This is my endlessly recurrent temptation:  to go down to that Sea (I think St. John of the Cross called God a sea) and there neither dive nor swim nor float, but only dabble and splash, careful not to get out of my depth and holding on to the lifeline which connects me with my things temporal.

     —C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Things temporal is the stuff of life and in that stuff I find safety, pleasure, purpose, identity and help. 

But it doesn’t last.  It is . . . temporal. 

So I strive for more.  And in that striving I allow little time for things eternal. I make no room for God. 

Yet I long for something deeper.  I look to the horizon of the great waters. I exult at its beauty and breadth and mystery—and I shudder too.

Did someone call my name? I step toward the depth and the exhilaration is quickly doused by a cold water concern for my temporal shoes.

They are wet and I am only in ankle deep. I responsibly step back to the eroding shore. It is temporal too.

I am still longing for something . . .

***

Please take five minutes and listen to “The River” by Steve Green. I encountered this song many years ago and its message greatly affected the trajectory of my life.  The lyrics are included below the video.

There's a river ever flowing
Widening, never slowing
And all who wade out in are swept away

When it ends, where it's going
Like the wind no way of knowing
Until we answer the call to risk it all and enter in

The river calls, we can't deny
A step of faith is our reply
We feel the spirit draw us in
The water's swift, we're forced to swim

We're out of control
And we go where he flows

There's a river ever flowing
Widening, never slowing
And all who wade out in are swept away

When it ends, where it's going
Like the wind no way of knowing
Until we answer the call to risk it all and enter in

Danger awaits at every turn
We choose a course, we live and learn
As we surrender to His will
We're at peace but we're seldom still

He is in control
And we go where he flows

There's a river ever flowing
Widening, never slowing
And all who wade out in are swept away

When it ends and where it's going
Like the wind no way of knowing
Until we answer the call to risk it all
Until we answer the call to risk it all

There's a river ever flowing
Widening, never slowing
And all who wade out in are swept away

When it ends and where it's going
Like the wind no way of knowing
Until we answer the call to risk it all
Until we answer the call to risk it all

It's widening, never slowing
Will we answer and risk it all?
There's a river ever flowing, ever flowing
Be swept away

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)

Today is my Mom’s 68^th birthday. When I think about my Mom, I think of the word “love.” There is nothing more powerful than love and its many attributes. It is extravagant, unwavering, all-consuming, loyal, fun, creative, faithful, imaginative and courageous—to name a few. These are some of the words that come to mind when I think about my Mom.  She is one who loves deeply and her friends and family are the benefactors of that love.

I am blessed to have Leona Roberts as my Mom. I thank God for her and celebrate my Mom today.

I just spent the week of Christmas at Disneyland with my wife and my two daughters.  The magic of the place combined with the lights, decorations and songs of Christmas made for a heartwarming and unforgettable experience.

The big crowds, long lines and splash of rain that we encountered at the park served as a mere backdrop to the glittering fun, laughter, smiles and love that we shared together.

Disneyland is a place of light—exciting the rides, adorning the shops, sparkling the castle and glowing on the faces of children and adults alike.

Even the helium filled balloons sold on the street corners of Downtown Disney radiate with light. For a price, you can hold the string and add to the dazzle—at least for a little while.

Unfortunately, just as sparks fly upward, so do amusement park balloons.

“Time flies,” and our moments together in that magical place were over before we knew it.  In the midst of the delight and the fun, the days slipped from our grasp and the vacation was gone—ascending out of reach like a balloon on a string.

My heart aches as that lighted balloon continues to glide up, up, and away. 

But it is not entirely out of sight. Its steady flicker fills and illumines my heart, and in my mind and memory I can see and hear that balloon bobbing and dancing to the hopeful music of Christmas.

In preparation, my family and I watched Episodes I—VI the week before we went to see the new Star Wars movie, “The Force Awakens.”  We entered the theater with our overpriced popcorn in hand, ready to take in the next part of the story. The prep time was worth it—the popcorn. . . not so much. 

Episode VII, “The Force Awakens,” was exciting, cool and fun, and left me with a glimmer of the mystery, wonder and awe that I felt when I watched the first Star Wars movie as an eleven year old in 1977.

The movie had it all—action, suspense, amazing effects, intriguing characters, an engaging story line and humor. I loved it when “Finn,” a new character in the saga, naively responds to an overwhelming dilemma with, “We’ll figure it out, we’ll use the Force!” and the exasperated Han Solo responds, “That’s not how the Force works!”

The “Force” is the thread (the cord) that runs through all of the Star Wars canon.  It is a “character” that is difficult to understand and hard to deny.  It is powerful, life-giving, and vulnerable.  It has ethereal attributes that are both spirit-like and god-like. According to the story, the Force is everywhere, but easily missed—unseen and unrealized by most. The “Force” in the Star Wars saga is the “god-like,” character at the center of the story.

This makes me think of another story—the Story that I am a part of. It is the story where the God and Creator of the Universe loves me (and you) and is with us, for us and in us.  The unseen, the unrealized and the ethereal are dispelled in the One that is all-loving and ever-pursuing, Jesus Christ—my Savior and Lord.

As we embark on this New Year are you feeling alone? Do you feel like God is in “a galaxy far, far away”? I am convinced that we have more at our disposal than Finn’s blind optimism.  We have a reliable thread (a cord) to hang on to and to trust in, and on the other end is the living, loving God. 

Take a look at what C.S. Lewis says about this:

“It is always shocking to meet life where we thought we were alone. ‘Look out!’ we cry, ‘it’s alive’. And therefore this is the very point at which so many draw back—I would have done so myself if I could—and proceed no further with Christianity. An ‘impersonal God’—well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness, inside our own heads—better still. A formless life-force surging through us, a vast power which we can tap—best of all. But God Himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, king, husband—that is quite another matter.  There comes a moment when the children who have been playing at burglars hush suddenly: was that a real footstep in the hall? There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion (‘Man’s search for God!’) suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us?”

                                            —C.S. Lewis, Miracles

Happy New Year!