I am going through a dry spell. I suppose dry spells overtake us all from time to time. This one seems particularly barren, more so than the typical dry spell. It will pass.
I have been a faithful blog writer for over eight years now. I have thousands of pages written and mostly edited. Occasionally I run upon a dry spell and cannot, for the life of me, think of anything worth writing about. When I do that, I write about the idea that there is nothing worth writing about. It is a recurring theme.
I am also in an extended musical dry spell. I seem to have nothing creative in me that I want to express. My regular work has absorbed all my creativity, and there it is mostly on display. The work we do is hazardous and can be dangerous if not done with care and caution. Most of my limited energy has been directed at making sure we do the work efficiently and safely. An electrical substation is no place to allow chance and unobserved circumstances to have their way.
Politics is so twisted these days, it is not worth writing about, as no one can be persuaded of anything, and it is being done so well by some, and so poorly by others, yet plenty often by both. I can’t add anything to political discourse, nor, unfortunately for us all, can those who upon whom it seems incumbent to continuously inflict their admonition and correction on those upon whom it has no effect. There is little need to write to persuade myself, since I am already persuaded of what I think. When I write about politics, it merely allows others a forum to add their voice when they seem to me too lazy or unimaginative to voice their opinions on their own forum. They seem to think I have not already considered the way they think, as if my vision is limited and somehow defective because I don’t share theirs. Smugness is the order of the day. Smugness is an unbecoming adornment though some are drawn to it like cheap, imitation jewels mounted in 24 Karat gold-filled settings; the appearance of something valuable is there, minus the value.
The same is true with theology, which I generally like to write about. Sometimes, it’s just not worth the bother. There are always folks who must comment about my faith, letting me know of their intellectual superiority by admonishing me for believing in fables and superstitions. Faith has been with mankind for a long time. It’s not going anywhere. Unbelief has been around just as long. It’s not going anywhere, either. My faith is far more important to me than specious friendships and mere acquaintances passing for friends. Real friends know me and my faith, and though we may not share similar views, we are still genuine friends that share an abiding love for each other. The real friends can stay. The rest can move on about their own business. Their business is not my business. Their business is their own.
The unsavory blending of politics and Christian faith are particularly onerous to me, more particularly, the idea that government charity should supplant what a Christian is obligated to do for any man coming within his reach. When I think of this, I think of the short list of things that Jesus expected from Rome or the Roman appointed Herodian government to deliver. It is a very short list. Here it is: Nothing.
I suppose I am tired. Or perhaps, I am simply fully involved with day to day living. I can’t be sure which. It could well be both. In the long run on the earthly scheme of things, it will not matter, as all of us, the smug and the humble, wind up in the same place, as dust and ashes scattered before the wind, as lost if we were returned to random ones and zeroes scrambled in the ether from a corrupted operating system or a crashed hard drive. The Master has a map of the hard drive. The data can be reassembled, the bus expanded, the RAM increased, and a new, incorruptible operating system installed.
Today, I will leave you with this.
John 10:10 – The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.
I have an abundant life. It is filled with peace, joy, love, and wonder at things natural and things eternal: things that cannot be touched by thieves who would steal, kill, and destroy. If one thinks I would trade this for what life wisdom unbelieving men can bestow, if there be such a thing, then for certain, one is wasting their time here. I have considered this at length. I am persuaded in whom I have believed. There are many paths open to you. You are free to choose the one that suits you. He has left us with the ability to make that choice.
The mere fact that I have written something today is a likely indication of a flood gate soon to be opened. I wouldn’t bet against it.
©2017 Mississippi Chris Sharp
2 thoughts on “4/9/17 A Dry Spell”
You always make me stop and think!
Sent from my iPad
True words Chris.