Hey guys. So I’ve been church-hopping around lately, trying to find a place in London where I can take refuge every Sunday. It’s been tiring, but I’ve had some good conversations with strangers and been blessed beyond what I imagined. There are always moments of familiarity everywhere I go, when I recognize the hymn or passage or the way people introduce themselves. But in between those moments, when I’m taking in the church around me or asking God what I’m supposed to be seeing, I’ve had some neat thoughts about the Lord, so I’m just going to jot them down here, in no particular order. They’re messy, and confusing, and not fully developed, but it was joyful to ponder them. Maybe some of you will enjoy them.

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It’s easy to look at married women and their walk with God and think, “Well of course they’ve got it all figured out. They’ve made it.” But I don’t want that. I don’t want to have to be married before I can fully come to God, as if the secret of closeness with Him is hidden from me until I have a husband. When I say I want God to be my first love, I don’t just mean categorically, I mean chronologically too. I don’t want God to be someone that I come to through someone else. God is not my mutual friend. I know Him because He knew me first. 

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(While looking at the rainbow light on the church walls from the stained glass windows)

The light itself is beautiful. It’s glowing, vibrant, misty, and full of life. But it’s impossible to discern the picture without looking at the window. It[the light] is only there when the sun illuminates and fills it[the window]. Then it is gone, but the picture in the window remains. Am I that light, only illuminated when I am filled with Him, while His perfect picture remains even when I dim? Is my light bright enough?

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Jesus is attractive to everyone, and in infinite ways. Others may not see what I see that draws me to Him, but they will see something, and perhaps something I do not. He’s like a perfect painting; there is no wrong way to discover it’s beauty. You need only stand someone in front of it, and they will see it and get it. The beauty of it will find its way into them, whether or not they can articulate how. The unspoken way in is as much theirs as your route belongs to you, like the secret route home you take every evening. 

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In your spiritual walk as in acting, don’t play the obstacle (getting rid of slander, malice, lust, etc), play the intention (falling more in love with God), and the obstacles will be taken care of. Such a perfect spiritual/theatrical parallel.

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(At a very small but beautiful Anglican church)

When I see the wafts of incense caught by the morning sun through the windows and hear the softly celestial voices of the 4-person, I am overwhelmed and remember that this is a tiny vapor, a whisper of heaven’s glory. While I long for the magnificence and brilliance that the heavenly kingdom will be, I long for its simplicity and humble worship as well. I think God takes equal joy in the blinding glory of the angels’ worship as in our humble, puny human offerings of light and sound. I find His presence, sometimes more starkly, in the quiet as in the orchestra. 

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I bet when Christ returns, it will be to the sound of organs.

But then, it will probably just as likely be to electric guitars.

And pianos. And saxophones and harps and bass drums and piccolos. All that we have will be praising Him. That’s cool.

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That’s it. Perhaps these don’t make sense, but they’re what I’m thinking about lately, so there you go. Have a lovely week.

 

Abigail

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