octolilly [through the years]

While pouring over I Peter this afternoon, I focused on 1:6 and 4:10. And I found a fascinating discovery that “manifold” can be translated “many colored.”

I think of each of us would be willing to admit that we have manifold temptations. Our day seems to barely have begun when we begin The War. The putting off and putting on requires more strength than we can muster at times. That which seems beautiful always has a tainted edge and the chorus of life always seems to carry a minor key as well. The many temptations are brightly colored and our inner struggle is sometimes not just fighting against the package itself but fighting against the lust for something we can’t have.

Those among us who wear a façade, pretending all the while that their life holds no struggles, don’t be fooled. We do have an Enemy. A Villain. He aches to seize everything that belongs to God, including the worship of all those whom God loves.

T.S. Eliot said, The great snake lies ever half awake, at the bottom of the pit of the world, until he awakens in hunger.

This Villain’s daily harassment brings those manifold temptations in waves and waves and waves.

Perhaps some of the Villain’s lure seems but a shade of grey, easily excusable, and quite possibly one of those “permissible but not beneficial” circumstances. Do we give in anyway? Falling flat on our face? Or maybe we are selling out for the rich shades of red. The more passionate, seemingly fulfilling, and dangerous enticements.

But how amazing and comforting it is to realize that for every colored temptation that is sent our way, and for each time we fail, there are innumerable colors of grace.

Caedmon’s Call wrote that our faith is like shifting sand. Changed by every wave. Where do we find ourselves? Standing on grace.

I have no idea what tomorrow holds. The Battle may reach a fevered pitch and I may feel as though one more wave will simply wash me ashore.

But the many colors of grace will cover me.

While at a little shop in the mountains the other week, I sat down on the porch to do some serious people watching. It wasn’t the thickly tattooed artwork on display or the 2,000+ Harley’s parked across the street that kept my eye. It was a small boy squatting on the steps. He kept leaning down to smash his hands on the rough wood and yet I couldn’t see that he was actually smashing anything.

His mother, hearing his smacking, walked over and asked what he was doing.

“Catching lots of bugs!”

It was obvious that there weren’t any bugs in his little cage and so his mom leaned a bit closer to him and whispered, “I don’t see anything, sweetie.”

“You probably can’t, Mommy. But I can see them everywhere.”

~

In a very odd little way, I feel like that boy.

I had been planning on waiting a bit longer to return to Aelki. In fact, I was aiming for The New Year. There were quite a bit of things I wanted to get in order.

But the small amount of time that I have been away has been invaluable. And since the reason for writing here is to chronicle my journey, I think I am ready to write again.

It’s been amazing, really. So many of my quiet heart-felt prayers have been answered in the past month. And for some people, they probably can’t see much going on in my life. Maybe they even wonder if God has been around.

But I keep seeing His fingerprints everywhere.