Showing posts with label question. Show all posts
Showing posts with label question. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

talking about truth

 we've been talking a lot about truth these days.  

how do we define truth? 

do we own the truth we know,

 or do we merely believe it without internalizing? 

do we hold truth closer than doubt? 

do we live in it even without the affirmation of others? 

do we replace truth with conviction?

are the answers to these questions applicable to our generation,

or just me in my situation?

this isn't a poem, it's a pondering. a friend here at the training center has been surveying our classmates in pursuit of the answers to these questions, and he is convinced millennials and gen-z are moving to a place where doubt is at the core of everything we believe or become convicted of. we are a generation bent toward tolerance and flexibility and the idea of absolute truth strikes us as improbable.  

i am convinced of the absolute truth of God and His Word. i know that. and yet, when someone asks me, "what would science have to do to prove God does not exist?" i consider the question.  it feels wrong not to consider the question. does that mean i have a core of doubt? what does typing this say about me and my beliefs?

i believe the truth that God is love, because i have experienced it. i believe the truth that God offers peace that passes understanding, because i am unsure of many things in many ways but i know He walks with me every step of the way, and that soothes my soul. but are there places where i hold my doubt closer than the truth i know?

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Comforting?

What does it mean to be holy in a sinful body? What does it mean to be truly humble in our relationships? How do you reach the ones who are so far retreated inside themselves, even they have forgotten the way out?  In lieu of answers (which I’m working on), I want to share a sort of poem almost directly lifted from one of my recent conversations with a twelve-year-old girl.

I say, what’s your favorite part about school?
Leaving.
I say, okay, so what’s your least favorite part?
Coming.

The teachers, she says, spend all their time
yelling.
The teachers, she says, spend no time 
listening.

They say, she’ll make it through just fine 
complying.
They say, she just needs to stop all her 
fighting.

Really? That’s what they say to be
comforting?
Really?