The Daily Habit

This is my first blog. The reason for this self-assignment is to feed the habit, the discipline, of writing. How is it, then, I could be experiencing writer's block already?

What I must do, then, is acknowledge the problem (check), talk through it (doing), and oi la! I've written four sentences already. And I must not be plagued by Jane Austen's syndrome of editing to perfection; this is a blog, not a novel. The construct of the narrative is not so important as that of Pride and Prejudice, which I read this year.

But this is beside the point. I must move forward into the content of my first post, which is yet undefined.

This dilemma of defining a purpose plagues me. What is the point?

Too often I have strings of projects left incomplete because, when I began each endeavor, they served no real purpose. As amusement was lost, or when some stronger passion came over me, they were abandoned for something else. But if there had been a purpose other than self gratification, I would have done.

For example, I completed my daughter's Christmas dress because it was for Christmas. But even as I sit here, I have the guilt-inducing vantage of my half-painted kitchen cabinets. I can look still further into the incomplete guest bathroom, and should I even confess that I began another project? I did. I painted one wall in the master bedroom.

So much in my life would gain tremendous advantage if I could define the purpose of various activities or, at the very least, if I could just not begin anything that lacks a definitive purpose.

Purpose

I like this definition: an anticipated outcome that is intended or that guides your planned actions.

Someone recently asked me a very serious question, something entirely more serious than sewing or painting. They wanted to hear from me, as a Christian, what the purpose of life was. After a lengthy, story-form explanation of how I arrived at my conclusion, I explained that my purpose was, therefore: 1) to be conformed to the image of Christ and, insodoing, 2) to bring glory to, or to worship, God.

(And to bring the least amount of menacing behaviour upon my husband as possible.)

The anticipated outcome (bringing glory to God) should guide the behaviour--the planned actions--each of which should be done with the intention of demonstrating conformity to Christ's image.

I can use this to evaluate myself: if my purpose in life really is to bring glory to God, every of my actions should be thoughtful in how I either am, or am not, acting in a way that demonstrates Christ-like behaviour. This takes the discipline I so decidedly lack.

In Romans, Paul gives the instruction not to be conformed to this world, but to be "transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect." Though he may not say so himself, Paul was a master at self discipline; he was a pharisee of pharisees. But he was still human. He still bore painfully with his flesh, requiring the daily discipline of dying to self to gain Christ. Yet he could still say to the church, "do as I do." Follow my example.

Days of Habit is to form the habit of writing. But more importantly, I must ask myself: Am I in the daily habit of being conformed to Christ?

May be I should start there.