(no subject)
I've just been reading and reflecting on the book of Romans -- I'm in Chapter Four at the moment -- and wow, meditation is hard.
By "meditation" I don't mean the word in its commonly understood, Eastern-mystical sense. No rhythmic breathing, or making one's mind an empty space, or visualizing water flowing between rocks, or murmuring "Om", or anything of that sort. I mean it in the sense the writer of Psalm 119 used it: quiet consideration of and reflection on God's truth, turning over Scripture in one's mind until you really grasp what's being said and can apply it to your life. But in a world full of distractions, and given a mind that tends to flit rapidly from one disconnected thought to another, not to mention an overactive imagination that kicks in at every possible opportunity -- I find meditation even harder than prayer, and that's saying a lot because prayer is very difficult for me as well.
If I really want to have a decent prayer time I have to a) go for a walk, so that I'm not tempted to get too comfortable and fall asleep; b) keep my eyes open, so that I'm too busy taking input from the world around me to get lost in imagination; and b) talk out loud, so I don't lose my train of thought. I'm finding that with meditation, I have to do almost the same thing (minus only the walking part, since I need to have the Bible open in front of me for reference and, well, I've had a few embarrassing accidents trying to read and walk at the same time).
I used to make detailed outlines and notes when I was reading a passage. But after several years of that I found my study had become very dry and academic. Like I was slaving away on some project for university in the hopes of getting top marks, rather than taking pleasure and benefit from the opportunity to spend time in God's Word. I felt that I was learning all kinds of things about God, but not so much spending time with Him or getting to know Him intimately. Imagine a woman who receives a love letter from an infinitely desirable suitor, but instead of reading it eagerly and treasuring every word, she sits down and picks it apart for grammar and syntax -- that was where I felt all my note-taking had brought me. But what was the alternative? I'm an inveterate speed-reader; I knew that if I simply committed myself to reading the Bible I'd just end up skimming over the surface and remembering very little. So for a long time -- I am ashamed to admit how long -- I did very little personal Bible reading or study at all.
Now, though, I'm getting back into it, and I'm trying this meditation thing that my father (bless him) always talked about -- though until now I never really listened because I was convinced that My Mind Just Doesn't Work That Way. And well, maybe there is still a grain of truth to that: certainly it's not easy for me to slow down and focus to that degree, it's not my natural mental inclination. (This is also why I am a lousy reader of poetry.) But it's possible. And, I'm beginning to discover, it's also very rewarding.
I'm just glad the Lord is so patient and gracious with me, because I really am thick as a walrus sandwich sometimes. Sigh.
By "meditation" I don't mean the word in its commonly understood, Eastern-mystical sense. No rhythmic breathing, or making one's mind an empty space, or visualizing water flowing between rocks, or murmuring "Om", or anything of that sort. I mean it in the sense the writer of Psalm 119 used it: quiet consideration of and reflection on God's truth, turning over Scripture in one's mind until you really grasp what's being said and can apply it to your life. But in a world full of distractions, and given a mind that tends to flit rapidly from one disconnected thought to another, not to mention an overactive imagination that kicks in at every possible opportunity -- I find meditation even harder than prayer, and that's saying a lot because prayer is very difficult for me as well.
If I really want to have a decent prayer time I have to a) go for a walk, so that I'm not tempted to get too comfortable and fall asleep; b) keep my eyes open, so that I'm too busy taking input from the world around me to get lost in imagination; and b) talk out loud, so I don't lose my train of thought. I'm finding that with meditation, I have to do almost the same thing (minus only the walking part, since I need to have the Bible open in front of me for reference and, well, I've had a few embarrassing accidents trying to read and walk at the same time).
I used to make detailed outlines and notes when I was reading a passage. But after several years of that I found my study had become very dry and academic. Like I was slaving away on some project for university in the hopes of getting top marks, rather than taking pleasure and benefit from the opportunity to spend time in God's Word. I felt that I was learning all kinds of things about God, but not so much spending time with Him or getting to know Him intimately. Imagine a woman who receives a love letter from an infinitely desirable suitor, but instead of reading it eagerly and treasuring every word, she sits down and picks it apart for grammar and syntax -- that was where I felt all my note-taking had brought me. But what was the alternative? I'm an inveterate speed-reader; I knew that if I simply committed myself to reading the Bible I'd just end up skimming over the surface and remembering very little. So for a long time -- I am ashamed to admit how long -- I did very little personal Bible reading or study at all.
Now, though, I'm getting back into it, and I'm trying this meditation thing that my father (bless him) always talked about -- though until now I never really listened because I was convinced that My Mind Just Doesn't Work That Way. And well, maybe there is still a grain of truth to that: certainly it's not easy for me to slow down and focus to that degree, it's not my natural mental inclination. (This is also why I am a lousy reader of poetry.) But it's possible. And, I'm beginning to discover, it's also very rewarding.
I'm just glad the Lord is so patient and gracious with me, because I really am thick as a walrus sandwich sometimes. Sigh.