Thought Translation

It has been said that the clock is the most significant invention ever to come out of the Western world.

Its influence is pervasive in every sphere of modernity. Our lives run, for the most part, on a tightly woven structure of ticks and tocks. Time has become by far the most precious commodity, to be spent wisely and guarded closely.

But time hurts. It's short. The best things never seem to last long enough while the things we hate seem to last an eternity. There is a longing in us to return to the 'good old days' of our past. Those times that we wish we could have captured forever and relived continually without change.

But the sand slips through our fingers.

So what attitude am I to take to time? Its relentlessness looms over me both as I look back on my life and as I peer timidly into the future. Even this wonderful season that I am in, surrounded by inspiring teachers, encouraging role-models and wonderful new friendships, is quickly approaching its innevitable end. I can't bear the thought.

Why should I bother to truly invest in my surroundings or deepen my relationships when I know that within a few shorts months I will say goodbye and most likely never see most of them again?

Yet my heart cries out against this. Here is my response of faith and hope:

I for one refuse to become a slave to my wristwatch.

I refuse to let time dictate the level of my involvement, effort or love for others. Every conversation, every laugh, every encouragement, every true word said in love, every opened door and shared meal- far from being meaningless in the face of the hour hand, has eternal significance.

There is real risk involved in investing yourself in such circumstances. The pain of saying goodbye is genuinely heartwrenching. But the joy of those moments even in retrospect is worth the tears. Its worth the hurt when you can say that you have made true community and built true relationships.

I refuse to allow time to take that away. I will make it serve me and not the other way around. I will endeavor to make use of every second of every day in pursuit of life's best: knowing and being truly known by my creator and those around me.

Don't let the fear of time rob you of the greatest joys our short time on Earth can offer.

I'm definitely a newbie to the whole realm of the Blogosphere, as a producer as well as a consumer. So I hope anyone who's reading can forgive my perhaps naive tone or possibly unbecoming style.

I'm realising as I read my peer's blogs that I could come across as rather pretentious in the way I put my thoughts forward. I mean, I have set a very pensive mood with my title, the contemplative photos and introspective subject matter. It could all give the impression of thinking quite highly of myself. I laugh to myself even writing this- just look at the way I've put together the first two sentences of this paragraph!

But if there's one thing I want to avoid, it's writing vacuous yet pretty words merely for the sake of writing them. If I'm somewhat poetic in my style, I assure you I'm not just trying to look smart or add vain weight to my words, it's just the way I think and express myself.

I obviously don't talk this way in person. But is my writing in a poetic style offering a false, puffed-up online version of myself? I don't believe that it is. I feel like its a faithful representation of the voice inside.In writing this way, I'm providing a window into my thinking and my heart's song.

Every person has a song within them- the way their heart sounds- this is part of mine. That's why I called this blog 'Thought Translation', because it is my attempt at transliterating my thoughts into words, transplanting ideas from my mind to the reader's. The poetics, however bad or good one might consider them to be, are simply part of that idiom.

But herein lies the tension: how does one balance a poetic mind, with it's tendency to produce lofty-sounding words, with true humility and transparency? How can I share things that I think are valuable without appearing to take myself too seriously?

There are dangers on both extremes. Sometimes we can define ourselves as jokers and scoff at deep things, making it very difficult to step out and say anything of substance when the time comes. On the other extreme we can lack a grounded vision of ourselves and have an inflated view of how deep our words really are, making it impossible to look at ourselves critically or laugh at our own peculiarities.

My encouragement to the reader however is to be unapologetic in the expression of your heart's song. All of us have valuable things to say and our own idiomatic way of expressing them. In that sense we need to take ourselves seriously enough to have the courage to speak out. But on the other side, we need to be able to criticise and laugh at ourselves sometimes.

Part of the work that the Lord has done in me and continues to do is to affirm me in my own mode of expression. I know that it's not the same as everyone else's, but it's the song he's given me.

My earnest hope is that there would always be substance in my words and not just the echo of a shallow soul attempting to sound deep.

Sometimes I don't feel like having conversations. I'm not sure what it is.  I find that when it comes to meeting new people and making an effort to get to know them and really talk, I have an inner resistance that makes the thought an unbearable chore.

Maybe its laziness, or snobbishness, or perhaps an unwillingness to share my time with new people. But whatever it is, I know that it holds me back from truly building community, helping people and showing love to those around me.

In reading the Gospels, it seems that a large part of Jesus' time was spent in conversation. We see him not only teaching, but talking and eating with a wide variety of people. He spoke to them and shared his time with them, choosing to associate with those most shunned by his society.

Jesus didn't reserve his quality time exclusively for his friends and family, although he did spend intimate times with them; he had meaningful, life changing conversations with many outside of his circle. He made effort to speak and spend time with individuals even when he was tired or mourning.

When we read, it seems like a natural outpouring of his love for those he encounters. He just seemed to have time for people, and more than just small talk, he shared challenging, thought provoking and paradigm shifting conversation with everyone, not just friends.

Jesus spoke with people because he truly loved them, and conversation is the way in which humans build relationships and reveal their inner thoughts.

So the question for me is: how much do I really love people?

I mean, I'm a Christian and Christians are supposed to love and help people. I know that God loves me and wants a relationship with me and therefore that I should love others and reach out to them. But how much has this penetrated my heart and manifested  itself in practically spending time with people and making the effort to listen to them?

How will I ever truly love others when I don't give them the time to listen? Even in conversation with those I call friends, do I listen when they speak or do I merely spend the time formulating my next sentence?

That feeling I get at the thought of having to make the effort to truly speak to people reveals the inherent selfishness of my nature. I prefer to keep to my circle of friends and retreat into small talk because it's comfortable. There is no effort, and as a result there is very little reward.  As I said in a song, "Don't wonder why there's no fruit when there's no labour."

But speaking to people- really speaking to them- is incredibly rewarding. Building community and relationships gets back to part of the essence of what it means to be human, made in the image of God. It's worth the effort, because ultimately, people are the most interesting things on earth.

It would do us a great deal of good to take our eyes off ourselves more often and look to those around us, to see their value, their beauty and their uniqueness- and by "we" I refer especially to "me" in those times when I choose not to relate.

Conversation, which means giving people our ear, our time and our attention, is the best means of finding out what's in their hearts and showing love. My self-challenge is to make the effort, my heart and conscience tell me that it's the loving thing to do, and in reality it's no sacrifice since I know that the reward is well worth it.

"And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God,and Jesus Christ whom you have sent" (John 17:3)

Perhaps the most beautiful thing I've experienced is the sense of joy that comes from being who I truly am. It's that feeling of knowing that you are not wearing a mask, that your guard is down and you are free to exist as the person you were made to be.

Our deepest relationships should  bring that feeling out in us. Whether it is in friendship, marriage or family, there is a joy that comes in feeling that you can be yourself. It's a sense of being completely vulnerable and yet loved and appreciated.

There is a freedom that only comes through this being fully exposed and in the light. All pretense fades away, all fear is banished, and the joy of truly being known emerges.

Its such a pure feeling, untainted by tension, hurt or anxiety. Those are the times when I've most truly felt alive. Alive not just in the vague sense of existence but in a glowing spark of joy in my deepest soul.

I've felt it in my relationship with God, a sense of nearness to Him that ignites inspiration, creativity and happiness. A sense that I can stand confidently as His son and be secure in my identity. It creates a flow of songs, words, and closeness to those around me. In those moments I know that I am somehow connected to a longing wedged in the core of my heart and that this is the way life is meant to feel. Like a favourite song, it seems to hit all the right notes.

We are supposed to feel that aliveness in every waking moment. But why don't we? But why do I not live in this joy perpetually?

In a million little ways I continually betray that knowledge of the way things should be. I break my agreement with life and with my creator by momentarily chasing after transient feelings or objects. My hearts knows I'm missing the point and yet I compromise again and again. I trade the joy of purity in living for God's truth and beauty for fleeting pleasures and fading glory.

That betrayal destroys the purity of life. I turn my back on what I know is the standard, on what I know is really real, and as I do it, that flame of inspiration begins to die. That incredible light that penetrates my being and allows me to be fully known and loved is gradually darkened. That spark that made me feel alive is dulled into a drudgery of mere existence.

It takes the courage to confess my shortcomings for that light to come back in. It is an honesty that takes away the mask and reveals my true face, that no longer hides behind a false image and allows itself to be known in the terrible light of truth. I walk in purity to the extent that I allow myself to be known for who I am inside.

I pray that our masks might be broken and we would allow ourselves to step into that all-penetrating light. The greater the amount of darkness we have allowed to intrude and separate us from the way life should be, the more difficult and frightening this may feel. But we can never know the true freedom of being ourselves and being connected with the way things were meant to be if we will not be exposed.

We were made to know and truly be known by our creator. If we do not feel that pure joy and sense of life then we are missing the point of existence.

My intention in this blog is not to present myself as some deep, philosophical thinker, although I know that I, like all of us at some point, ponder the deepest things in life. My intention is to be obedient to God and my conscience in expressing myself by the written word. So I hope to flee from pretense or vain eloquence, but instead faithfully try to communicate my heart. I don't presume that anyone should or would want to listen, but its often a feeling which I need to express. Indeed, to refrain from expressing it would in some cases honestly be sinful.

Adam, where are you?

God asks this of the first man (Gen 3:9), but the question echoes in the heart of mankind. Where am I? Am I hiding from those around me? Hiding from God? Hiding even from myself? Am I running from the true self that I know deep down is my identity? Am I taking up the mantle and the calling that God has placed on me? The answer in many instances is sadly, no.

Many times I am too caught up in the intricacies of everyday life to consider these questions. I am merely going through the day like a drone completing mindless tasks. Perhaps the mind is even actively at work, but only focused on the goal and meeting objectives. This has been my attitude to study in many ways. Get the grades, finish the project, do the presentation. Too often I just "get through" something and not truly put my heart into it for the glory of God.

There was a time when thoughts and feelings and songs would burst from my pen onto the pages of my black book. I would share my deepest concerns with God through the ink on the paper. He would give me songs and prayers and I would scribble them down. But that practice has slowly begun to dwindle,  pages being etched with ever decreasing frequency. Is it because my heart no longer feels those things, or because I have drowned my own voice out by constant busyness and goal achievement?

I intend for this blog to be somewhat of an antidote to the mindset that I have allowed to overtake me. God spoke to me as a child that I would bring him glory through words and songs, and I have let that calling fade for too long. I want to bring it to life through obedience to the longing he has placed in my heart.

So I hope to write on topics that catch my interest or are relevant, but also to share the things that God impresses upon me. When the Lord calls my name and enquires "Where are you?", instead of hiding, pretending or excusing myself, I want to cry out like Daniel, "Speak, for your servant is listening".

(Photo: Ian Martin- Champéry Panorama, Switzerland, 2011)