Buongiorno
e benvenuto to the sixth entry in my compilation of subtle epiphanies. This
debriefing comes from the majestic city of Urbino in the beautifully hilly
region of Marche, Italy. The very landscape provokes pensive sentiments, which
is manifested in this account. I shall cease apologizing for the dolorous tones
in my writings, for my entire log is ripe with melancholy, and an apology would
negate any true emotion. Now for the matter at hand:
“I
am a rock. I am an island.” Among my fondest memories of high school lies the
precious singing of Simon and Garfunkel by dear Sharon Tracey. Never before had
I mulled over what it is to truly be an island (nor metaphorically on one). Not
until my journey to Italy have I known isolation: isolation from family,
friends, home, and most importantly teachings of mentors and parents. All too
easily, solidified doctrine becomes muddled with the surrounding world, and (if
not careful) the shallow promises of the world can supplant your formerly immovable foundation. Where righteousness once made its home, secularity and
sin invade. It is all too easy for the uplifting blessings bestowed by the
tongue to be replaced by vulgarity and gossip; for the fun, wholesome evenings
with friends to be deposed by nights out at bars. Sociologists, psychologists,
and even biologists have debated for years and decades over which influence
reigns supreme: nature or nurture? In the brief eighteen days I have been in
this country, I can, without a doubt, confirm that the two coexist; either one
reinforces the other, or the two clash vehemently. Within my being, I have felt
the nurturing of my mentors, teachers, and family being contested by the feral
nature that lies within each of us. As the disciple Paul says in his seventh
chapter of Romans, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do
not do, but what I hate I do.” It is from this internal struggle where I can
pinpoint the legitimacy of spiritual warfare. Though I experience a more
fleeting and feeble version, I feel drawn to the testing of Jesus in the
wilderness. Daily we (in the States and abroad) are challenged by the accuser
to embrace the world’s canon. He paints sin with broad, beautiful strokes,
enticing the fundamentally shaky to fall prey to his trap. When caught unaware,
it is but a short (nevertheless hard) fall. This writing comes amidst the fall;
I have merely the foresight to recognize descent’s onset, and so I can offer no
sagely or battle-hardened advice for those who are experiencing this particular
internal struggle. I merely can point you to the only remedy necessary.
To you in skirmish
with the world look to the fourth chapter of Luke. Know we can indeed do all
things through Christ who strengthens us. To my colleagues and friends, bear
the standard. Ensure accountability amongst your peers, myself included. I am
continually ever thankful to have a savior through whom there is no
condemnation. Thank you for your devotion. Hold me accountable and challenge
me. When the world around you seems all too enticing, and the king of deception
whispers sweet lies into your ear, remain strong in the fact that 1) the tomb
is empty and 2) God is faithful.
