An Open Invitation {A Quoted Passage}

 
 
{from an evening in early November with good, honest company, lots of laughs, and reflections on God's goodness in our journeys}
 
A dear childhood friend from my home-state of Illinois passed this passage from a book reading along. It paints a picture of growth toward maturity:
 
"Many who have traveled this way of faith have described the transition from the infantile faith that grabs at God out of desperation to the mature faith that responds to God out of love, 'like a baby content in its mother's arms.' Often our conscious Christian lives do begin at points of desperation, and God, of course, does not refuse to meet our needs. Heavenly comforts break through our despair and persuade us that 'all will be well and all manner of things will be well.'
 
The early stages of Christian belief are not infrequently marked with miraculous signs and exhilarations of spirit. But as discipleship continues, the sensible comforts gradually disappear. For God does not want us neurotically dependent on him but willingly trustful in him. And so he weans us. The period of infancy will not be sentimentally extended beyond what is necessary. The time of weaning is very often noisy and marked by misunderstandings: I no longer feel like I did when I was first a Christian. Does that mean I am no longer a Christian? Has God abandoned me? Have I done something terribly wrong?
 
The answer is, neither. God hasn't abandoned you and you haven't done anything wrong. You are being weaned. The apron strings have been cut. You are free to come to God or not come to him. You are, in a sense, on your own with an open invitation to listen and receive and enjoy our Lord.
 
The last line of the psalm [131] addresses this quality of newly acquired freedom: 'Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope. Hope now; hope always!' Choose to be with him; elect his presence; aspire his ways; respond to his love."
 
 
We will soon be sharing time with loved ones for Thanksgiving week.
 
May your time be very warm and joy-filled.

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