He Sees Generations

When God looks at me, He sees generations.

A couple months back, Pastor Doug spoke on the fruitful life. He spoke of how God wants us to produce fruit and how that he sees that fruit when he sees us. It was a totally new idea for me to think that God sees all of my descendents when he sees me and somehow made me want to live better.

When I was just finishing my housesitting at Dad's in Lakewood a week ago, I was longing for companionship like I never have before. A week along with only plants and books to talk too doesn't work very well with someone that always has someone around. Anyway, a handsome, sweet, servant-hearted, perceptive and successful man showed up in my life...when I was at my weakest. He really was interested in me. As of yesterday he has been hurt by me because he doesn't love Jesus. Man, was that a hard conversation to have. Three days of excitment, three days of thinking, and one hour and a half long conversation that went to show that obedience hurts and isn't easy, but is good.

The night before I met with this man, I found myself back in Genesis where Doug had been preaching when this came up. I read about Abraham and Sarah, the covenant, and so on. I was surprised to see the similarities in my situation and theirs. Granted, God never told me that I would have a husband, but like Abraham, I occasionally want to take matters into my own hands and I mess things up when I do. God told Abraham he would have descendents as numerous as the stars. When Sarah wouldn't concieve, he took Hagar to be his wife to get that child of promise. Had he not been so impatient, the issues with the Taliban, Al Quaida, Saddam Hussein, The Crusades, and all of the Islamic world would not have been so intense. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they are alive, but the centuries of problems between Christians and Muslims wouldn't have been a problem. God sees generations when he sees us. Our actions and lack of faith follow us into our children's lives and children's children's lives and children's children's children's lives. God sees generations.

I don't know why, but sometimes God gives us over to our desires. That's what resulted in Ishmael's birth. Though God loved this "donkey of a man," Ishmael's generations made things vastly more difficult for Isaac's generations...those intended to be the only ones.

I hated hurting this man, but quickly realized that he would have been my Ishmael. I could respect him deeply and fall in love with him, but it would complicate things later. That isn't what I want for those after me. I want to make it as simple as possible and purely blessed without compromise.

Thinking and Feeling Through Life

Today I went to downtown Tacoma to visit my friend, Josh. I helped him move a couple weeks ago, so he took me to the Black Water Cafe to thank me. I like talking with Josh. I feel like I've got good ideas and am an equal to one of the guys I most respect for his relationship with God. It was nice. I've had a lot on my mind lately and an afternoon in Josh's world was a good addition to the mix.

Dad's office is two blocks down 11th from Josh's place. Every Thursday there is a street market on the road in front of Dad's building and after hanging out with Josh, I stopped to check it out before rushing home to work. I parked down on Pacific in 30 minute parking and walked up the hill. Along the way, I met a middle aged man named Doug. He had grey, fluffy hair, glasses and was wearing a lot of beige. Doug was headed up to the courthouse to file some papers. I told him I was going to visit my dad and the street market. We parted ways and wished one another well. In the market, there were artists of all kinds, farmers, hippies and children. It was still being set up, but as I was heading back out, I took a second look at the Asian family with the organic vegetables and decided I had to get some peas. One pound looked like too much so, the little girl, eager to be a helpful grown up took a small handful out of the bag, just barely put it back on the scale and offered me significantly more than half a pound for the stated price of $1. I was so charmed by this little girl and her mother that I paid two.

It turned out that Dad was in Bremerton, so I couldn't steal a hug from him, but I did find out something fun. The only thing he bought at the street market last week was the peas in the pod that I bought. He got more, but he also paid a higher price per pound and had this little girl's grandfather weighing it in my suspicions. He ate them all in one sitting too. A coincidence? I think not. It must be a family thing.

Anyway, I drove home, eating my organic peas in the pod, listened to some old Caedmon's Call, felt all I had been dealing with in the past week, felt God's nearness and was amazed at how alive I felt.