Tim Goldsmith

(“The Pumpkin” on Christmas Day)

Do you think as a people we have lost our appreciation of blurry edges?

I think society finds itself trapped between modernist scientific expectations and a desire to embrace some kind of post-modern spirituality that is impossible to delineate.

We want straight lines, clear boundaries and obvious start-finish points.

We like much of our lives to be like our TV recorders. Half-hour slots, trim off the excess and keep it neat.

What am I going to do? When am I going to do it? How long will it take?

But there’s that still small voice that speaks to us in a place deep inside that we tend to call the heart.

It’s a voice that tells us that life isn’t like that.

The world is bigger than we can understand. So many of those things that we compartmentalise are only able to fit in their boxes because we demean and diminish them as we do so.

We know that our ability to ask the question tells us that there is more to life that its taxonomy, and it scares us!

There are those who found it tough in Bible College that we couldn’t always get our finger firmly on the pulse of God’s message at all times.

Why can’t we dissect and digest Him?

I thank God that I’ve come to grips with some of the fuzzy edges. When it comes to what needs to be in focus, I’m confident that God is crystal clear. Romans 10:9 tells us

If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead you will be saved So sometimes, when I find myself in unfamiliar territory, I can work hard to make sure that my lack of understanding is not ignorance, but otherwise, I can just enjoy the pleasant blur that comes with being out of focus, confident that He in whom I trust sees me as clear as day.

I resolve to be more resolute in 2010.

I will resolve more issues.

I wont try and re-solve things that have already been resolved.

I meet up occasionally with the assistant minister at the local Presbyterian church.

Last time we had a really nice chat. Good to talk about church, about life and about things that energise.

He sand the praises of Oscar Wilde’s “A Picture of Dorian Gray.” I hadn’t read it. In one of those delightful little coincidences (call them fate, call them divine providence) my wife actually gave me a copy for Christmas & I started to read it yesterday.

I don’t know why I haven’t read any Wilde before! He’s a cynic & reads like he must be pretty immoral, but the man knows how to string words together! I think I’m inspired!

Don’t think for a second that I have any false illusions. I’ll never be a Wilde. He has reminded me, however, of that great joy that comes from flexing your imaginative muscles. The death of this blog has been a reflection of me letting my muscles atrophy. Once you’re out of the habit it’s easier to let things go.

That’s it. Next year, I might avoid the ever-popular “365″ concept, but go for 5 posts a week!

A chance to ensure that those memorable moments that are found throughout the day are frozen somewhere for me to enjoy, and maybe spread a bit of the joy around too.

So, my thought for the day revolves around Christmas.

Sometime’s Mark Driscoll’s “muscular Christianity” really bugs me, like he wont be happy until every man can chug a beer (but not too many), know the names of a dozen mixed martial artists and simultaneously drive an 18-wheeler truck and a 4X4 motorbike.

That said, I really appreciate a lot of what he says. I enjoyed, in particular, thoughts leading up to Christmas about things that dads could be doing, including “creating memories” for their kids.

Do we think often enough about where & how we create memories?

What are your memories about Christmas as a child?

In particular I remember fighting (light heartedly) with my Aunt over a particular chocolate that was in the centerpiece of the table every year. I can close my eyes & almost smell the pine as my brother & I laid out our sleeping bags & camped down under the tree for a week before Christmas. The look of the presents under the blinking lights and that sweet waft bringing Christmas dreams as we slowly lost the battle to stay awake.

I’m thankful for so many memories. I’m really thankful to my parents, that Christmas was such a priority to my family & that to this day my extended family still really enjoys getting together (even if it has migrated to boxing day now). But I want to build on it. I want to be intentional in my memory building.

Driscoll has his view of what dads need to do, but now I appeal to you, the three people who still occasionally read my blog (and hopefully those you can convince to come & say “hi”) What’s the memory you have & what’s the idea you can give. How can I create real memories for my kid?

Note: As a minister, I hope people can assume that my No.1 priority is for my kid to see this as an opportunity to worship the birth of Jesus, “God become Man.” At the same time, I think that the clear statement that God makes through His son is His welcoming us to be a part of His family if we trust in Him. That aspect of family is something that it is healthy to mirror in our own family relationships. I think maybe sometimes Christians can be precious about Christmas traditions that don’t mention Jesus every sentence. I think it can be good to let go of this sometimes & worship God through love and action & not just words…

So the reclamation continues.

I decided to reclaim my body. My beautiful wife gave me a Nike+ to attach to my nano, which allows me to set runs of varying duration, distance, or calorie burning capacity. It keeps all the statistics for me &, for a “counter” like myself, it gives me that opportunity to push things just that little bit further every day.

Run #1 was 2km. 3 weeks later I managed 7kms.

Look, I’m not kidding myself, we’re talking tiny distances here, particularly compared to my mate Tim, who just came back from Busselton, where he swam 1.8km, rode 180km & then ran 42km all in 15 hours over 1 day (and that was slow for him!)

But it doesn’t matter. I am reclaiming my body & more importantly, I’m reclaiming the little pleasures that are hidden within this amazing creation of God’s.

There’s a real sense of exhilaration when one finds that you can recover while you are still running.

There is that moment when you feel like your stride is nice & even & your balance is good.

And, best of all, that point where you push on behind that lazy-tiredness & feel suddenly like you could run forever (True, this is usually followed by legitimate tiredness, but it doesn’t matter. It is a glorious moment.)

It’s exciting and encouraging & also a time for rebuke when one realises what I might be capable of, were it not for my laziness, gluttony, or absent mindedness.

I hope I keep it up. I like the challenge of pushing a little bit further, and, so far, I feel like I am more awake when I actually tell my body that it is OK to work hard.

Maybe if I conquer the body, I can work out on a couple of aspects of the mind next?