Leviticus Study: Part III

All these sacrifices - offerings to make up for sin - they seem so involved to us, so complicated. But to them, it was simpler than the alternative. He made it easy for them - they understood it as such even if we cannot - and now he makes it easy for us. Jesus died for us - we're set. But we just can't seem to accept it. Something that good - that simple - just can't be true.

"Sinner saved by grace - no more. Once a sinner was saved by grace, now that sinner is a Saint. For condemnation there cannot be for one whom Christ comes dwell in he."

Pissed.

I hate making plans. With a sure and fiery passion. Plans come with expectations and the bigger the plans, the bigger the expectation, and the bigger the let-down when those plans fall through. I honestly don't get it. How often do I make plans? How often do I make a conscious effort to do something for me? So why can't it just all come together? Why does this have to be so difficult? Can't I just want this? Why can't I just want this and why can't I just have this? Is it really so much to ask? And now I feel selfish and now I feel immature and now I just feel like shit.

...

I could be having a bad day. I could be stressed out and overwhelmed and near tears. I could be so tired and despondent that nothing seems worth the effort.
But as long as no one knows, as long as no one can tell, I'll be okay.

Leviticus Study: Part II

Christ cannot live where there is evil. He will not dwell with it.
So what of when we sin? Does he leave us when we sin - when we allow sin in, do we put Christ out? But how can it be?
"I will never leave you." What of this promise?
He taught the early Israelites which offerings to offer when and for what trespasses against God. There were atonement offerings, sin offerings and, oddly enough, guilt offerings. He gave them an offering specifically for guilt. A way to escape that feeling when you're not sure what's wrong, but you have a feeling something is. That still small voice that whispers in your ear to let you know, even if you were unaware of it, somewhere, somehow, you have strayed.
Perhaps Christ is that voice. Of course he is. What I mean is, perhaps he is the guilt we feel that pressures us to force the sin we have - sometimes unwillingly - allowed in, out. Because he cannot live with it, but he has promised never to leave us.

Sin nature:
This seems an oxymoron to me. Sin is one of the most unnatural things there is. Pain. Lust. Deceit. These and other vices are unnatural, but these and all the rest are born of sin.
Sin was never meant to be in this world, just as we were never meant to know pain or suffering. We were meant to live in a paradise where only good things would prosper. Sin was not meant to exist. So how can it - in us - be called natural?

And if our God is so powerful, why has he allowed this? Why has he not abolished sin - made it unavailable to partake of? But then, he gave us a choice in this. He presented the tree to us with simple instructions and man allowed himself to be swayed. And we continue to be swayed by forces that were never meant to be known to us.
It was, is, and ever will be, our choice.

Leviticus Study

Slavery. I find myself contemplating this notion. The Israelites were enslaved for 430 years by the Egyptians before God delivered them. Our belief is that the people of God were delivered from slavery - that we were freed. But what are we to say to those non-believers who see it differently? It could be argued that the Israelites simply switched - were delivered from slavery to the Egyptians and entered into a slavery to God.
Instead of having Egyptians tell them what to do, God tells them.
Instead of being punished or rewarded according to how well they followed some Egyptian's commands, they are punished or rewarded by God.

Our pros are better with God: Do as I say and you will gain eternal life in a Heaven so wonderful you cannot fathom. The best an Egyptian could offer - but almost never would - would be high positions in the courts, wealth and riches - earthly goods that diminish with time.
But the cons are not in God's favor: disobey an Egyptian and recieve a lashing, lose food privileges, have your family taken away. Turn from God and you gain not only death, but lifetime upon lifetime of suffering in a Hell that never ends.
But the master who saved us - the master we have chosen - is one who cares deeply for us. He provides for us, nourishes us, gives us everything we could possibly need in return for our obedience - our continued choosing of him. And not for his benefit. He doesn't simply provide us with just enough to continue doing his work, he allows the good to overflow, allows for no limit, so that we may be free and unburdened to love him.

Maybe that's the difference:masters.
We have been freed from the tyranny of oppressors who would hold us down, hold us back, and give the barest minimum of what was needed to survive. We were freed from this by - and therefore have chosen - a master whose generosity knows no bounds. A master who offers us an eternity we cannot fathom in a Heaven we cannot understand. A Father so harsh as to offer us life or death. A Father so desperate for us to choose life that he sent his only son to take up our flak. He is master and Father to us all.
Jealous and compassionate. Kind and angry. He harbors a vengeful hatred toward the sin of which we partake, but he loves us so that he would none of us perish, no, not one.

This is the master I have chosen.
The one whom I call Father.
The one whom I call King.
The one whom I call God.

This one knows what she wants...just not how to get it.

I want things to go such the opposite of the last go-round. Slower, tamer. Nothing hurried, nothing rushed - but everything slowed down, savored, appreciated.
I've had the relationship filled with frenzy and lust. I've tasted the relationship based solely on physicality and have been left wanting.
I want a slow burn. A passion that rises and falls, pitches and rolls. I want a social relationship as well as a much more demure private one. I want the kind of relationship where it's okay for me to call after a long day and say "Can I just fall asleep in your arms with my head on your chest, please? Would that be okay?" And it would be.
I want the kind of relationship where he feels free to call me after a bad day and say "Babe. I don't want to do anything tonight. I just want you to come over. We can watch a movie or just sit in the dark or whatever. I just need you here." And I would feel comfortable with going.
I want a relationship of passionate comfort. I want to find a companion who is on my path - I wan us to continue our walk together.

Can't take the heat

I have heard it argued that excessive cold is preferable to excessive heat. Some say that in winter you can at least continue layering clothing until you warm up, whereas, in summer, one can only - acceptably - remove so much clothing in effort to cool down; and that even in naught but one's own skin, the heat can still be swelteringly oppressive.
I can understand this notion. It makes perfect, logical sense. Still, I must beg to differ.
Heat - together with the ever-present humidity - is oppressive, sticky, clingy; suffocating, even. Difficult to escape and the cause of much relief come a cool shower or a dip in the pool or entrance to a well-aerated room.
Cold, on the other hand, is sneaky. It creeps up next to you, crawls beneath your skin and seeps into the bones. It takes icy hold of life-giving veins and rasps its rattling breath through your very blood. The cold is patient. It will sidle, and take its vicious hold slowly, imperceptibly, until no amount of clothing, no number of blankets, no amount of hot water or proximity to flame can break its iron grip.
I think I'll take the heat, thank you.