Oh, how I love Saturdays.
Today I went for a "difficult-right-now-but-got-it-done" run with a wonderful newish friend Kerrie, got ready for the day, and headed to Chris' 10-year reunion. We have another event tonight, but surprisingly got home to have a few hours of down time. Before taking a nap I decided to spend some time online and started looking through old blog posts. It's fun to see the things I was processing over our last months in India, and I came across this quote.
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"The life of uttermost service cannot be called comfortable. 'Comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house as guest, and then becomes a host, and then master. Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron. Verily, the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning to the funeral.' It is true; but it is one thing to applaud it as truth and quite another thing to turn from that lust that murders the passion of the soul, for the sake of these for whom Christ died.
But no one who has done so would exchange this way of living for any other."
-Amy Carmichael, quoting Kahlil Gibran
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It was really interesting to read this quote from the comfort of our American house, and it reminds me how on-guard I need to be ALL THE TIME. Is mine a life of service? Or is comfort tiptoeing in, threatening to disguise itself and steal the passions of my soul? I think I need to process this a bit more in my current context ...
1 comment:
WOW!! That is intense!
I feel even worse since I am still in my p.js....
Maybe this wasn't the day to re-read this.
Nicole, will you teach me how to think deeply please?!
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