He was the King. Nations revered him. Mighty men bowed before him. Yet, as he fled from his throne, his home, from the danger to his life and the lives of his family that his own son, Absolom, presented, a kinsman of the previous king stood on a ridge above them raining down curses upon King David. One of his mighty men offered to go and stop the flood of curses with one strike of his sword. The king's answer to this proposal was a foreshadowing of the attitude the very Son of God would take when His circumstances became extremely unfavorable.
There is always something much larger than ourselves when circumstances are unfavorable. That something can be factored down to the pleasure of the Almighty. It is easy to look at all that is happenning and lose ourselves in fear and worry. The "what ifs" of life constantly try to pull us away from right living, from pleasing God with our thoughts, words, and deeds. Our human instinct is to strike back, to strive to undo the immediate effects of terrible circumstances. But in that moment we show the real stuff we are made of. We reveal whether our hearts are submitted and trusting God, or whether we are merely concerned for our present situation. We do not have to look hard for reasons to be worried, even living in the freeest society the world has ever known. Once we start down that road, trying to right all the wrongs against us, worrying about the future, despair is eminent. Crossing the chasm we want to look down, to define the danger, to try and take it all in and make sense of it with our finite, human understanding. But we are ill-suited to handle the overwhelming onslaught of trouble we see, and despair is waiting to finish us off. We speed up our own demise by giving in to that attitude.
King David's response to his mighty man's proposal denied the violent despair the place it sought to overtake. He spoke of God's will for him to be right where he was, in that tough spot, bearing up under the storm of hateful arrows. He remembered his own hateful actions, and the words of the prophet Nathan that reminded him that he was already forgiven, even though his sin had set in motion the chain of events that made him the target of angry men. Giving in to the proposal to stop the foolish curses of a man embittered by his own circumstances would be giving in to despair. And King David knew that is never God's will.
"Eloi! Eloi! Lama sabachtani!" Christ Jesus cried out from his terrible circumstances. Submitting to God's will does not mean the absence of pain and suffering. The Father planned this from the founding of the earth upon the waters. God knew the day would come when His Son would fulfill the Plan, taking the sin of the world upon His sinless shoulders. The Father knew He would have to turn His face away. It was His will. It had to be if ever there would be right relationship between Himself and the crown of His creation, humanity. Jesus could have called ten thousand angels to come to His rescue. But it was God's will that He did not. It was the God's will that He bear the horror of this incredible agony that ended His human life and freed millions of people from the bondage of sin, and from sin's result, death.
As we go through the circumstances of life, we have to raise our eyes away from despair and onto our Hope, our Way, our Life, Jesus Christ. We have to praise Him in favorable and unfavorable circumstances. We have to forgive as we have already been forgiven, and apply His mercy and grace to others who mean us harm, even in our suffering. God is not pleased that we suffer because of our sin. He is pleased when do not allow anything to come between us and Him. He knew every day we live before we were even born. This is our purpose, to please God in this way. And when we do that, we may not be happy. But He promised we will be full of joy.
Hebrews 12.1-4
5/14/12
5/11/12
seester
I imagine her standing behind the pulpit telling everyone all the sanitized dirt she has on me, while I sit there, only ashes in a really cool pot, wishing I had a hand with which to reach out and smack her. And since I imagine I'll be jumping the Great Boa before her, I thought I would take this occasion of her fortieth birthday to do some live-eulogizing.
 |
| "He's my best friend, go away!" |
We always called her Wendy Ramona (clap! clap!)! I first remember her cute little bald gerber bubble head sticking out of the middle of a puke green round baby walker. I would come over to give her a brotherly peck on that fuzzy dome, and she would reach up and grab my golden locks, pulling my head into her mushed teething biscuit... and Dad laughed. And so, the competition began. When she could walk, she would toddle around behind me everywhere I went, too good natured to pay any attention to my annoyance of her. When she got to be too annoying, I showed her my cool spot in the dryer, and how it spun around like a spaceship! She did not think it was so cool. It was probably a good thing I did not know how to turn the dryer on...
 |
| "Is it cold?" |
Presently, both of us having made homes on opposite ends of the country, I can see that, perhaps, I was not as annoyed as I pretended to be. I have always believed in her, because I knew she was a better person than me. She has excelled in every part of her life: in her career, in her marriage, and now, in her home-making and home-schooling skills. She is a faithful friend to those who return the gesture, and to those who do not. She is a faithful wife to her husband, she loves the Lord, and teaches her children to live likewise. And, at forty years old, with all the many good things that could be said about her, I say her unwavering optimistic good nature is still the best thing about her!
We still do not always see eye to eye. But, I know we will always see heart to heart. And I think she has finally learned that nothing good results from snitching on her big brother!!
I am very proud of you, Weedy. Happy fortieth, seester. I love you.
 |
| "You're both my little chubby cucarachas!" |
5/7/12
stung
I have always been the biggest source of disappointment to me. But every once in a while I am reminded I still have some competition... Recently, in attempting to lighten another's burdens, who is genuinely stuck between a rock and a hard place, I was stung by a glimpse of their worst side. It is one thing to see your own worst side. You know it is there, and you try to keep it beaten down so no one else sees it. You know eventually, somewhere, somehow, it is going to stick it's head up high enough to embarass you. But to see another's aimed at you when you are doing everything you can to try to ease their burdens in life, well, just, wow!
One of my favorite movie lines is from "A River Runs Through It," and goes like this: "Why is it that the people who need help the most won't accept it?" I'll go one further: "Why is it that people who need a true friend the most run them off at every turn?" Honestly, there was even a little back-stabbing going on. It is an ugly, ugly pain. I'm no victim, nor do I wish to sound like one. But, I feel like a big sucker, and my heart grew 3 callouses in a matter of seconds. I want to say that I will never ever purposefully leave myself that exposed again. I am wondering why I even got involved. I admit it, Sainthood does not become me, because I am still in a fog of anger and confusion over this, and I do not like it one bit.
After drinking it all in, tasting every bitterness swirling in this cup, I still wish I could make things right. You see, I am always the guy who apologizes, even when it is not my fault. OK, now I sound like an idiot instead of a victim, but it is true-the apologizing part (the idiot part I leave to the discretion of your own sound judgement). I do not know if I am more angry for going off a little bit, or for trying to help in the first place. I only know, strangely, I still feel for the person and their predicament.
God knows there are very few situations people fall in to that their ignorance and/or stupidity did not push them. I should know. I DO know. And I realize in 99 percent of those cases they NEED to feel the full force of the blow if they are to ever learn anything from it. Honestly, it usually takes several blows. And being a person who has jumped out of many, many boiling pots, my compassion moves me to try and think the better of them so they know that, even if they are completely wrong, they have someone in their corner. So, who does not appreciate an ally not asking for anything in return? A person who is possibly sufferring from Bi-Polarism.
Starring down the throat of a genuine canondrum such as this, I cannot communicate in the smallest degree my regret, reaching for remedy, because it is misunderstood. Perhaps this is a lesson in itself. Anyone? Words of wisdom, if there are any for something like this, would be well pondered and prayerfully and strategically applied. I can see none, save, don't respond in kind (yeah, oops). This entire sting operation does remind me of how massive, how invincible, how amazing, how intoxicating the grace of God is in our daily lives. Maybe that is where I should stop.
One of my favorite movie lines is from "A River Runs Through It," and goes like this: "Why is it that the people who need help the most won't accept it?" I'll go one further: "Why is it that people who need a true friend the most run them off at every turn?" Honestly, there was even a little back-stabbing going on. It is an ugly, ugly pain. I'm no victim, nor do I wish to sound like one. But, I feel like a big sucker, and my heart grew 3 callouses in a matter of seconds. I want to say that I will never ever purposefully leave myself that exposed again. I am wondering why I even got involved. I admit it, Sainthood does not become me, because I am still in a fog of anger and confusion over this, and I do not like it one bit.
After drinking it all in, tasting every bitterness swirling in this cup, I still wish I could make things right. You see, I am always the guy who apologizes, even when it is not my fault. OK, now I sound like an idiot instead of a victim, but it is true-the apologizing part (the idiot part I leave to the discretion of your own sound judgement). I do not know if I am more angry for going off a little bit, or for trying to help in the first place. I only know, strangely, I still feel for the person and their predicament.
God knows there are very few situations people fall in to that their ignorance and/or stupidity did not push them. I should know. I DO know. And I realize in 99 percent of those cases they NEED to feel the full force of the blow if they are to ever learn anything from it. Honestly, it usually takes several blows. And being a person who has jumped out of many, many boiling pots, my compassion moves me to try and think the better of them so they know that, even if they are completely wrong, they have someone in their corner. So, who does not appreciate an ally not asking for anything in return? A person who is possibly sufferring from Bi-Polarism.
Starring down the throat of a genuine canondrum such as this, I cannot communicate in the smallest degree my regret, reaching for remedy, because it is misunderstood. Perhaps this is a lesson in itself. Anyone? Words of wisdom, if there are any for something like this, would be well pondered and prayerfully and strategically applied. I can see none, save, don't respond in kind (yeah, oops). This entire sting operation does remind me of how massive, how invincible, how amazing, how intoxicating the grace of God is in our daily lives. Maybe that is where I should stop.
3/29/12
feet
Before the Passover celebration, Jesus knew that His hour had come to leave the world and return to His father. He now showed the disciples the full extent of His love. It was time for supper and the Devil had already enticed Judas Iscariot to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had given Him authority over everything, and that He had come from God and would return to God. So He got up from the table, took off His robe, wrapped a towel around His waist, and poured water into a basin. Then He began to wash the disciples' feet and wipe them with the towel. -St. John 13
Feet don't lie. Dusty fields, gravel roads, muddy river bottoms-they all stick to the feet. My Dad always knew when I had been playing in my church clothes before and after church by what stuck to my feet. Any casual observer can know where someone has been, and they can easily guess what went on there.
Jesus' demeanor had changed. Even after He plainly told His closest followers what was going to happen to Him, they did not grasp the gravity of it. They had been changed by His powerful compassion, witnessed His awesome miracles, and stared wide-eyed at His unflinching challenges to the religious leaders. And now they were watching this same God-man abase Himself as a household servant would. Dressed only in His undergarments and a towel, the Lord of Heaven of earth bent down and began to gently, carefully wash their feet, their dirty, stinking feet.
He knew their dirt. He knew their tendencies to say and do the wrong thing. He knew Peter's impulsiveness, James' and John's hot tempers, and even Judas' recent traitorous actions. He knew their overzealous nationalism, their naivite, and their passive-aggressive attitudes. He knew they were not worthy of Him, yet He did not consider it. And still, He stooped before each one, knowing the agony that was waiting just a walk and a prayer away, and He lovingly washed the most filthy parts of their bodies. Amazing! As close as He was to the most crucial moment in His human life and in human history, it is amazing that He did not claim this time as "Me" time. Instead, the Savior of the world poured Himself out, showing them the full extent of His love. And for the most part, they were oblivious to the epic display of compassion being demonstrated before them, to them, for them.
He washed their feet; feet that would keep Peter a stone's throw from men mocking, beating, killing his Master, feet that would support his denial as he walked past a crowing rooster; feet that would soon run and hide in fear for their lives at Jesus' unjust execution; feet that would keep Thomas away from fellowship with the other disciples unless his risen Lord showed him the nail scars; feet that would take them sullenly back to the life they left before Him. Jesus washed the feet that would quit on Him, in full knowledge of their relapses to come. But He still did it.
Jesus knows the darkest places we've been, and the most heinous acts we've comitted that keep us just outside real fellowship with Him and our brothers and sisters, the reason why we discount ourselves for service to Him. He's got all the dirt on us. And it is for those very things He poured Himself out, showing us the full extent of His love, because He totally believes in us. He believes in YOU!
What faith He places on such a faithless lot as us. Even believing, our feet take us backward. But, as He did not leave the disciples in their sad state, He does not leave us in our doubt, frustration, and fear. I have been involved in "feet washing" ceremonies in churches that venerate this act, and have little idea the depth of Jesus' act of service. The disciples had no idea, either, when He told them, "As I have washed your feet, so you must wash each others' feet." He wasn't talking about feet or feet washing services. He was talking about humility, service, acceptance, the true meaning of tolerance. He was telling them that the kind of love that would change the world is an all-encompassing love. He loves completely; all of whatever is good in us (nothing), all of whatever is filthy, all of it. And when those numb skull disciples got it, their feet took them to Jerusalem, and to Samaria, Damascus, Asia, Greece, Italy, Spain, India, the Isle of Patmos, and to the uttermost parts of the earth.
What will change our world? Those people you can't stand, that you don't understand, that maybe you even despise, those of different races, religions, cultures, the weak and seemingly irrelevant, those with hoodies on and baggy pants who seem hateful and disrespectful, those country bumpkins who just don't get it, those high and mighty overly-educated, those stuck on political correctness, and lost in political ignorance; you have to wash their feet. Love them completely. Invite them in. Serve them. What you do for them, you do the very same for the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Who did it all and more for us. Wash their feet.
Feet don't lie. Dusty fields, gravel roads, muddy river bottoms-they all stick to the feet. My Dad always knew when I had been playing in my church clothes before and after church by what stuck to my feet. Any casual observer can know where someone has been, and they can easily guess what went on there.
Jesus' demeanor had changed. Even after He plainly told His closest followers what was going to happen to Him, they did not grasp the gravity of it. They had been changed by His powerful compassion, witnessed His awesome miracles, and stared wide-eyed at His unflinching challenges to the religious leaders. And now they were watching this same God-man abase Himself as a household servant would. Dressed only in His undergarments and a towel, the Lord of Heaven of earth bent down and began to gently, carefully wash their feet, their dirty, stinking feet.
He knew their dirt. He knew their tendencies to say and do the wrong thing. He knew Peter's impulsiveness, James' and John's hot tempers, and even Judas' recent traitorous actions. He knew their overzealous nationalism, their naivite, and their passive-aggressive attitudes. He knew they were not worthy of Him, yet He did not consider it. And still, He stooped before each one, knowing the agony that was waiting just a walk and a prayer away, and He lovingly washed the most filthy parts of their bodies. Amazing! As close as He was to the most crucial moment in His human life and in human history, it is amazing that He did not claim this time as "Me" time. Instead, the Savior of the world poured Himself out, showing them the full extent of His love. And for the most part, they were oblivious to the epic display of compassion being demonstrated before them, to them, for them.
He washed their feet; feet that would keep Peter a stone's throw from men mocking, beating, killing his Master, feet that would support his denial as he walked past a crowing rooster; feet that would soon run and hide in fear for their lives at Jesus' unjust execution; feet that would keep Thomas away from fellowship with the other disciples unless his risen Lord showed him the nail scars; feet that would take them sullenly back to the life they left before Him. Jesus washed the feet that would quit on Him, in full knowledge of their relapses to come. But He still did it.
Jesus knows the darkest places we've been, and the most heinous acts we've comitted that keep us just outside real fellowship with Him and our brothers and sisters, the reason why we discount ourselves for service to Him. He's got all the dirt on us. And it is for those very things He poured Himself out, showing us the full extent of His love, because He totally believes in us. He believes in YOU!
What faith He places on such a faithless lot as us. Even believing, our feet take us backward. But, as He did not leave the disciples in their sad state, He does not leave us in our doubt, frustration, and fear. I have been involved in "feet washing" ceremonies in churches that venerate this act, and have little idea the depth of Jesus' act of service. The disciples had no idea, either, when He told them, "As I have washed your feet, so you must wash each others' feet." He wasn't talking about feet or feet washing services. He was talking about humility, service, acceptance, the true meaning of tolerance. He was telling them that the kind of love that would change the world is an all-encompassing love. He loves completely; all of whatever is good in us (nothing), all of whatever is filthy, all of it. And when those numb skull disciples got it, their feet took them to Jerusalem, and to Samaria, Damascus, Asia, Greece, Italy, Spain, India, the Isle of Patmos, and to the uttermost parts of the earth.
What will change our world? Those people you can't stand, that you don't understand, that maybe you even despise, those of different races, religions, cultures, the weak and seemingly irrelevant, those with hoodies on and baggy pants who seem hateful and disrespectful, those country bumpkins who just don't get it, those high and mighty overly-educated, those stuck on political correctness, and lost in political ignorance; you have to wash their feet. Love them completely. Invite them in. Serve them. What you do for them, you do the very same for the Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Who did it all and more for us. Wash their feet.
3/27/12
lies
"But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!" -Jesus Christ
Because of his heritage in the Priesthood, his social standing would always be secure, as long as he kept his head down and did what he was supposed to. In reading his story, I get the feeling that, perhaps, he did not want to go into the "family business." But, one day in the temple when he was still a tenderfoot as priests go, God called him in a very personal and unique way to bring messages to the nation of Israel. God told him that disregarding this mission was not an option, and to do so would have brought utter embarassment upon himself.
Jeremiah came to be known as the "Weeping Prophet" because all the messages God gave him to deliver were of discipline to a wayward nation. Not one convert resulted, that we know of, from his lifetime of preaching. In one place in the book that bears his name, God told him to even stop praying for this nation because their desire was only delusion. He was rarely taken seriously by the leadership of Israel, and never by the other priests. Even when his shocking prophecies began to happen, he was mocked, ridiculed, derided, and even thrown into a pit. His heart broke over and again as he watched their continued disregard for God's messages, and the scourging given them in waves by their enemy.
It is surreal to read, as my own country, built upon Godly principles by Godly, passionate men of great conviction and unbelievable sacrifice, has mocked in the face of messengers preaching confession and repentance. With every rejection of its Christian heritage, the United States of America, the greatest force of freedom and charity the world has ever known, is being scourged by its self delusion; lies. A great number among us, and in high places, want the Truth to be what they want, and not what it is.
The first and biggest lie is that our nation was not founded upon the Judeao-Christian values Divinely communicated in the Bible. We once celebrated the blessing of the Ten Commandments by placing them as stone monuments in our courthouses and government seats. Now they are removed, and every other foreign religion is recognized and venerated it their place. With the removal of this cornerstone of understanding, the minds of young men and women have been exposed to an onslaught of deception, and for many generations, now.
Among this army of lies that has been marching against the boundaries set up by our forefathers is that truth is subjective. "My truth may be different than yours..." And the greatest casualty resulting from this lie is the high value of human life. You would certainly go to jail for killing a seven year old child. But, it is perfectly legal to kill a child alive in it's mother's womb for seven months, for any or no reason at all. A child in this vulnerable stage of life is not even considered a human being at all, according to the courts of this land, predjudicially hearing only the scientific voices that echo this "liberal" agenda.
These lies have been perpetrated on a selfish and naive public by the vehicle of the "Tolerance" Doctrine. It goes like this: 'You may not believe this way, but this is the land of the free. Therefore, you cannot fault others for their beliefs, that are greatly deviated from what used to be known as right and true, and what was originally intended...' And now it has progressed to this: 'If you believe something different than what "we"- (secularly educated, politically correct ruling class elite) believe, keep it to yourself.' Logically, the next progression in this line of illogical reason will go: 'You had better just throw out your Bible moorings, and its connections to the Founding Documents, because none of them are relevant to the culture and life in 2012. You are stupid, we are smart.' Another way to put it is the Tolerance Doctrine is a movement of mind control rather than tolerance. ' Think like us, and you will be tolerated."
We have removed the boundary markers of old; Godly wisdom has been replaced with transient relativism. We are governed by lawlessness dressed in judges' robes. The light within us is lost, darkened. And because these "new" Americans for "hope" and "change" love darkness, the light that exposes their evil will continue to be progressively constricted and choked until no one can see anything at all.
Because of his heritage in the Priesthood, his social standing would always be secure, as long as he kept his head down and did what he was supposed to. In reading his story, I get the feeling that, perhaps, he did not want to go into the "family business." But, one day in the temple when he was still a tenderfoot as priests go, God called him in a very personal and unique way to bring messages to the nation of Israel. God told him that disregarding this mission was not an option, and to do so would have brought utter embarassment upon himself.
Jeremiah came to be known as the "Weeping Prophet" because all the messages God gave him to deliver were of discipline to a wayward nation. Not one convert resulted, that we know of, from his lifetime of preaching. In one place in the book that bears his name, God told him to even stop praying for this nation because their desire was only delusion. He was rarely taken seriously by the leadership of Israel, and never by the other priests. Even when his shocking prophecies began to happen, he was mocked, ridiculed, derided, and even thrown into a pit. His heart broke over and again as he watched their continued disregard for God's messages, and the scourging given them in waves by their enemy.
It is surreal to read, as my own country, built upon Godly principles by Godly, passionate men of great conviction and unbelievable sacrifice, has mocked in the face of messengers preaching confession and repentance. With every rejection of its Christian heritage, the United States of America, the greatest force of freedom and charity the world has ever known, is being scourged by its self delusion; lies. A great number among us, and in high places, want the Truth to be what they want, and not what it is.
The first and biggest lie is that our nation was not founded upon the Judeao-Christian values Divinely communicated in the Bible. We once celebrated the blessing of the Ten Commandments by placing them as stone monuments in our courthouses and government seats. Now they are removed, and every other foreign religion is recognized and venerated it their place. With the removal of this cornerstone of understanding, the minds of young men and women have been exposed to an onslaught of deception, and for many generations, now.
Among this army of lies that has been marching against the boundaries set up by our forefathers is that truth is subjective. "My truth may be different than yours..." And the greatest casualty resulting from this lie is the high value of human life. You would certainly go to jail for killing a seven year old child. But, it is perfectly legal to kill a child alive in it's mother's womb for seven months, for any or no reason at all. A child in this vulnerable stage of life is not even considered a human being at all, according to the courts of this land, predjudicially hearing only the scientific voices that echo this "liberal" agenda.
These lies have been perpetrated on a selfish and naive public by the vehicle of the "Tolerance" Doctrine. It goes like this: 'You may not believe this way, but this is the land of the free. Therefore, you cannot fault others for their beliefs, that are greatly deviated from what used to be known as right and true, and what was originally intended...' And now it has progressed to this: 'If you believe something different than what "we"- (secularly educated, politically correct ruling class elite) believe, keep it to yourself.' Logically, the next progression in this line of illogical reason will go: 'You had better just throw out your Bible moorings, and its connections to the Founding Documents, because none of them are relevant to the culture and life in 2012. You are stupid, we are smart.' Another way to put it is the Tolerance Doctrine is a movement of mind control rather than tolerance. ' Think like us, and you will be tolerated."
We have removed the boundary markers of old; Godly wisdom has been replaced with transient relativism. We are governed by lawlessness dressed in judges' robes. The light within us is lost, darkened. And because these "new" Americans for "hope" and "change" love darkness, the light that exposes their evil will continue to be progressively constricted and choked until no one can see anything at all.
3/13/12
you
"The real you is on the side of God, against the false self." -John Eldredge
Who are you, really? It is a question I have asked myself all my life. When I was in twelfth grade I wrote a poem as an assignment in Creative Writing class. I drew as a title "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?" In the process of writing this, I had an epiphany. This question had been the declaration of my life, and up to that point I was oblivious to it. As I began to look deep within, the words came, line on line, about the identity I thought was stolen from me because of the tragic and early death of my father when I was four years old. It was a poem from that four year old's perspective about the flowers being pulled from his father's coffin, and the hole (grave) the coffin was lowered into. The last line was, "What happens to us now, Mommy? Do we go in that hole, too?"
I always felt gyped at having the man who's DNA I carry stripped away from my life. I bore resentment toward God, even though He was gracious enough, I know it now, to replace him with a man with faults of his own, but who loved God with a passion, and who ultimately loved and raised two children not his own as though they were. I felt utterly alone all my adolescent years because I was unwilling to accept the full answer to my question could ever come from anyone else but my biological father. The reason for such strong feelings is tied to the close relationship we had shared. For many months after the accident I would tell my mother to drive the car off the Causeway bridge as we rode between our house and New Orleans, so that I could die and go see my Daddy. It was twenty years before I could emerge from that metaphoric hole.
Those were turbulent years, growing up, that culminated in my looking for the answer to that question by exploring spiritual taboos and a rather debauchic lifestyle. My false self led me to some dark places. But God was there all the time, preserving my life amid my own foolishness and the devilry I dabbled in. He placed people in some very strategic places who would gently remind me of my real self, speaking His truth into my troubled soul. Somehow, that amount of faith, that God gives every person, began to take root and grow in me, though it has had a rough time of it.
There is the "you" that was born of the earth because of the union of your mother and father. I knew my mother's family, of dutch-irish descent; strong roots that reach back to the Burkes of New York, and farther to the north of Ireland. I have recently discovered that my father's family migrated from England to South Carolina, then all across the deep South to Mississippi and Louisiana. They were mostly farmers, strong stock. But it was not enough. It did not answer the deeper questions.
No matter your ancestry, there is the "you" that God created, wove together in your mother's womb. The earth "you" is of the earth, finite, born ultimately to die. The real "you" is in the image of God, His artful expression on the canvas of the universe. It is the place in us where God placed eternity. The real "you" is what God meant by your existence. Your personality, abilities, and uniqueness was conceived in God's mind. As every snowflake is completely unique in design, there has never been, nor will there ever be another "you."
After forty-two years of living, I am well along the path of realizing the answer to my question. I know the false self looks for the answer in the things that tether us to the earth and the finite-ancestry, finances, social status, education, etc. But the real "you" is elevated, in a place beyond these temporal things. That path begins with knowing where you really come from and Whose you really are. It starts with an epiphany and a confession that ingnites a relationship with the Lord of eternity. As you walk with Him, He whispers the answer little by little. As you listen, the false self is exposed and overthrown, little by little. We cannot understand it all while on this earth, for we see as through a glass, dimly. But when we see Him, we will know completely and we will live and be, fully and finally, who we really are.
Who are you, really? It is a question I have asked myself all my life. When I was in twelfth grade I wrote a poem as an assignment in Creative Writing class. I drew as a title "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?" In the process of writing this, I had an epiphany. This question had been the declaration of my life, and up to that point I was oblivious to it. As I began to look deep within, the words came, line on line, about the identity I thought was stolen from me because of the tragic and early death of my father when I was four years old. It was a poem from that four year old's perspective about the flowers being pulled from his father's coffin, and the hole (grave) the coffin was lowered into. The last line was, "What happens to us now, Mommy? Do we go in that hole, too?"
I always felt gyped at having the man who's DNA I carry stripped away from my life. I bore resentment toward God, even though He was gracious enough, I know it now, to replace him with a man with faults of his own, but who loved God with a passion, and who ultimately loved and raised two children not his own as though they were. I felt utterly alone all my adolescent years because I was unwilling to accept the full answer to my question could ever come from anyone else but my biological father. The reason for such strong feelings is tied to the close relationship we had shared. For many months after the accident I would tell my mother to drive the car off the Causeway bridge as we rode between our house and New Orleans, so that I could die and go see my Daddy. It was twenty years before I could emerge from that metaphoric hole.
Those were turbulent years, growing up, that culminated in my looking for the answer to that question by exploring spiritual taboos and a rather debauchic lifestyle. My false self led me to some dark places. But God was there all the time, preserving my life amid my own foolishness and the devilry I dabbled in. He placed people in some very strategic places who would gently remind me of my real self, speaking His truth into my troubled soul. Somehow, that amount of faith, that God gives every person, began to take root and grow in me, though it has had a rough time of it.
There is the "you" that was born of the earth because of the union of your mother and father. I knew my mother's family, of dutch-irish descent; strong roots that reach back to the Burkes of New York, and farther to the north of Ireland. I have recently discovered that my father's family migrated from England to South Carolina, then all across the deep South to Mississippi and Louisiana. They were mostly farmers, strong stock. But it was not enough. It did not answer the deeper questions.
No matter your ancestry, there is the "you" that God created, wove together in your mother's womb. The earth "you" is of the earth, finite, born ultimately to die. The real "you" is in the image of God, His artful expression on the canvas of the universe. It is the place in us where God placed eternity. The real "you" is what God meant by your existence. Your personality, abilities, and uniqueness was conceived in God's mind. As every snowflake is completely unique in design, there has never been, nor will there ever be another "you."
After forty-two years of living, I am well along the path of realizing the answer to my question. I know the false self looks for the answer in the things that tether us to the earth and the finite-ancestry, finances, social status, education, etc. But the real "you" is elevated, in a place beyond these temporal things. That path begins with knowing where you really come from and Whose you really are. It starts with an epiphany and a confession that ingnites a relationship with the Lord of eternity. As you walk with Him, He whispers the answer little by little. As you listen, the false self is exposed and overthrown, little by little. We cannot understand it all while on this earth, for we see as through a glass, dimly. But when we see Him, we will know completely and we will live and be, fully and finally, who we really are.
3/5/12
living
Having a functional respiratory system and pulse are good signs, as is gainful occupation. But they do not define living. Max Lucado calls it the 'sweet spot.' It is being in the progression, on the path God means for you, fulfilling God's (the artist's) idea of you (His art, expression). When you are in that 'sweet spot,' there exists a serenity and satisfaction unequaled in all experience, a peace that goes beyond our finite understanding. Not that everything is right or according to plan, not without challenge, or even trouble. Its a place of being; in right relationship with your Originator, God. When you are in that place, "doing" is not of any consequence, except your doing flows out of your heart. In getting to that place, you have grappled with your truths, pleasant and otherwise, and have attained the quiet peace as a result of spending time with God in the secret place. In secular vernacular, it is Nirvana, Zen, the calm space in the middle of a hurricane.
When Jesus told his rag-tag twelve, "Because I live, you will also live," He was at the end of three years of the most successful ministry there ever was. The cross was just around the corner, and He knew it. What society of His time knew as the epidemy of dishonor and shame-crucifixion-was Jesus' last and eternal declaration of victory over everything that would keep us bound to existence without true life. Jesus continued, "In this world you will have trouble. The world hates me, and it will hate you because of me. But take heart! I have overcome the world!!"
Synonomous with true living, living in that 'sweet spot' is OVERCOMING, and that is not without heartache, pain, trials, tests, things that just do not even make sense to human reasoning. People you think the world of will let you down. You will be a source of disappointment to someone, even if you do everything 100% right, which you will not do. Mary, Jesus' mother, who was 'highly favored of God' was disappointed and embarrassed by Jesus and sought him out to tell him so, a few times. Her very heart was metaphorically 'pierced through with a sword' as she watched in horror Jesus' false condemnation, beating, mocking, being spit upon, beating again, then being nailed to our cross. His resurrection was His ultimate declaration of victory over all those incredibly trying and painful low spots. Simply, there is no overcoming without pain.
But the lives that touch ours, that we touch when we are full-on bustin' it in that 'sweet spot,' they are impacted, as we are. The beauty of the Life that is in Christ is many faceted. It is more than being blessed with wealth, fame, and influence. It is changing the hearts of others because you had the guts to obey what Jesus whispers to you in that secret place, overcoming, by His power, all the trouble that WILL come because of that obedience. It is bringing that raging peace to others by giving up on what we hoped to accomplish for what God wants to accomplish with us, through us. Those twelve gnarly men, a varitable motley crew of nobodies and epic losers, turned the whole world on its ear! What will He do to your world, dare you look your truth in the eye, speak His truth into it, and leap at His bidding? Because He lives, we live, really live. Because we live, others will live forever to the praise and glory of The Originator and Reigning King of Kings. Now, that's LIVING!!!
When Jesus told his rag-tag twelve, "Because I live, you will also live," He was at the end of three years of the most successful ministry there ever was. The cross was just around the corner, and He knew it. What society of His time knew as the epidemy of dishonor and shame-crucifixion-was Jesus' last and eternal declaration of victory over everything that would keep us bound to existence without true life. Jesus continued, "In this world you will have trouble. The world hates me, and it will hate you because of me. But take heart! I have overcome the world!!"
Synonomous with true living, living in that 'sweet spot' is OVERCOMING, and that is not without heartache, pain, trials, tests, things that just do not even make sense to human reasoning. People you think the world of will let you down. You will be a source of disappointment to someone, even if you do everything 100% right, which you will not do. Mary, Jesus' mother, who was 'highly favored of God' was disappointed and embarrassed by Jesus and sought him out to tell him so, a few times. Her very heart was metaphorically 'pierced through with a sword' as she watched in horror Jesus' false condemnation, beating, mocking, being spit upon, beating again, then being nailed to our cross. His resurrection was His ultimate declaration of victory over all those incredibly trying and painful low spots. Simply, there is no overcoming without pain.
But the lives that touch ours, that we touch when we are full-on bustin' it in that 'sweet spot,' they are impacted, as we are. The beauty of the Life that is in Christ is many faceted. It is more than being blessed with wealth, fame, and influence. It is changing the hearts of others because you had the guts to obey what Jesus whispers to you in that secret place, overcoming, by His power, all the trouble that WILL come because of that obedience. It is bringing that raging peace to others by giving up on what we hoped to accomplish for what God wants to accomplish with us, through us. Those twelve gnarly men, a varitable motley crew of nobodies and epic losers, turned the whole world on its ear! What will He do to your world, dare you look your truth in the eye, speak His truth into it, and leap at His bidding? Because He lives, we live, really live. Because we live, others will live forever to the praise and glory of The Originator and Reigning King of Kings. Now, that's LIVING!!!
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