Delaying the Inevitable

So, once again, here I sit. In front of my computer. With an outline to finish and miles to go before I sleep. (Sorry, I couldn't resist). Well, maybe not miles--perhaps kilometers? or even meters? And here I sit, thinking of how inadequate I am for the task of being a college student, of being a friend, of loving Christ. It seems like no matter how many times someone tells me I'm wonderful or beautiful or intelligent or worthy of being loved or of being friends with, I still cannot accept it in my innermost being. Silly, and irrational, isn't it? And I know these are lies. But they're terribly easy lies to believe. That's no excuse, I know. They're comfortable lies. Lies that allow me to stay tucked in my shell, never reaching out and making myself vulnerable to my friends, never really loving my neighbor as I love myself. Never really accepting the fact that I am, in some measure, valuable to my friends and family, perhaps even classmates, but most importantly to my Father and Creator.
So, here are some antidotes to these lies:

I was created out of love, to love and be loved by God, to know and be known by God.

I was created in the image of God--somehow I am a unique expression of the character and beauty of God.

No one can steal me out of your hand.

You see the depths of my heart and You love me the same.

Dust of the earth, but Thine we are.

You love Your children freely and generously; You are merciful and graceful toward them.

And God saw all that He had made, and it was very good.

What am I, that I might be called Your child? What am I, that You might die that I might live?

You know my innermost being Lord, even better than I know myself!
What a beautiful God!

At the risk of wearing out my welcome, at the risk of self-discovery, I'll take every moment and every minute that You give me

He is especially fond of you.

Today in chapel, Dean Brittain preached on the parable of the talents. To be honest, I always dread when someone preaches on this particular topic because it usually convicts me about how I'm not using my 'talent' (yes, i've always happened to think of myself as the one talent person). What stuck out most to me was that fact that the one talent person had thought of the Master as some terribly mean and vindictive entity. And then Dr. Brittain discussed how some people may view the distribution of the talents as either punishment or reward. That is certainly not the case! And today, I learned for the first time how much an individual talent is worth.
I must confess that I have fallen prey to all of the above lies. I've always been quite covetous, and jealous of those who have immense talent--or, rather, the talents I thought I had or wanted or needed. I'm an okay writer, but I'm certainly not Tennyson or Austen or anything of the sort.
I'm sort of intelligent, but I have not the math and science gift, so to speak. I can take landscape shots of which I may be terribly proud, but utterly ashamed of in the next breath as I take a look at the skill of others my age. And so on, and so forth.
But really, I'm missing the whole point.

I received this quote in a card for my birthday while I was in London, by George MacDonald:

"I would rather be what God chose to make me than the most glorious creature that I can think of; for to have been thought about, born in God's thought, and then made by God, is the dearest, grandest, and most precious thing"

This is rather intimidating, don't you think? It's much easier to think of God's love in an abstract sense than to actually receive it, actually accepting the person God had in mind when He created us. This love is so extravagant, so embarassing, even! Sitting in the chapel for the concert tonight, surrounded by a few hundred students and families and teenagers, I was overwhelmed by this concept. Each and every single one of these persons is dear to you! You are especially fond of them.

I really can't quite grasp this.

God had us in mind, much like the way, I imagine, an artist dreams up his or her next painting or drawing or collage--or a poet conceives of an abstract concept or strikingly simple event and incarnates it in his/her words. It is much easier, typically, to extol the grandeur of creation, than to celebrate the crown and most precious part of God's creation. No matter how enraptured we may be by a night sky with stars sprinkled in precise patterns or calmed by a gentle breeze on the quad while it's still sort of summer, God claims us, His creatures, as more wonderful than these things! I'm not in any way trying to discount the beauty of the earth, but I just really think it's incredible how much value God ascribes to humans.

Zephaniah 3:17-19, Hosea, Psalms, 1 John