To Him be the glory ;

John 3:30 ~

I had the humbling pleasure of happening upon this verse this morning, and boy, am I ever glad that I did. Let's just say that sometimes, I have this tendency to become so fixated on my own little world, my own desires, my own accomplishments and achievements and self-absorbed musings. I get utterly and hopelessly lost in myself. Indeed, it is our natural inclination as humans to give ourselves the glory, to pat ourselves on the back a tad too heavily or a bit too frequently, and to regard life's towering pedestal as our rightful stomping ground. But just because something is a natural human inclination doesn't necessarily mean it's right. You see, we also have this natural impulse to gossip and this inherent proclivity to worry, but we don't parade around boasting about such things. I mean, when was the last time you talked to someone who said, "I am just such a good gossiper. Wow"? No; that sounds absurd and downright stupid. Yet, we somehow find the boasting, in and of itself, to be perfectly justifiable, to flaunt what we deem as "ours," to say loudly & proudly, "To (insert your name here) be the glory." Because it's only natural, right?

And that is so gosh darn misguided. Now, I'm not saying that we shouldn't be confident human beings. No way; I'm seriously all about that idea of confidence. After all, we are made in the very image of Christ; we're the beauteous workmanships of a perfect, massive, unceasing God. To deny our worth is to deny the worth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. And that is something I am not all about. So yes, be confident. Realize that who you are is absolutely incredible due to whose you are. But for crying out loud, we have got to quit taking all the credit.

Because honestly, we have to give credit where credit is due. And that's in the hands of Jesus. It's not all about us; it's all about Him. Without Him, we are nothing. Because frankly, our Savior is astounding & abounding & confounding. He alone is the reason we have hope; He alone provides refuge in each and every one of life's storms; He alone makes new. And to know Jesus Christ is to want to know Him more. And to want to know Him more is to want others to know Him more, simply due to the fact that He is that great. However, if we're constantly consumed by our own agendas or ensconced in our own greatness, we lose sight of what we're doing. We become greater; He becomes less. And that's no good. After all, we should be so enraptured by the love of our Lord that it almost inevitably spills over, permeates every aspect of our lives. He should play such a fundamental role in each day that we can't help but let His ever-enveloping light shine in everything we do and in every word we say and in every heart we seek to touch. He must become GREATER. I must become less. I must set aside my self-seeking desires and recognize that He alone makes all things possible, and man, am I ever blessed to be able to share His unfathomable goodness with others.

Modesty is the best policy. Give a shout out to God.

Happiness is Here.

Since moving away, I have found myself developing any even greater love for writing letters. Sure; a phone call is grand, and shooting texts here and there can be a beautiful thing, but there is something extraordinary about the concreteness of a letter, the fact that you can physically hold it in your hands and take it all in and smell it and hug it and kiss it and throw it around and perhaps hang it up on your wall. There's something sensational about being able to go back through past letters; there's something so alive about them, and thus I tend to be brought to life in new ways every time I reread a good old letter.

So anyway, back to the point: I am all about writing letters these days. And then the other day as I was penning away to one of my best friends, a funny little idea came to my mind, and I thought, "Hmm. I kind of like that idea." Now letters, in & of themselves, are certainly something to behold, but what if they could be vamped up a little bit, taken to the next level? And that got me thinking. So I've begun this habit where I take a picture of where I am when I'm writing a letter and then I stuff the picture into the envelope right before I send it on its way. For example, when I was putting together my thoughts for this blog post, I was sitting in the sweet grass of the pine grove, reveling in the glorious afternoon sunshine as it sprinkled through the trees overhead. So I snapped a photo of it. Nothing extravagant, just a simple depiction of where I was at the moment, the view from where I sat. And that's what I've begun to do with letters.

It probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense, and even if it does, it may seem pretty dull at best. But here's my thought process. In a way, it's as though you're letting the recipient of your letter into your world, no matter how far apart you may be. It's like saying, "Hey, I like your company so much that I would love it if you could be here with me. And this is about the best I can do for right now." Sure, it takes quite a bit of imagination, but goodness, do I love the sentiment of it all. You see, essentially, you are currently sitting in the pine grove with me on the campus of Hope College, enjoying both a lazy afternoon as well as the quaint happiness that comes from time well-wasted. How cool is that? You're here. And I like that.

Yes, I will forever like the idea of being present, of being fully invested in where you are, of learning to accept that the present is the present. So I thought this would just be another way to invite people to be totally invested in the now. To not just read the words, but to be where the words were created. To meet me where I am. To soak up the moment. To savor the time at hand. And to be happy with the now. To seize it and hold it and cherish it and make the best of it. Be present, be alive, be invested in the current. Because after all, happiness is here.