On Sunday night I went with my brother, Johner (a.k.a. brother Pedro), to his book club.
I made fun of him the entire time preceding because, let's face it, the term book club just sounds gay. I, being incredibly full of grace and love, am always looking for an opportunity to make fun of him because that is what good older sisters do. I also ribbed him because he was the youngest one there, and I might have asked him if they served him graham crackers and apple juice a few times.
Like I said, I am adorable.
Anyways, the "book club" (*stifle snorting laughter*) is not actually a book club per say, it's a Bible study cleverly concealed within a study of a book that analyzes C.S. Lewis, G.K Chesterton and a few other brilliant mind's opinions on humanity. It was great, the man who led it was super cute and about 85, and had a lot of profound things to say. If I lived in Portland, I'd be there every Sunday night.
There were many things said that I felt deeply, but one that stuck out with me that I am slowly digesting. It's sinking in slowly, oozing through the sinksand in my head and I am pulling it apart, piece by piece, hoping that it will become a permanent fixture in myself if I can allow it to.
"God gives in accordance to our capacity to receive."
I know, I know. Anyone who loves Jesus has probably heard this and knows this and you're like "Geez Alysa, you're slow. And shallow. And just not too bright or quick on the uptake."
But it just made me wonder, in all the instances in my life that I feel God not providing, I wonder which ones I am blocking Him in. It's easy for me to see where other people have their hands over their ears and their eyes screwed shut and are doing everything possible to not allow God's hand to work in their lives. It isn't so easy to think that I am doing that. And I wonder how many instances there are in which God is holding out His blessings and gifts, hovering above me, waiting for the opportunity to work in my life, and I have my arms folded and my fists clenched shut. And I wonder if He's saying to me, "You know child, I can and would give all, if only you'd open your arms to receive it."
the most vivid object lesson in my memory of over a thousand that i've seen growing up is one from my 7th grade daily chapel at my tiny Christian school. our principle was speaking that day and he used an umbrella and had us imagine that tons and tons of boxes of presents from heaven were raining down on him but he had his umbrella in the way so none of them got to him. then one would take a lucky bounce off the ground into his lap and he would thank God profusely for His blessings when he really wasn't getting the point that there is so much more God has for us. just thought i'd share :)
ReplyDeleteHmmmm...that is a way of looking at it that I've never heard of before. I like it!
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