The luxury of silence

One of the comments from my "Saturday night services" post really surprised me. Mark said, "keep blogging Jennifer, we need your voice." The reason this comment stuck out to me was that this issue of using my voice, was exactly what I was wrestling with God about. Two of my mentors have also spoken specifically into my life in the last few weeks about this, affirming the need for me to use my voice.
At another point in my life, with that kind of encouragement, I wouldn't have hesitated to inflict my voice on others. At this point though, I am a bit more realistic about what I have to offer. Sometimes there is wisdom in what I have to say, and sometimes people do benefit. At other times, I make a fool of myself, and say exactly the wrong thing. Choosing to use my voice means simply to use it, releasing control of when or if it is valuable. When I hold tightly to control how I speak and present myself, what I say loses its value. It becomes a sermon, rather than a sharing of a broken life with which others can identify.
It is a little less than reassuring to move forward with this knowing that the calling to use my voice, like life in general, is messy. Sometimes I would rather stay silent. In silence, I can avoid the kind of self-disclosure that exposes my weaknesses. My calling is not to be wiser or smarter than anyone else; it is to live an authentic and transparent life. I'd much prefer the luxury of the facade. I'd love to speak only when words of profound wisdom well up inside and roll off my tongue (or fingers, as I type). Such luxury however, is not mine, and so here I am. Messy, complicated, ironic, hopeful, and occasionally wise.

Self-indulgence and disillusionment

I bought a Keith Urban cd today. I bought it for the same reason that I rented my favourite romantic comedy last week: I'm avoiding the indulgence of bitterness and disillusionment. I've shared with some recently that I don't believe in romance. Of course I know what I am supposed to believe; I'm talking about what I actually believe, or in this case, don't.
I'm not so self-absorbed as to believe that it doesn't exist at all. My parents aren't faking. After nearly thirty years of marriage, and having faced a number of challenges together, they've built a relationship that is beautiful to see. Many of my friends are also in relationships that are a joy to behold. For my single friends, I have endless hope that love is around the corner for them. For myself though, I just don't believe it.
Of course I hope I'm wrong. That's why I'm listening to Keith Urban today, and refusing to indulge in a bitterness that will build impenetrable walls. Maybe someday I'll find out that I'm wrong. In the mean-time, there's a lot to enjoy in life.

The Uncensored Version

I woke this morning with the certainty that someone was praying for me. It's a nice way to start the day. I had gone to sleep amidst angry prayers, and woke to the warmth of being enveloped in the love of Jesus. I wish words could do justice to the experience of God in life, but they can paint only the smallest picture with which to identify.
I'm glad to be honest with you all about my life, and my faith. My life is an open book to my close friends, and that's how it is with God as well. Obviously He knows me better than I know myself, but I still tell Him everything. It means a lot to me to be able to be honest with God in my prayers. I share a lot with my closest friends, but God gets the uncensored version. (My friends are shuddering right now... there is an uncensored version??) It occurred to me this morning what a brat I am with God sometimes. I let loose on Him a lot more than with anyone else. That's the reality. Should I feel ashamed of that, or try to clean it up?
I think it is kind of like how we are with family. The closest people in my life are those who have fought with me. They've seen the worst sides of me, and still accept me. I often say that I can't be really close with someone if we have never fought.
This is not to excuse my being bratty with the Creator of the Universe. I'm wrong of course, every time. I won't contest that. I am thankful though, that He gives me the freedom to be myself around Him. I can be honest, and be my bratty self with Him, and He accepts me unconditionally. Until I am faced with contrast, I didn't realize how hard I try to please people. Until being totally free in one relationship, I didn't realize how much I work at being likeable, and unoffensive to the people around me. It's freeing really, to have a place where I don't have to worry about being "too much" for the other party in the relationship. With God, I never need to fear that I will ask too much. I will never be too needy. He will never be disgusted with my weakness. He'll never stop to re-evaluate whether I am worth the effort of relationship. He will never be shocked and horrified by what He sees in me. He knows me. He loves me. He is at work in me, refining me, teaching me what it means to live my life in Him, letting Him love people through me. I'm a brat, but I don't have Him wrapped around my finger. He lays clear boundaries that give me security. He always chooses what is best for me, though I don't always understand it. I rail at Him, cry to Him, and lean on Him, and in the end I know I am safe with Him. The weight of the world that I carry on my shoulders is lifted by Him.
I know some people call religion a crutch. I don't know about "religion", but I know that I find life in my relationship with God. Pass me the crutches- my legs are broken anyway!

Pioneers blog

Ok, we've taken the plunge.

The organizational blog I talked about before is launched. I now have my personal blog here, and my Pioneers blog. If you're interested, you can see it here.

It's going to take me a bit to get into the flow of it. I'm nervous, and excited about it at the same time.

Saturday night services

I used to go to North Park by myself for Saturday night church services. Occasionally I'd go with a friend, but most often by myself. It was often a very lonely experience, as I never seemed able to connect with people my age. I'd go in by myself, sit among strangers and enjoy the service, then go home.

Now I know a lot more people, and I get plenty of good heart-to-heart fellowship with other believers... but the church service is not where that happens. The service for me is often a place where the heaviest things on my heart reveal themselves, urged to silence no longer. I sit or stand there during the extended worship time after the message, and just talk to God, wrestle with Him, and cry out to Him, all the while being reminded of truth through the worship songs.

Tonight I went to church with a friend, and as I sat there, blinking back tears, and trying to keep my lip from quivering noticeably, I remembered why it was convenient to go alone. :)

I don't want people to see me crying, but I don't want to pretend I'm stronger than I am. I wasn't crying noble tears tonight because I was moved and inspired by the worship. I was crying because amidst all the songs about surrender, I most certainly did not want to surrender. How's that for an admission? :) I have a sense of what He is asking of me, and I don't want it. I want Him to see that it costs too much, to see that I am too weary, and He should ask someone else.

He'll win of course. Not because He'll force me, but because I can't imagine living another way. I feel like Moses right now, at the burning bush, telling God that He's got it wrong. The youthful enthusiasm that once drove me has faded and dried up: I'm only 26, how can this be? Now I'd be content to live in the wilderness, with the simplicity of a life looking after some goats or sheep.

I'll choose Him... because in my heart I want Him. For tonight though, I couldn't just sing words that my heart wasn't in. For tonight, I'm still wrestling it through with Him. I know I'm being bratty, but really it's trust in Him that frees me to ask Him any question, confident that He'll have an answer. The process is just a bit painful sometimes.

Blogging pressure

I've been trying to figure out why I am so terrible at blogging these past 6 months or so. I know it's pretty normal for bloggers to fizzle out after a while, losing interest and enthusiasm... but that's not quite it. I still have a lot to say, and a strong desire to write. My life, as usual, provides plenty of fodder for reflections and stories. But something has been holding me back.

I love to write, and like most writers, I enjoy knowing that what I write is being read. I have a bit of an eclectic blog, sharing a variety of things that are interesting to me. It's been pleasantly surprising over the past nearly two years to find that people are actually reading this blog. It's been nice, but as the readership widened, it got harder to write. I've often reminded myself that this is a public blog, but knowing people CAN read it, and that they ARE reading it are two very different things.

I feel it like a calling on my life to be an open person. Authenticity and transparency are high values in my life and friendships. I've chosen many times to be open here, because in the end, I know a lot of people can relate to the things that I wrestle with: especially life and faith issues. My aim has been to share my journey: as complicated and messy as it all is sometimes. If you can't relate to the situations I write about, you can probably relate to the messiness of it all. I don't even get extremely personal on here; the deep stuff I save for my closest friends and God. There's a lot that doesn't end up on this blog. :)

Looking at nearly two years worth of blogging however, I see the accumulation of a lot of me on here. Sometimes, I just honestly feel like hiding from the world. The desire to be known is overshadowed by the fear that to be known is to be rejected. It would be nice to be transparent, and to have it all together. The obvious reality though, is that to be transparent is to reveal weakness.

So, overwhelmed by the accumulation of what I have revealed thus far, and intimidated by the growing pressure to keep writing, I made a choice to withdraw. I chose not to use my voice. I chose safety (in many areas, not just this) instead of risks. It seemed better than continuing on, revealing more weakness at a fragile time in my life, and inevitably letting everyone down.

I guess I'm writing this as a bit of a catharsis. The admission frees me to let go of the expectations and pressure I feel. I love to write. I even think that sometimes I write pretty well. But sometimes, like today, I'm just getting thoughts out and that's my purpose: communication, not stellar writing.

And now, having written so infrequently for these months, I think I've shaken off a lot of readers. I can start afresh with a blank slate of sorts. :)

Reading about blogging (as opposed to actually doing it)... things have to change

I just finished a book on blogging (The Corporate Blogging Book). It was interesting, and a worthwhile read for some of the things we are thinking of doing for work. We're thinking of launching a blog for our organization.

It's funny though because I've been reading about blogging, but not actally blogging. Shameful. :)

It makes realize though that it is time for an overhaul of this blog. After doing this for what is approaching 2 years, I'm in a bit of a rut, as you can see from the scarcity of my posts this winter. So I am going to experiment with some things, changing the look of things... we'll see how it goes.

A lot on my mind

I have a lot on my mind this week. It seems I always do. Those times that I constantly look forward to- when everything will slow down, and things will be simpler- just never seem to happen. I'm in the middle of real life at every moment, so what do I do with that? The challenge is to live a life at rest, and at peace in God, in the midst of all the busy-ness, craziness, and emotional upheavals that life throws at us.

I'm often unsuccessful. Worries and fears sometimes are overwhelming. Sometimes it seems that anxiety is a constant companion. But I'm learning to trust in uncertainty, and there are days, like today, where my mind is full of as many questions as ever, but there is peace and rest in my heart.

I feel like I've lost 30 lbs- why I love spring

There is something so satisfying about putting away my winter coat. This past week has had days when a long sleeved shirt felt too warm, let alone my long heavy jacket. It's so freeing not to be bound by the restricting confines of winter clothes. Just walking around in my regular clothes, minus the coat, makes me feel like I've instantly lost 30 lbs. :)

I have never liked winter. I don't mind watching pretty snowflakes cover the ground, creating idyllic landscapes, and there is something particularly enjoyable about "white" Christmases. But once the New Year hits, I'm ready for the white stuff, and the cold weather to be gone.

I'm reminded though, that if it wasn't for the extremes of a cold winter, I wouldn't have the same appreciation for the coming of spring. It's hard to find words to express the joy of seeing winter's long siege ending, and the promise of new life all around.

Without winter, the rain, mud, and slightly warm temperatures just wouldn't have the same effect. :)

**for the record, I'm not looking to lose 30 lbs ;)

I like long walks on the beach

No, the above is not the beginning of a personal ad. I'm referring to one of the activities that I enjoyed in Mexico last week.

Yes, I went to Puerto Vallarta for 5 days this past week. It was planned and executed at the very last minute, and even when I got there I still couldn't believe it was happening.

It was the most unproductive trip I have ever taken, which was absolutely perfect. I sat on the beach and by the pool, and swam a lot in both. I attempted to tan, and if you see me in the near future I'll show you my slight change in colour. (I'm still paler than most, but there is a proud achievement in going from white to off-white. You're more likely to notice my darker freckles, but I'll take what I can get.) I went boogie boarding, body-surfing, whale-watching, snorkeling, and just generally had a lot of fun. I enjoyed lots of time spent with a family that has become very dear to me. I'm not sure how I lucked out to be treated as one of them, but I'm thankful!

You may join the masses in hating me when I tell you that the trip was also free. I'm still in shock and gratitude for the goodness of God as demonstrated in the unexpected generosity of friends.

I've been feeling down this winter, and during what happened to be a bitter cold snap, I had to make some big decisions that were very difficult. This opportunity happened at the exact right time for me, and I was able to get away and start healing. I'd been wrestling lately with believing that God has good plans for me, and then last week, on the 5 year anniversary of Ashley's death, I found myself in Puerto Vallarta laying on a massage table getting a back massage. I was confronted with the absurdity of my doubts. His love isn't always displayed through a free trip down south, but I can only thank Him for every unique blessing, and enjoy each in its time.

Why I'm a bad public speaker- POINT 1

Being the performance-driven overachiever that I was in high school, I added participation in public speaking competitions to my already full extracurricular schedule in the 11th grade. I worked hard on my speech; I researched the subject, crafted it carefully, and practiced it repeatedly. I practiced the timing, putting in appropriate pauses for emphasis, facial expressions, and vocal inflections.

The time came for the competition and I was ready. I tackled the challenge with gusto, and it was beautiful. I wowed them with my presentation. I know this sounds a little too self-assured, but I hope you’ll allow me this, especially given the circumstances I must relate below.

The other competitors gave their speeches, and I knew I was a top contender. The other keeners at the top knew it too. As the extemporaneous round started and I took my place at the podium, I could see them squirming uncomfortably in their seats. They knew I had them. I was presented a basket with little slips of folded paper, and I carefully reached in and made a blind selection. My challenge was to take the phrase written on the slip I had chosen, and immediately craft and present a two minute speech.

I cleared my voice, made brief but pointed eye contact with my intimidated competitors, and then unfolded and read the piece of paper in my hand. “Suffering makes you stronger.” I blinked.

Then proceeded the longest 120 seconds of my life.

“Suffering makes you stronger.” I started with authority.

“When you suffer, you get… stronger.” I continued a bit more thoughtfully, looking off to the distance. Pausing for effect.

“To be stronger… you must suffer.” I inflected my voice with a bit of incredulousness, to show that I related to the audience and yet had a deeper understanding of the stated truth.

What followed was some creative re-wording and rearranging of the initial statement, without an ounce of meaning, or substance.

I could tell I was losing them, but I had absolutely nothing to say about this subject. My only recourse was to stall, and try to fool them with my clever re-wordings. It didn’t work. The tension in the front-row keeners visibly eased, until smugly relieved smiles plastered their faces. And there I was, with a stunning conclusion: “Suffering, makes you stronger.” Authoritative once again.

I took my seat knowing that my hopes for a win were lost.

It seems strange to remember a point in my life where I really had nothing to say about the fact that suffering makes you stronger. It’s the one subject about which I can’t stop talking, now.

Just a funny memory that I hope makes you smile, as it does me.

Why I'm a bad public speaker- INTRO

I've decided that it's time for me to post a 3 part series, starting today.

The topic is, "Why I'm a terrible a public speaker"

I have three amusing stories to share about some of my public speaking disasters. I've had some good ones as well, and some mediocre ones, but these three are by far my funniest ones.

I'm definitely a writer, not a speaker. My thoughts run in so many abstract directions, and then I try to put it all together sequentially. When I can think it through a bit and craft my sentences in writing, I express myself better. Speaking, I often get tangled up in abstract thought directions, and lose the listeners.

I'm well aware however, that some of my writing could substitute for sedatives for people who are having trouble sleeping.

That said, if you're reading this, you're here of your own volition. I hope my stories make you smile, or at least put an end to your latest phase of insomnia.

Succession of discoveries

I read a good quote today:

"Life is meant to bring a succession of discoveries of our need of Christ, and the way is opened for a new inflow of the supply... and as our need is met, as we prove the sufficiency of Christ to meet our inward need, so there can be a new sharing forth of His glory through us."
-Miles J. Stanford, The Green Letters

Flat tire no more

In my emotional state on Friday night I told my friends Wayne & Irene about my flat tire, and feelings of helplessness. On Saturday morning, I borrowed Amy's car to go to work for a few hours and when I came back Wayne had: taken off my flat tire, taken it to a tire shop, purchased a new-used tire, brought it back, installed it, and driven around the block to test it out.

I felt helpless and alone on Friday, but I think, in the end, the experience was good for me. It helped me realize how hard I find it to ask for help in certain situations. There are a lot of people who are willing to help me, if they can, and if I just ask.

It also reminded me that God doesn't neglect me. Sometimes, in situations like that, I feel like He's ripped me off, and that He's not actually coming through for me.

I had to teach a lesson to the Asian Fellowship kids that was based on part of the Sermon on the Mount (in Matthew 5 & 6). I talked to the kids about trusting God to take care of them, and got them to make skits to act out examples of how what we talked about could look in their lives. It wasn't until they were doing their skits that I thought of how it applied to my situation.

To be honest though, I dismissed it; that is until I came home the next day and saw a new tire on my car. Me of little faith. God hasn't failed me yet, why do I act like I expect Him too? He showed me, again, this weekend that even though my dad is far away, and I can't do everything on my own, He is still looking after me. He often takes care of me through the people around me.

It's humbling. I often feel like what I am given by my friends is so much more significant than what I am able to give back. It's humbling and difficult to be in the place of receiving: without earning and without compulsively repaying out of obligation. I think it's important to be able to sometimes be weak, and needing help of others, and also accepting it. It's hard for me, but if I don't learn this point, I'll never fully understand gospel of grace.

Flat tire

It's been quite a day. As I pulled out of my driveway this morning I noticed that my car was sounding kind of funny, but it was camouflaged a bit by the crunch of packed snow. It wasn't until I pulled off the snowy side-street onto the cleared, busy one that it became really obvious. I drove slowly to the nearest place to pull over, and confirmed that I did, in fact, have a completely flat tire. I sat for a few moments in my car and then turned around and drove very slowly and cautiously back home.

Once home, I didn't know what to do. I called my dad in New Brunswick, but he was on his way out. I didn't want him to hear me really upset and make him feel bad about not being able to help me from such a distance, so I didn't say much.

I sat for a while on the love-seat in our living room, just looking out the window at my flat tire. I didn't know what to do. Should I try to get it to a gas station to put air in the tire? It was sitting on the rim, and I was afraid of damaging it, so I sat there, frozen. Most people I knew to call for help were either at work or away.

I thought of one friend nearby who could at least give me some advice, and I was afraid of being an annoyance, but I sucked it up and called anyway. He wisely advised me not to drive on the rim, but to put on my spare tire until I could bring the flat one into a tire shop. He told me that changing a tire is simple, and walked me through step-by-step instructions on how to do it. As I listened, I took deep gulps of air to keep from bursting into tears, and tried to keep my voice from getting too high-pitched. He was busy with work, but said he would check on me later on to see how it went. He sounded much more confident than I was, but I faked it, reluctant to show just how upset and needy I was.

So out I went, faithfully. I found my spare tire, jack, etc in the trunk and my spirits raised a little. "Maybe I can do this thing," I thought. I popped off the centre thing and started working on the bolts. And that's as far I got. I couldn't budge them.

At 1:30am as I write this, my car is still out there, with one flat tire. I've been moody and grumpy all evening (my poor roommates). I cried quite a bit. I usually avoid publicly admitting to crying, but I'm too tired to care.

I know it's just a flat tire, but I wish there was a way to explain how frustrating it is to feel so helpless and needy. I hate feeling like a burden, and wish that I could just do some of these things on my own, but when I try, I find myself making decisions that are inexplicably stupid, or else I am frozen into inaction. I am not a prissy girly-girl. I don't want to be a dumb, helpless girl... but sometimes that's what I am and I hate it. I just wish my dad was here because he'd take care of me.

Some family pictures

We went to Alyssa's ringuette game, and made these signs to support her (or embarass her, heehee). I told her that she had to get a goal for me, and that after she scored, she would have to point up at me in the stands to let me know it was for me. She did it! It made my day. Unfortunately I didn't get a good shot of her on the ice, or in uniform, but here she is below, with my sister.

Melanie and Alyssa after the game.

Me and my dad.

Melanie and our grandmother Doris (my dad's mom, we call her "Nan")

With my cousin Christy at one of many family gathering

My mom and dad

My aunt Marcia and my cousin Christy

With my cousins: Rebecca and Alyssa

With Melanie and Heather (us MacDonald girls)

The MacDonald kids: me, Melanie, Heather & Deven

Dusk

It is dusk. My favorite part of the day. The sun is slowly setting over the horizon. That blazing ball of fire. Soon it will be dark. My friends have flown to all sorts of exotic places and brought back news about how beautiful it was where they went. They were so wrapped up in the beauty of other lands that they forget the beauty that surrounds us.
I sit on a hill next to my house and I can see the Bay of Fundy. Beside me is a tree. A leaf lets go of the branch that supports it and slowly falls to the ground. I pick it up and press it in my book.
The trees are all sorts of reds, oranges, browns and yellows, put together to make a beautiful collage. Leaves are everywhere, on the ground mostly, but a few are in the trees.
The great tree beside me must be a couple of hundred years old. Standing there, strong, tall and brave. I wonder what this tree has seen and heard?
A crow caws, a pesky animal, but its feathers are sleek and black and beautiful.
I look around me: everything so natural, so free.
This is my home.

By Jennifer MacDonald
Age:12

The Attic

I'm back in New Brunswick for Christmas. I've been completely lazy today, reading, chatting with my sister and sister-in-law, watching "the Quiet Man" with my parents. It's nice, but I'm going to have to be more active tomorrow!

Last night we had lots of laughs rehashing old memories as Dad and Deven went up into the attic and pulled out boxes of stuff stored for years. Among my things: a favourite stuffed animal Sammy, my Curious George, old school books, Valentines from second grade, report cards, awards, pictures. There were memories I'd forgotten: bringing my dog to the local dog show where she won "most talented" for the tricks that I'd taught her. My memory was stirred by a newspaper clipping of me (complete with over-large 1980's glasses and frizzy hair) with the greatest dog ever. I found my "student of the week" poster from the second grade and read meaningful descriptions of myself from my 7-year old classmates: "Jennifer doesn't bug her classmates. Jennifer doesn't make a mess when she eats." High praise indeed. :) I discovered that I was a prolific writer from a young age, starting with my first short story about "the Alien" (spelled "Aleyin"). It was fun laughing and reminiscing with my family... realizing that some things change, while others never do.

It's good to be home. I spend so much time laughing with my family. I'd love to share some of it with you, but it's the rare person who can withstand and even appreciate the odd MacDonald sense of humour.

Airports are full of lonely people

I'm back from another trip. Orlando this time. No pictures though.

The idea of a jet-set life can seem glamorous and enviable. More often than not though, constant travel makes for a lonely life.

People have made envious statements about wishing they were able to travel like I do. I only travel a fraction of what others in our organization do, but I can say, it's not all it's cracked up to be.

Yes, I enjoy it, and am glad to have these experiences. The places, and then of course the people I get to interact with in those places make it all worthwhile. I'm not apologizing for that. My point is, travel itself is more lonely than glamorous.

I love to spend time in airports people-watching. The observation that struck home once again this time, is that airports are full of lonely people. (The family of four headed to Disney may not fall in that category, but they've got their own unglamorous aspects of travel to deal with).

At the boarding gates, everyone sits in the same area, isolated from the people, places and positions that source their sense of self-worth. Business travellers become absorbed in their blackberries and palm pilots. Others observe the scurry of important-looking activity and pull out their own devices, showing everyone else that in the outside world, they are important!

At one point watching people go past my gate, I counted 1 in 5 talking on their cell phones as they walked. You might think this is understandable, since these people, travelling all over the world for work, are obviously important. Spend some time listening to one-sided conversations and you'll quickly realize that many of these calls aren't as important as the people making them want to feel. Unnecessary phone calls abound: triple-checking on something that's already been done or doesn't need to be done, touching base with long-forgotten people, and seeing how many numbers stored in their phone are still active.

Why am I people-watching instead of engaging in such thinly disguised lonely behaviour? Well I would like to say that I am above it, but I'm not. I've felt the pull to get out my palm pilot and sketch in urgent to-do items like "unpack suitcase when I get home", or to make an urgent call on my cell phone. The thing is, my palm pilot was left at home, and my pay-as-you-go cell phone ran out of minutes. So I was left alone to think and eavesdrop. :)

Having arrived in Orlando last week, I sat in my room and realized how lonely I was. I actually just felt something close to sadness at not having something or someone to miss. I felt alone, and anchorless, knowing no one at home was waiting to hear if I had arrived safely, or to hear highlights of my day of meetings. I've felt that before during international travel as well, that anchorless feeling.

Then I was reminded of God's constant and precious presence:

"O LORD, You have examined my heart
and know everything about me.
You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my every thought when far away.
You chart the path ahead of me
and tell me where to stop and rest.
Every moment you know where I am.
You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, LORD.
You both precede and follow me.
You place Your hand of blessing on my head.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too great for me to know!

I can never escape from Your Spirit!
I can never get away from Your presence!
If I go up to heaven You are there;
if I go down to the place of the dead, You are there.
If I ride the wings of the morning,
if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
even there Your hand will guide me,
and Your strength will support me.
I could ask the darkness to hide me
and the light around me to become night-
but even in darkness I cannot hide from You.
To You the night shines as bright as day.
Darkness and light are both alike to You. (Ps 139:1-12, NLT)

I'm never alone. Worth is not assigned because of how important we look or feel. We hold worth because of the value God puts on us as His created and blood-bought children.

Thomas Merton quote- Christ in us

I got the following from Kirk Bartha's blog. It is a quote from Thomas Merton:

The problem of forming Christ in us is not to be solved merely by our own efforts. It is not a matter of studying the Gospels and then working to put our ideas into practice, although we should try to do that too, but always under the guidance of grace, in complete subjection to the Holy Spirit.

For if we depend on our own ideas, our own judgment and our own efforts to reproduce the life of Christ, we will only act out some kind of pious charade which will ultimately scare everybody we meet because it will be so stiff and artificial and so dead.

It is the Spirit of God that must teach us Who Christ is and form Christ in us and transform us into other Christs. After all, transformation into Christ is not just an individual affair: there is only one Christ, not many. He is not divided. And for me to become Christ is to enter into the Life of the Whole Christ, the Mystical Body made up of the Head and the members, Christ and all who are incorporated in Him by His Spirit.
Thomas Merton – New Seeds of Contemplation