbits. Stop overeating. Kill pornography addictions. Watch foul language. Stop judging people. There's many, I'm sure you know what your vices are. So, when you finally break the habbit--or drive out the demon--what are you using to occupy the now empty space? Are you going to stop overeating by keeping yourself busy? Are you killing pornography by not being on the computer as much? Watching your language by not talking as much? What is your strategy for breaking your habbit? Call me brash, but I doubt it's going to help you put down that 8th beer when you say your memory verse for the day. But yet anyone will say "oh, you have to fill that empty space with God." Let's face it, people--if we even get the space empty in the first place, we fill it with anything we can that will help us forget the original problem. Sometimes not realzing that the new thing might potentially be as dangerous.

Many people argue that while their lives are filled with sin, they don't feel complete. They feel somewhat empty. I'm not going to lie, it's easy to jump right in and say it's because when you're sinning you're seperated from God. And it makes sense. But I don't buy it. And even if you do use more Godly practices to get rid of your sin, I think Jesus was making a point when he said there would be an empty house. I don't think it was a "be careful to not keep your house empty" point, but rather "if something leaves, you're going to have space for it."

That being said, I really do think that it's important to fill holes. Because I think it's important to be complete. And, yes, as cliche as it sounds, I think that the Holy Spirit plays a huge part in helping us to be complete. But I don't think that holes are God-shaped. If they were, they'd be a whole lot easier to fill. We'd know what we needed, and how big to make it. It's easy to fill something to the top, when we know how much we need. But I don't think God works like that. There's no such thing as "just the right amount of God."

Taking sin out of our lives is something that is really important, but whatever we take out is going to leave a hole. And we have to understand that those holes have to be filled, but there's no way of knowing how big they are. They're not God-shaped, and if they were I'd hate to think that the same amount of sin I previously needed is equal to the same amount of God I'm replacing it with. God is bigger. And he is what needs to fill the holes. But since there's no way of knowing how much God to squeeze in there, we just have to strive for nothing less than everything.

No matter how much of whatever I have filling up myself right now, there is still my whole entire life and being that needs to continuously occupied. And for every vacancy I create, I can only either lose weight, or know God more.

Friday, June 02, 2006

On Having a Purpose

There is a vine that is overtaking trees in the south. It's called the Kudzu vine, and in the last ten years it has pretty much been slowly climbing its way over trees all over Tennessee, Georgia and whatever other states are down that way. When I was in high school I learned about it, and how much trouble it was causing. I came home from a trip down south and told my boyfriend about it. He looked at me with a straight face and said, "why is it a problem?"
"Because it's killing the trees," I said.
"But what is the purpose of trees anyway? The plant is still removing carbon dioxide and producing oxygen. Why is it a problem?"
I didn't have an answer. I mean, sure--the vine wasn't as pretty as the trees, but what were they really there for?

Looking back on this now, I'd like to think that there is more to purpose than believing that something else can accomplish it.

What is my purpose? I used to think it was along the lines of teaching. Because I have been given the gift of teaching, it only makes sense that it's my purpose.
But after thinking about it for a while, I could be covered up in sin and still able to teach. I could be dead to God and still teach. Teaching isn't my purpose.

What am I here for that dies when I let sin cover it up?
THAT is my purpose.