Getting There

Oswald's entry for today made me think of my eldest son, Drew. He is a college wrestler -- all lean muscle, music and motion. Coincidentally (or not), he and I were home alone this morning. He went out to get us pastries. I made coffee for me, and we sat down to read and talk about Oswald.

His take: "Sometimes Christians my age want to focus on what we can't do -- drink, party, have sex -- 'suffering the will of the Lord.'"

"Where is the majestic vitality and might of the Son of God about that?" -- Oswald. Drew echoed Oswald's sentiments, albeit a little more succinctly. "That's crap," he said.

I tend to be a glass-half-empty kind of girl. Drew is definitely a glass-all-full kind of guy. The world awaits, and all God requires is that we come unto Jesus. Make the journey, take each step, with him. It's not about what we can't do or even what we should do. It's about walking with him. He promises never to leave us nor forsake us. He promises abundant life. And what does he ask of us? "Come unto me."

Oswald's version of rest also made me think of Drew: "I will get you out of bed, out of the languor and exhaustion, out of the state of being half dead while you are alive; I will imbue you with the spirit of life, and you will be stayed by the perfection of vital activity."

Vital activity. Drew has always been energetic, but in the last two years, he has taken on the yoke of college wrestling. I cannot say that I understand it. I have watched video of him and his teammates running up steep hills with fellow wrestlers on their backs. Sweat is pouring off of them. Guys are moving off to the side of the road to throw up. They drill and lift weights and beat their bodies into submission toward a goal -- to be in optimum shape, to master their craft. It involves incredible sacrifice, but Drew would never describe it that way. It is a joy, a pleasure to him to be able to compete with other fine athletes. "Sweet," I think he would say.

At the end of our devotional time, Drew played a song for me. I do not know the title or the artist, but it portrayed the Christian walk as a grand adventure -- with knights, fair maidens and dragons to be slayed.

"Where the sin and the sorrow cease, and the song and the saint commence."

Thank you, Drew, for giving me a picture of the might, the vitality and the song.