This week is a busy one, but over the past few days I have discovered this passage with new eyes. This passage is an answer to my post, "Hungry."
Psalm 107: 4-9
4 Some wandered in desert wastelands,
finding no way to a city where they could settle.
5 They were hungry and thirsty,
and their lives ebbed away.
6 Then they cried out to the LORD in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
7 He led them by a straight way
to a city where they could settle.
8 Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind,
9 for he satisfies the thirsty
and fills the hungry with good things
Amen.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Expression
This semester, I'm taking an Intro to Fine Arts course. Though my mind is often immersed in the practice of logic, reasoning, and problem solving due to hours of organic chemistry and anatomy & physiology, I am discovering the other side of my brain (I'm convinced right brain powers are employed heavily in organic, but that's beside the point). I'm starting to see the possibilities within this new world. I'm beginning to understand the emotion and understanding- the profound mode of expression that is a work of art.
Last week, our class took an across campus field trip to the art gallery. The event inspired the expectation of amusement, but I came away with much more. When I first entered the gallery, I glanced at the works hanging on the walls. I had never took the time to enter the gallery before, despite walking by countless times in nearly two years. On that note, I crossed the threshold, with a touch sheepishness. After a general assessment of the room, a large, predominantly cerulean painting captured my attention. Drawing closer, I noticed a few chemical elements featured in the various hues. A closer look, and I recognized them as the noble gases. My interest was piqued. The title of the work? "Elemental Nobility."
I stood blankly for a moment.
Art and science?
The thought had crossed my mind before, but this time it stayed. A discipline of logic and hard-learned facts coupled with... this? Unbeknownst to the casual observer. This painting was making a statement, and I understood it. Not necessarily the association the artist intended, but something far more profound impressed my mind. Art is the expression of the self that lies beneath. Art is the thoughts and emotions which have no voice. They exist as shifting, undefinable forces. Sometimes I sit down with my guitar and these forces find their voice. However, lately, this approach has proved ineffective. When I know so little about what I am trying to express, thoughts and words fail to formulate. Still, the urge to create presses from inside.
For years, I have left my paints untouched. Although I enjoyed discovering the art when I was younger, my pursuit of perfectionism and somewhat unfounded dedication to time-effectiveness caused me to abandon any attempts at renewing my interest. After last week, these thoughts have continued to return to me. Just because I spent my evening contemplating the aromatic characteristics of heterocyclic compounds doesn't mean no capacity for creativity exists in my brain. With this idea that art can be an expression of the heart and mind, art seems very different. Maybe in time, art can become the medium that allows my own musings to take form, to speak, and blessedly, to escape. The idea is still outside my comfort zone, but I'm ready to try.
Last week, our class took an across campus field trip to the art gallery. The event inspired the expectation of amusement, but I came away with much more. When I first entered the gallery, I glanced at the works hanging on the walls. I had never took the time to enter the gallery before, despite walking by countless times in nearly two years. On that note, I crossed the threshold, with a touch sheepishness. After a general assessment of the room, a large, predominantly cerulean painting captured my attention. Drawing closer, I noticed a few chemical elements featured in the various hues. A closer look, and I recognized them as the noble gases. My interest was piqued. The title of the work? "Elemental Nobility."
I stood blankly for a moment.
 |
| "Elemental Nobility" - John Payne http://www.artbyjohnlpayne.blogspot.com/2011/02/elemental-nobility.html |
Art and science?
The thought had crossed my mind before, but this time it stayed. A discipline of logic and hard-learned facts coupled with... this? Unbeknownst to the casual observer. This painting was making a statement, and I understood it. Not necessarily the association the artist intended, but something far more profound impressed my mind. Art is the expression of the self that lies beneath. Art is the thoughts and emotions which have no voice. They exist as shifting, undefinable forces. Sometimes I sit down with my guitar and these forces find their voice. However, lately, this approach has proved ineffective. When I know so little about what I am trying to express, thoughts and words fail to formulate. Still, the urge to create presses from inside.
For years, I have left my paints untouched. Although I enjoyed discovering the art when I was younger, my pursuit of perfectionism and somewhat unfounded dedication to time-effectiveness caused me to abandon any attempts at renewing my interest. After last week, these thoughts have continued to return to me. Just because I spent my evening contemplating the aromatic characteristics of heterocyclic compounds doesn't mean no capacity for creativity exists in my brain. With this idea that art can be an expression of the heart and mind, art seems very different. Maybe in time, art can become the medium that allows my own musings to take form, to speak, and blessedly, to escape. The idea is still outside my comfort zone, but I'm ready to try.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Hungry
A recent lesson from my walk is contentment. There are many things I am inexpressibly thankful for: salvation, my family, my education, my friends, the country I live in. However, I often find myself dissatisfied with my circumstances. With overwhelming tenacity, my mind seems to focus on the things I lack. In the face of my greatest blessing, a close, personal relationship with my Lord, I have frequently found myself full of complaints. "Why hasn't this happened for me yet?" I wonder. "Why is life so difficult?"
In this predicament, my fault seems glaringly obvious and my questions are exposed as silly and frivolous.
God is sovereign. The knowledge that my present circumstances are His will is enough. Like Job discovered, He answers with His character.
Yet, I find myelf asking those silly, frivolous questions again and again. And frustrated by my failure.
Over the past several months, Elisabeth Elliot has deeply impacted me with her wisdom and insight. I deeply admire her perspective and dedication to Christ. Her works have become part of my nightly routine. One particular evening, I read a chapter titled, "Help Me Not to Want So Much." Elisabeth is commenting on the struggles of living with unfulfilled desires.
Whatever the desire may be, for meaningful work, family, friendship, good, worthy things, there are sometimes when He chooses not to give us these gifts we hunger after.
Why God seems to leave us with these "hunger pains"?
This question has inhabited the forefront of my mind for months. I was trying to live and trust in His sovereignty, but longing for an answer. And He gave it to me in this statement:
"While they craved for the food they had in Egypt, God gave them manna. Manna was supernatural food, miraculously provided, and it was all they needed. But even a miracle did not stop the wanting of leeks, onions, garlic, watermelons, and fish. If He had given them what they naturally craved, they would never have learned to ear manna, they would never have acquired a taste for the bread which came down from heaven. God made them hungry on purpose - in order to humble and test them, to discover whether it was in their hearts to obey Him, and to teach them what was far more important that leeks and onions: that man does not live by those thing alone, but by the Word of the Lord... He harrows our souls, making us long for something we cannot have, in order to reveal to us what He wants us to have, which in the long run is far better."
- Elisabeth Elliot, The Path of Loneliness, "Help Me Not to Want So Much"
By allowing us to grapple with things we wish for but can't have, He teaches us to satisfy ourselves with continual trust and surrender to His will. I'm learning this lesson. I'm in a process. There are still things I wish for, things I pray desperately for, but my satisfaction doesn't lie with the fulfillment of earthly desires. He is teaching me to hide myself in Him with a closeness and intimacy I never could achieve otherwise. In this light, the lessons don't seem quite as difficult.
And suddenly, hunger seems palatable.
In this predicament, my fault seems glaringly obvious and my questions are exposed as silly and frivolous.
God is sovereign. The knowledge that my present circumstances are His will is enough. Like Job discovered, He answers with His character.
Yet, I find myelf asking those silly, frivolous questions again and again. And frustrated by my failure.
Over the past several months, Elisabeth Elliot has deeply impacted me with her wisdom and insight. I deeply admire her perspective and dedication to Christ. Her works have become part of my nightly routine. One particular evening, I read a chapter titled, "Help Me Not to Want So Much." Elisabeth is commenting on the struggles of living with unfulfilled desires.
Whatever the desire may be, for meaningful work, family, friendship, good, worthy things, there are sometimes when He chooses not to give us these gifts we hunger after.
Why God seems to leave us with these "hunger pains"?
This question has inhabited the forefront of my mind for months. I was trying to live and trust in His sovereignty, but longing for an answer. And He gave it to me in this statement:
"While they craved for the food they had in Egypt, God gave them manna. Manna was supernatural food, miraculously provided, and it was all they needed. But even a miracle did not stop the wanting of leeks, onions, garlic, watermelons, and fish. If He had given them what they naturally craved, they would never have learned to ear manna, they would never have acquired a taste for the bread which came down from heaven. God made them hungry on purpose - in order to humble and test them, to discover whether it was in their hearts to obey Him, and to teach them what was far more important that leeks and onions: that man does not live by those thing alone, but by the Word of the Lord... He harrows our souls, making us long for something we cannot have, in order to reveal to us what He wants us to have, which in the long run is far better."
- Elisabeth Elliot, The Path of Loneliness, "Help Me Not to Want So Much"
By allowing us to grapple with things we wish for but can't have, He teaches us to satisfy ourselves with continual trust and surrender to His will. I'm learning this lesson. I'm in a process. There are still things I wish for, things I pray desperately for, but my satisfaction doesn't lie with the fulfillment of earthly desires. He is teaching me to hide myself in Him with a closeness and intimacy I never could achieve otherwise. In this light, the lessons don't seem quite as difficult.
And suddenly, hunger seems palatable.
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