A Revolutionary Illustration

In a moment of inspiration, an illustration for spiritual growth dawned on me this morning. What will it have to do with beauty? You tell me.

Our lives are like a wing-nut (shout out to Nate by changing the graphic atop this post to the mascot of the Wichita Wingnuts) and God is like the bolt for which we were machined. The threads are God's good gifts of beauty, joy, pleasure, purpose and even physical necessities like food and oxygen. 

The world is filled with the disembodied shards of God's threads. They surround us like gnarled finger nail clippings or eraser debris. Though these things--especially in their purest state--seem vaguely to fill our voids, they stubbornly fall out and leave all humanity with a nagging sense of incompletion.

These threads are God's good gifts, and have immemorially been intended to draw us to our Maker. This can only take place when thread is joined to shaft whereby, with each revolution, we remain both filled and incrementally closer to communion withe their source. The end is to rest snugly against the one for whom we were made.

Apart from the shaft of the bolt, however, these shards can only give vague hints. When we recognize that these shards of thread find perfect continuity and purpose when joined to our Maker we begin our lifelong journey along them until we see Him face-to-face and embrace.

However, we remain dinged and flawed within. Our inner threads are jagged, mangled things; a holdover from our fallen past. We are accustomed to viewing these thread idolatrously, and habitually cling to them. Each revolution of the bolt causes us to release the previous section of thread, move along it and thus be drawn closer to our Maker. When we cannot let go of any given section, our relationship does, of necessity, stall. However, the Holy Spirit continues to exert torque on the bolt. This is His job and promise. As He does so, the thread begins to buckle and fray. The longer we cling to any one section, the more gnarled it becomes ... and we with it. 

This is a mercy of God that these threads gnarl and contort, because they can never fill us in an of themselves. The gnarling exposes this truth. Through repentance God will allow the ruined thread to give way. The revolutions can continue, we can be drawn again toward our Maker and, though it may take time for the cleaving pieces to wind their way through then out of our lives, they will eventually be purged. Our inner being, too, can be repaired, and this happens gradually through the glacial-process of each revolution--rubbing and smoothing us within.

As mentioned, the Spirit exerts a constant torque on the bolt. We, in turn, exert force on the wings through prayer, obedience, fellowship and time in the Scripture. These are external practices, which lead to internal change. Should the Spirit cease His force, our activities would merely spin the bolt in vain, but He promises never to cease His activity. Should we place no force on the wings, He, too, would merely be spinning us in vain. 

Our external pressure must be matched by an internal change--i.e. the inner yielded-ness that enables the threads to continue their process smoothly. (A misnomer, because the point of inner change is that we need it and this cannot always be a "smooth" process!)

So we see in this the dynamic the concurrent relationship between human effort and the work of the Spirit. We also see how inner change must continue if external activities are to accomplish their purposes. Without this we become what Jesus called "hypocrites"--play actors.

For what it's worth.

Selah.