when strivings cease

I was reading this article in the Times about career bloggers, and how there have been at least three stress-related deaths in the blog industry in the past month or so. It sounds like a demanding gig and one that I don't envy. Not that trying to convince people to invest in eternity isn't demnding (was that a double negative?)--which is my current 'professional' gig, and a necessary part of my job. Luckily, that is the Holy Spirit's deal...I can do no convincing. Which, honestly, I am quite glad of--it takes the pressure off. But I certainly do work. More on that later.



Anyhow. That brings me to another thought...something that came to mind yesterday morning as I was jogging through the misty greyness. If I can get myself up early (which I usually can) and keep my mind numb enough to not rationalize staying indoors with a cup of tea, I can often be outside and a mile into my run before my brain knows what my body is doing. This is the place I found myself early, on Saturday. The neighborhood I grew up in is not a bad area to take a jog--there are little 'parks' with aging alluminum benches and some nice shady trees. I gather these little spaces were once teeming with children, say, in the 50's and 60's--playing baseball and whatnot. Now you just see the random squirrel or two, scurrying up a tree. To be fair, I saw quite a few squirrels--doing some sort of courtship circle-dancing. Scurry, scurry...squeak! Glance back...scurry... squeak sqeak! (don't notice me=please notice me! Chase me up this tree, please! It is not unlike human courtship practices, only sometimes minus the tree climbing.) Avoiding the massive potholes typical of Cleveland, I ran pass the squirrels and trees, a tree still housing a weathered, plastic Santa Clause, daffodils on treelawns, a few "Mit Romney for President" signs propped up in front windows. The bungalow jungle, the streets of Parma.





There is this little church sort of in the middle of the neighborhood and it plays bells on the hour on the weekends--hymns and such. I loooove hearing that sound off in the distance because it reminds me of Europe and it reminds me of Jesus. On this particular Saturday, the bells were chiming out possibly my favorite hymn, In Christ Alone.



In Christ Alone


In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my
All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand




That's just the first bit. What registered with me as I listened, thinking through the words as I ran, was the part about that says"when strivings cease." Living in a strivings-based culture, and as a type of well, let's say, striving-addict, thinking about "strivings ceasing" is a bit unnerving. Makes me a little anxious, to be quite honest. And that reaction is not uncommon considering the nature of addiction, right? I think this hymn is addressing the mysterious idea of grace--something we cannot attain through our own actions. When human hearts finally, in the love and peace of Christ, conclude that there is nothing they can do to earn God's love..."strivings cease". Strivings could be any number of efforts and struggles--some are worthy of the work, and some are completely worthless. Often I am guilty of attempted strivings...to make God love me more through my actions, of earning human approval. It makes me "feel" like I've accomplished something. The crazy thing it that Christ values me no more or less based on what I do for Him. And if I've ever thought that my strivings are enough to earn love--that is altogether false as well.

I think I am beginning to realize just how completely undeserving I am. And how utterly blessed.