A Rejection of Mediocrity

I wrote you a letter
Things could be better
Full of promises, eager hopes and dreams
Did you get it
Have you read it
It talks about you and me
And the future, you see
Something no one can do
Is take the place of you
Can’t you see you’re one of a kind

Child, you’re like a star
Set apart
Set apart from the start of the world
This is your time
Rise and shine
Child, you’re one of a kind

Sometimes everything’s too much
Like the deepest cut
It hurts to be touched
When you hear it
If you feel it
Don’t let it have its way
I’m trying to say
Something no one can do
Is take the place of you
Oh can’t you see you’re one of a kind

Child, you’re like a star
Set apart
Set apart from the start of the world
This is your time
Rise and shine
Child, you’re one of a kind

I know it’s hard to hear promises
When the blue has turned to grey
Nobody said it was easy
But I know you’ll find your way

I would have never thought, just two short months ago, that I’d be where I am today. I couldn’t have imagined it four months ago, or 6 months ago, or 10 months ago.

A year ago, I embarked on a journey that seemed so filled with hope and promise and beauty. I truly fell in love, for the first and only time in my life. And in a combination of foolishness and frustration and confusion and mistakes, I lost the one thing in my life that I hold the dearest.

Should we hold true love dear above our walk with Christ? Of course not. Should it define everything we are? No. Should we give up everything we know in pursuit of it? I think so.

I used to think that stress and depression and worry were things that weak people faced. I didn’t think that any reasonable person would – could – feel this way. But I learned that until you truly care about something, you can’t be hurt by losing it. And once you know what caring really means, you’re able to understand hurt unlike anything you’d ever imagined.

I feel like a man who was awakened from peaceful slumber by a swift, solid punch in the groin. And as if more blows came quickly before I’d even had time to reel.

Should I have been asleep? No. That’s one problem, for sure. “A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and disaster will come upon you swiftly.”

When I originally picked out a name for this blog – years ago – I meant to say “Complacency”, not “Mediocrity”. It turns out that complacency is a worse master than mediocrity. You can have a life that’s far from mediocre, but still fall into complacency without realizing it.

Sometimes the consequences of complacency are deadly. And sometimes, they aren’t – instead, they cut you to the heart and drain you of life until death would be a welcome escape. Until your very existence is limited to a few things that you know that you repeat over and over through sobs.

Words like these never meant as much to me as they do now:

Shall I take from your hand blessings
Yet not welcome any pain
Shall I thank you for days of sunshine
Yet grumble in days of rain

Yesterday, Christmas Eve, my brother wanted to play me in chess. I’m pretty good at chess, as long as I’m not distracted. But I remembered the last time I played chess, and it was too much.

I recklessly threw pieces to my brother left and right – he happily took all the opportunities I gave him. I laid out moves for him with ruthless resolve. Then, right when he thought he was about to win, and my king was all but alone on the board, I savagely made a last move, forcing him to stalemate me.

I felt so ashamed. He just wanted to play a game with his big brother, but I made it a metaphor for my agonized state. Like that king, I’m alone. And any move I make will kill me, but I’m not finished. It’s a painful place to be.

I haven’t stopped caring – I care more than ever. I haven’t stopped loving or hoping. And the odds don’t even matter any more. But that doesn’t make it easy.

All I have is hope and trust in God and love for someone. It’s enough to get me through. But not much more.

God is able to put broken, beautiful hearts back together. He gives grace upon grace. I trust Him.

Merry Christmas.

David

This summer, I tried to learn to play the piano. When I was little, my great-uncle tried to teach me to sight read, but I largely failed in that endeavor. Still, I gained enough familiarity with sheet music that I could sing a printed part, so when I decided to try and learn a few piano pieces this summer, I figured it wouldn’t be too hard.

Boy, was I wrong. Playing the piano is hard. And I can’t do it.  I tried, though. Learned to play a couple of songs relatively well.  Without practice, though, you tend to lose that.

Have you ever taught yourself to play an instrument, but lost the ability due to lack of practice?

One song I (kind of) learned to play was The Gospel Song by Sovereign Grace Music. It’s a really pleasant song.

I was lamenting the fact that the song only has one verse. Someone, who I happen to care a lot about, told me that I should write additional verses to it, but I didn’t think I’d be able to do that. “It’s already so complete.” She insisted that I try…I promised that I would, someday.

So, I did.

Holy God in love became
Perfect Man to bear my blame
On the cross He took my sin
By His death I live again

Wracked with pain, despised and scorned
See the Father’s wrath unfold
Sinless Son, for love destroyed
By His plan, my hope is born

For my sin He bled and died
Conqu’ring what had held me tied
See Him rise, victorious King
By His life, new life I sing

Now in life I serve this King
Life He gave; my life I bring
Judgment I no longer fear
Saved in Christ, my Hope is here

If anyone wants to use these additional verses, feel free to do so. Licensing is as follows.

The Gospel Song Extended by David MacMillan III is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Enjoy!

David

Most people are familiar with Paul’s use of a race as a metaphor for the Christian life in his first letter to the Corinthians:

“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.

And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown.Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air.” 1 Corinthians 9:24-26

How do we run this race with certainty? We know that as long as we live on earth, we have to deal with the effects of our flesh. Paul wrote in Romans that the good he wants to do, he doesn’t do, and the evil he doesn’t want to do, he ends up practicing. We can say we believe in the perseverance of the saints, but what kind of perseverance is it if our lives are being controlled by the flesh? How can we run with certainty when we still struggle with the flesh?

I don’t believe that Paul is merely saying that the certainty is in our ultimate perseverance. We can persevere in the race itself, not just after our life is over. But how?

If anyone knew perseverance in the face of the flesh’s desires, it was David. Here’s what he wrote about sanctification:

“My soul clings to the dust;
Revive me according to Your word.
I have declared my ways, and You answered me;
Teach me Your statutes.
Make me understand the way of Your precepts;
So shall I meditate on Your wonderful works.
My soul melts from heaviness;
Strengthen me according to Your word.
Remove from me the way of lying,
And grant me Your law graciously.
I have chosen the way of truth;
Your judgments I have laid before me.
I cling to Your testimonies;
O Lord, do not put me to shame!
I will run the course of Your commandments,
For You shall enlarge my heart.”
Psalm 119 – Dalet

David knew acutely the hurt that comes when we give way to the flesh. How can a man honor God continually? How can a man run the race with certainty? Because God has promised that He will strengthen us. “I will run the course of Your commandments, for You shall enlarge my heart.” Were it not for God strengthening us, it would be impossible for us to continually grow closer to Him and put off sin. But with God, all things are possible.

Paul writes in Romans 8, “For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by Whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.’” When you are a child of God, He will give you the power to run with certainty.  As we obey Him, He will strengthen us.

It’s a vicious cycle. The more we obey God, the more He strengthens us, and the more we seek to obey Him. Terribly vicious.

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.

For what the law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, on account of sin: He condemned sin in the flesh, that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” Romans 8:1-4

Isn’t it amazing – what God did? Sending Christ to atone for our sins was more than we ever deserved. Imputing His righteousness to us, that we might appear holy and blameless before the Father, was more than we ever deserved. But just as He justified us, He also adopted us and gave us life in the Spirit, that we would even fulfill the righteous requirement of the law through the Spirit, despite still living trapped by the flesh.

What a glorious, true, complete salvation!

Merry Christmas.

David

Snow filters down
Blanketing earth again
Fallen leaves hide
Their pain and doubt obscured
Another year
Passed by in a deep rush

Chilled hearts beat slow
Steady, but soft; struggling
Still echoing
Bygone, sacred tattoos
Strength for each day
Wrought by tomorrow’s hope

But melting snow
Reveals no coming spring
No greenery
Only cold, muddy sod
‘Tis twilight still
Dawn seems so distant now

“Another year”
“Another season passed”
But this season
Doesn’t pass; only lands
This sense of loss
Some things ought to remain

Bright lights and trees
Sing of joy and Christmas
But mud beneath
Distorts the look of peace
Can Christmas come
When treasured love must hide?

Unless a seed
Falls to the ground and dies
It will not bear
A fruit that truly lasts
But this death hurts
Can’t breathe; must break this fall

Under the snow
Dreams still lie, shattered, torn
This cold blanket
Does nothing to move them
Just covering
Hiding the pain for now

Still the earth waits
So frozen in its grief
Angst and questions
Weighing down icy hours
The seeds of spring
Still waiting, still so cold

Such is winter
This season in our life
Though we can’t see
What He’s preparing now
Someday spring’s sun
Will melt the snow: new hope

A summer gone
The fall, marked with longing
Winter with hurt
Spring too distant to see
But light will come
Shine love unrelenting

David

Rebooting

“When, in the course of human events….”

Well, it’s been a while. Blogging has changed, and so has my life. There’s not much that’s really the same.

I know God more intimately. I know the intricacies of love and pain and trials more acutely. I have Twitter. I don’t have Facebook (at least not at present). I’m more libertarian, less easily irritated, and slightly less concerned about how many Congressman it takes to screw in a lightbulb.

I’m quite a bit older – they say that wisdom comes with age, but I suppose the truth of that is still in question. I like new kinds of music and new kinds of food. I occasionally write poetry.

Some things are still the same, though. This blog will be about both: the things that are the same, and the things that are different.

David