When Strings Are Not Like Arms Around Me


Photo Credit: Reeve Carney


     Lately I’ve felt a bit like a puppet, rather than simply a lover and a friend of God.  Being in a place of sacrifice has been interesting.

     It’s a fine line between giving your heart away and disregarding your heart all together.

     Yes, the expected pain and heartbreak that sacrifice ushers in, has at times become subtly overwhelming.

     I think I just need to let go.

     I need to let go in a deeper way.

     I feel at times I’m trying to hold it all up--everything, in my own strength, you know, the plans that God has for my life, and those around me. As if I could, in my own strength control them and make all of these plans come about.

     I’m a bit tense to say the least. And my communication with people has felt stilted and a bit awkward at times. Yes, you could say, a lot has been on my mind.

     It would do me some good to stop holding my breath.

     To breathe deeply.

     Because I’ve noticed that when one feels like a puppet, the ground of our hearts become fertile with resentment. And I don’t want to have seeds of resentment sprouting up on me in the middle of my 2013. 

     So instead, I'm choosing to be honest...now, choosing to get still...now, to stop fidgeting...now. 

     I do want to feel arms around me. I want to feel valued.

     And that is the challenge.

     Because in the midst, I realize I'm not as good as I had thought I was at receiving love. You know, truly believing that I'm lovable, in all my dimensions. Actually, let me restate that in a different way:

     Just as there are deeper levels of love to encounter and experience outwardly, there are always deeper levels of love to encounter and experience inwardly, especially with God. The depths of His love cannot be measured. Which then means, I can constantly cultivate a deep well within my heart that is ever expanding to simply RECEIVE love.  And lets just say that my well had somehow shrunk.

     I often hear that receiving love is the hardest part. Not to simply let it wash over you, but to allow it to sink into every pore of your skin and deep into your soul, and for that love to find a home in you.

     I want to allow myself to be loved...deeply.

     I know that God is loving me through this process. I just get a little nervous sometimes in the process.

     I now see that it was actually my own strings of striving that had me entangled. And not the light yoke that God has for me. 

     Today, as I was driving in my car, I played a simple worship song, I put that song on repeat for about an hour, and I purposed to allow God's love and thoughts towards me to penetrate my heart and my mind.

     And that somehow was the beginning of something.

     And I began to breathe deeply.



Wisdom's Knocking:

"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved
--loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."

-Victor Hugo



A Prequel of Sorts: The Pain & Beauty of Sacrifice



      I'd like to think that this is the prequel to "Bang, Bang, Boom":



::::


      I think I know what I’m getting into. But not really. Believing that I can absolutely change the outcome of my life, by doing the exact opposite of what I’m wanting to accomplish.

     Yeah, that makes sense.

     Noooo.

     I foresee bumps in the road. Moments where I want to back out of my commitment to remain single minded and focused. When throwing in the towel, will seem like the most sensible thing to do.

     But what do I do then?

     I hope I’m reminded of what I’m fighting for.

     And what if I’m not.

     So many get so close to a finish line, only to back out of the race.

     Call it fear or a leg cramp.

     We’ll just call it the “Pain of Sacrifice”.

     But then I remember my dream.

     You know, the “Literal” dream I had over a year ago, that pretty much threw a monkey wrench in my romance plans. It was the type of dream that inspires you and haunts you for the rest of your life--Causing you to never settle for less then what you once had a preview of.

     “But what if this sacrifice is not unto what I think it’s unto?”—A constant quote from my mind.

     Perhaps its unto something much more beautiful?

     And how much smooth sailing will I actually encounter along the way?...I almost want to bust out laughing for even asking that question. I mean, really? “Smooth Sailing”?? For some reason, every miracle that has been handed to me or happened to me has involved me feeling like I’m being pushed through a birthing canal or this miracle has appeared at the very, very, very, VERY last minute.

     But in both cases, before those miracles had occurred, I had gotten to the place of letting go completely. I simply trusted and believed God. There was nothing left for me to do.

     So as I think about the year ahead, I’m certain of only a 2 things:

1. I’m pretty sure I’m going to embarrass myself more than once this year. And as always, I’ll tell you in as many details as I can without incriminating others without their permission. 
2. I’m almost certain that I will not be the same version of who I am today.

      And beyond that, the rest is unknown.

     In all honesty, I’m scared of what 2013 really holds for me. And perhaps that’s a good thing.

     The beauty towards sacrifice. The beauty in sacrifice. The  Beauty of Sacrifice.




Wisdom’s Knocking: 

"I keep a close watch on this heart of mine,
I keep my eyes wide open all the time,
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds,
Because you're mine, I walk the line."

-Johnny Cash
















Why Yes, You Look Quite GOOT

Photo Credit: Allen Nery


One of thee most beautiful creatures I have ever seen,

But nothing is going on behind your eyes,

Or in our chemistry.

And that's no good.

That's just no good.




Wisdom's Knocking:

The appearance of a thing, is not necessarily the essence of a thing.



The People's Court

     This clip is all kinds of wonderful crazy:




     Why do I love shows like this? No. Not shows where people frequently pass out. But shows that deal with justice.

     I think because, within the core of who we are as human beings, we want things to be fair, we want things to be just. Because when they are, everything is in its right order. The beauty and essence of something is in its prime and in its true purity.

     And what do we do to try and maintain such purity and such justice? We become judges.

     I'm more than aware, that the words "judge" and  "judgement" in our day and age have deep negative connotations. But before you and I start to get defensive, about how we are not judges, let me paint the picture of what a beautiful and righteous judge looks like:



God makes everything come out right; 
 he puts victims back on their feet. 
He showed Moses how he went about his work, 
 opened up his plans to all Israel. 
God is sheer mercy and grace; 
 not easily angered, he’s rich in love. 
He doesn’t endlessly nag and scold, 
 nor hold grudges forever. 
He doesn’t treat us as our sins deserve, 
 nor pay us back in full for our wrongs. 
As high as heaven is over the earth, 
 so strong is his love to those who fear him. 
And as far as sunrise is from sunset, 
 he has separated us from our sins.

Psalm 103: 6-12 (MSG)



     Because, see, I don't think being a judge is a monstrous profession. In fact, I think a good judge must have a sturdy backbone, a good heart, integrity, and the ability to see the right in the wrong, and the wrong in the right and redeem those often ill-fated choices, without these characteristics, one might get drunk off of the power, and bring a severe perversion to the profession of being a judge.

     When the position of a judge is not a perversion of itself, a judge is able to set things right. To make things beautiful again, allowing justice to truly be served.

     So you see, we are like judges. We judge and discern things and people around us everyday. Our discernment and judgement does not need to be for the sake of tearing someone down, but instead for the sake of building back up what was lost and dilapidated, in the hopes of making it beautiful once again. Justice.

     But to get to justice, we must recognize what or who stands in front of us at the present time. We don't need to lie about it to ourselves or anyone else. We simply need to start with the truth.

     Are you a good judge of character?

     Honestly, I think I'm a pretty good judge of character. But lately, people have been surprising the heck out of me. Friends that I would have never guessed, have shared with me that they've stolen, cheated with married people, lied to government officials, and so on, and so on.

     I'm not gonna lie, at first, I was a bit disgusted with these people. Okay, actually a lot disgusted.

     But then, I realized my disgust couldn't be solely placed on the souls and conscience of these people, that would not bring justice back in any way. But instead, my disgust belonged on the lack of justice that had been absent their entire lives. Because often, we act unjustly, because injustice has already been done to us.

      So how do the scales of justice begin to tip correctly once again, especially when great perversion and offense has already occurred?

     I'm learning...that justice gets restored, oddly enough.... by mercy and undeserved love.





Wisdom's Knocking:

"An extravaganza before God as he comes, As he comes to set everything right on earth, Set everything right, treat everyone fair."

-Psalm 96:13




Acid Rain

     

     This morning, I had a super bizarre dream.

     It all took place at my house and in my neighborhood.

     I remember at the beginning of the dream, I was in the garage with my dad. And all of a sudden, the garage door closed by itself.

     I knew instinctively in the dream,  that it was some sort of ominous sign.

     Immediately, I began praying. The garage door opened back up again. My prayer was more or less a prayer of protection and for a deep preparation to take place in the hearts of the people in my community.

     After the prayer, I felt it was time for my dad and I to go inside the house and meet with my mom.

     We closed the garage door on our own this time and went inside.

     Moments after we were inside, it began to sprinkle outside. Nothing seemed abnormal about the rain at all.

     But all of a sudden, kids, ranging in age from 7 to about 12 years of age, began running in the streets.

     At first I thought they were simply playing in the rain, you know, like kids do.

     But no, these kids, were making sure that every house knew what was really going on outside.

     "The rain is burning!....The rain is burning!..."

     Just as fast as these kids appeared in the streets, they were gone.

     I quickly opened my front door and stepped outside.

     The rain began to hit my bare arms.

     And then, the stinging began. The rain was like fire on my skin, only after a few seconds. I quickly ran back in the house.

     I told my parents what was going on. They seemed dazed and foggy.

     But I went into a high alert mode. I wanted to make sure this acidic water didn't make it's way into our home.

     But it was too late. The rain was beginning to burn small holes in our roof. The holes seemed to form where our roof wasn't as sturdy or as well built. It became a revelation to me, to know that our roof wasn't made with the same integrity as a whole. That in the making of the house, there had been areas of the roof given less attention and care. Somehow, in the dream, my dad had already known about this (Years before the acidic rain), but had never said anything previously. In the dream, present day, with the acid rain pouring, he was ashamed.

     And then the acidic rain made it's way through the roof, into my own room and began dripping onto the carpet. I screamed for my dad. He ran back to my room, but was clueless on how to resolve this dangerous threat. This was mind boggling to me. My dad always knows how to fix anything and everything. I couldn't understand why in the dream, he had no means or ideas on how to fix this major problem.

     So I quickly grabbed a towel from our linens closet and threw it on the ground to absorb the acidic water dripping from the ceiling.

     Dad goes back to the living room to be with mom. But they seem to be in slow motion, or 2 steps behind me, in my concerns and actions.

     I look outside, the water was rising. The acidic rain was at least 3 feet high outside our house. And all I could think of was, how would we make it out alive? And if we did make it out alive, the soil, the concrete, everything around us would be toxic. What kind of life would that be??

     But I quickly shut down that train of thought and concentrated on staying alive in the moment.

     The dream got really weird, when the acidic water that had dripped in my room, now a weird puddle on the carpet, began to talk.

     Um. Yes.

     It was an eery female voice of some sort. And "she" was talking to another puddle near her. There was chilling delight in her voice. She was alluding to some sort of advantageous takeover. That this takeover was finally going to begin.

     Greeeeeat. And apparently this takeover is beginning in my room. That's unfortunate.

     Fear began to rise in my heart as I overheard this weird conversation. And just before I choked on fear completely.

     I remember seeing black.

     And then I woke up.


     WHAT THE WHAT.




Wisdom's Knocking:

"From the ends of the earth I call to You, I call as my heart grows faint;
 lead me to the Rock that is higher than I."
- Psalm 61:2