I’m out of sorts this morning; impatient with all the little things that usually don’t bother me—such as the temperature of my coffee--and, impatient with the big things that bother me in a more than usual, visceral way. Things like guns and shootings and killings. I’m impatient that it would be easier for me to purchase an assault rifle before 8 AM at a gun store, than a bottle of wine at my supermarket. Blah, blah, blah. You get my point.
What to do about this impatience that has left me out of sorts? It was even a challenge to start this blog entry, but God gave me the wherewithal to meditate, and now enough energy to begin writing.
Last night at The Well, a meditation group at my church, we talked about the ‘Fruit of the Spirit’ in Paul’s letter to the Galatians:
Now the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
Great list but how do I obtain the fruit? Hum, fruit of the spirit. My hope of attaining any comes, not from my own effort, but from the Spirit. Get out of my head and pray for, meditate on, breathe in God’s Spirit. It helps, but I have to keep at it all the time, pray without ceasing as Paul suggests in 1 Thessalonians. This demands a different way of living, living my life for God, not for me. I don’t know if I want to do that all the time.
As I write, I’m ashamed at how I fuss about my petty feelings of impatience. Innocent people were killed in San Bernardino last night, families have been shattered, hopes lost, and here I am, annoyed that my coffee is cold. It’s more than pathetic that I, in my privileged state, find something so petty to be impatient about.
My best hope is to pray that the Spirit fill my heart so I can pray for others and do something out there in the world to make a difference. Faith and works walk together. We can’t have one without the other.
What to do about this impatience that has left me out of sorts? It was even a challenge to start this blog entry, but God gave me the wherewithal to meditate, and now enough energy to begin writing.
Last night at The Well, a meditation group at my church, we talked about the ‘Fruit of the Spirit’ in Paul’s letter to the Galatians:
Now the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
Great list but how do I obtain the fruit? Hum, fruit of the spirit. My hope of attaining any comes, not from my own effort, but from the Spirit. Get out of my head and pray for, meditate on, breathe in God’s Spirit. It helps, but I have to keep at it all the time, pray without ceasing as Paul suggests in 1 Thessalonians. This demands a different way of living, living my life for God, not for me. I don’t know if I want to do that all the time.
As I write, I’m ashamed at how I fuss about my petty feelings of impatience. Innocent people were killed in San Bernardino last night, families have been shattered, hopes lost, and here I am, annoyed that my coffee is cold. It’s more than pathetic that I, in my privileged state, find something so petty to be impatient about.
My best hope is to pray that the Spirit fill my heart so I can pray for others and do something out there in the world to make a difference. Faith and works walk together. We can’t have one without the other.
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