Confession time...

Back in the day when I was a book buyer (seems like yesterday and forever all at once), I was blessed to have many tools at my fingertips for study. It was as much a part of me as my hands or feet and I loved it. So many new books and ideas, sure some were a bit outrageous but I had the ability to discern what would be of interest and what I could discard. Even in my busiest day there was some little nugget to tuck away and peruse another time. My desk always had a stack of interesting material for me to delve into. Now I deal in fair trade and I love it (more about that another day)...the problem is someday's I feel as though I have lost a tiny part of myself. The curiosity that was always piqued has somehow been shelved.

Here is my confession....I simply do not spend enough time in God's word anymore. There is no excuse, actually there are lots of excuses but no good reason. I have an abundance of tools at my disposal; every translation of the bible you could want, dictionaries, commentaries...my library is quite extensive. I certainly have time....and apparently a myriad of excuses. 

So it becomes a matter of discipline, it is a fundamental need in my ability to nurture...it is time to stop making excuses, clean off my desk and get back to basics. For years I told people not to get overwhelmed when studying, spend a moment in prayer, pick up your bible and allow God to teach you what he wants you to hear. So I took my own advice. I usually gravitate to the ESV however with the idea of nurture in mind, I picked up  The Voice. I have learned to love this translation, I would pick it over a paraphrase any day as it combines lyrical beauty with theological reliability...the narrative included draws me into God's place of beauty...the fusion between scholar and poet is masterful. 

Here is my proclamation...I was blessed beyond measure as I read through Ephesians this weekend. Ephesus was one of the great cities during Paul's time. It was a wealthy commercial seaport that was home to the Temple of Diana (the goddess Artemis) and immersed in the magical arts, a kind of religion that promised protection from demons and curses. From prison Paul wrote this generic letter to the church he had nurtured before his imprisonment, a reminder of sorts. These many years later it served to remind me.  It reminded me that we all have the ability to enjoy all of the spiritual blessings God has prearranged for us, it reminded me my heart must be open to receive them, it reminded me of the rich inheritance that awaits me, that God has adopted me as His own, to be careful of how I live (and remember where I once lived), to treat others well, to be prepared through the armor of God and to pray...it reminded me of the incredible love God has for me.