Breathe

Lungs ache from lack of air.  The mind starts to fog over.  Survival instincts kick in - the arms and legs thrash, seeking a way to the surface ... any way.  Panic grabs the throat.  

Breathing is essential.  Out.  In.  Again.  Involuntary.  

Someone - I forget who - likened prayer to spiritual breathing once.  I like that analogy.  Out with the bad air.  In with the good.  Constant, life-giving air.  Prayer.  The oxygen of the spirit.  

I think that if I were to have a new year's resolution it might be this... to make prayer - conversation with God - as automatic as breathing.  

Regardless of the circumstances, to lift up every moment to Him, in gratitude or in doubt, to tell Him everything - and listen for His response.  

I wonder - I just wonder what might happen.  How my everyday life would change.  Where that conversation might lead me.  What new depths in Him I might plumb. Who might cross my path - or whose path I might be led to cross. 

Only He knows.

Dying in the Water

I was chatting with a friend recently about how some people are attracted to brokenness - and not in a good way.  My friend came out with the most profound statement, "Well, when you're bleeding, you attract either the sharks or the leeches."  I immediately knew exactly what my friend meant.  I've experienced both.

The sharks are those who enter into relationships with me because they know they can lord it over me, and I'll take it.  They 'take a piece out of me' every time they're with me and I take so much before fighting back. Then they go away (if I'm lucky) and wait for me to get over my anger, then apologize - I forgive them - and then they start all over again. They feel that they have the right to tell me how to live, what to do next, what I should have done, how to raise my children, and so forth. When I haven't accepted what they've said, they've gone to other sharks and engaged in the team sport known as 'backbiting.' (That's the fastest way to ruin someone's reputation, by the way.)  I've had to remove myself from harm's way more than once in such situations - and not worry about the fallout or what others might think; it was a matter of survival.  I think it's called 'setting boundaries.'   

The leeches are those who latch on - whose need attaches itself to the place I am already bleeding - and they slowly drain my energy.  I get sucked in (pardon the pun) because they are usually wounded in the same places as I am, but the difference seems to be that I am in a process of healing and want to get better, whereas they appear not to be interested in that, but rather in gaining endless confirmation that their situation is unbearably horrible, that they are wonderful people (which - I must admit - they are, if they'd only believe that!) and that things will work out for the best. Of course they don't believe me and I keep affirming them.  It wears me out - drains my energy - just like having a leech attached to me all the time.  

I've had to walk away from that kind of relationship as well. And it hurts. 

Whether attacked by a shark or latched onto by a leech, the bottom line is that a person only has so much blood.  Eventually - you're dead in the water.  For most of my life I was the leech - sometimes I was the shark - and always I wondered why people wouldn't stay in relationships with me.  Now that I've experienced it for myself, I understand how unhealthy that is, how trapped people can feel in such relationships, and why those people withdrew themselves from me. I can speak from first-hand experience now. It's too draining, being the source of constant affirmation for someone; it's like they've given me the place of God in their life.  That's not good for them and it's not good for me. 

I'm even wondering at this point what I'm even doing IN the water for that matter.  As long as I stay there, the original wounds won't close over and heal.  As long as I look to relationships with people to give me what I need, whether that's affirmation or a sense that I'm helping someone by giving them 'advice' - I will remain in my brokenness and will fall prey to more of the same.  

Perhaps the answer isn't in the water.  Perhaps the answer is in the One who walks on it.  

Through Him, I've been led to friendships with amazing people who (instead of looking up to me or looking down on me) treat me as an equal.  In intimate relationship with Him, I have found the ultimate affirmation - that unconditional love - and a security that allows me to be able to let go of the need to control people or outcomes. To be myself and know that it's enough.  To do what I need to look after myself and my relationship with Him - and know that it's okay to do that, even if it means saying no to things others might consider 'good'.  To not apologize for existing.  To stand up for the rights of the oppressed - even if the oppressed is me.  To accept the things and people (all people) over which I have no control.  To take steps to change the things and the person (that's me) that I can change. To not look to people to meet my emotional needs - for only One can fully meet them.

It's taken me a while to figure it out - and sometimes I still can't quite do it the way I want to or as quickly as I need to - but I'm learning to lift my hand up above the water and burble out, "Lord, rescue me! I'm dying!"

And He does.

The Film

I'm not even aware that it's there...an imperceptible film, like a skin over my eyes, my heart, my mind.  I can function with it there.  It doesn't hinder me . . . much.  Hardly noticeable in fact.  And I carry on.  

It's not intentional.  It's not direct rebellion. It's just - there.  And I think that nothing's wrong.  The longer it's there, though, the easier it is for the next layer of filmy residue, again undetectable, to deposit itself on my spirit.  

I coast.  I think I'm okay.  But I'm not. And I don't know it.  

The first inkling I have that something is "off" is how I hear someone tearing someone else down, and I don't walk away because I'm not too fond of the victim either. It tickles my itchy ears.  I snicker.  

A few minutes later, I feel sort of down in the dumps.  But I don't make the connection.  

Within a short while, before I even realize it, I'm not only snickering, I'm joining in.  And then I go back to what I was doing - and feel a withdrawing in my insides, like a blossom withering.  The divine presence inside me, the one I say I've given first place, is weeping in silence, feeling abandoned, alone, unloved.

And I still don't know how I got there.  

Little foxes, the writer of Song of Solomon called them.  Little compromises, things that go undiscovered, that sneak in under the leaves and wreak havoc, can erode intimacy with God, undermine relationship with the self, poison relationships with others.  They come from complacency, from routine, from boredom, from the lullabye the enemy sings so softly I am barely aware of it - the song says that it's okay, it's only a joke, it's only this once, it's only a few minutes.  

The film builds and builds.  Unseen by me, the infestation grows and leaves more sludge on my soul. I wonder why God seems so distant.  Why He doesn't seem to hear me when I speak to Him.  

He hears.  I just don't hear HIM.  

If I were just to listen to my heart's desire, I think to myself. If I were only to go into the trysting place with Him - just for a few minutes, just this once, just resting in His arms, just looking into His eyes.  Then the film would dissolve, the sun would shine through unhindered, the freedom would come, the glory would fall.  But I'm too busy.  I have this thing to do, that thing to read, the other thing to write.  And before long I am left boarding up the windows in my old place and wandering around aimlessly, knowing I need to be doing something but not knowing what it is - in a daze, as if I'm in the poppy fields of Oz, and all I want to do is sleep.  

But there's a small voice - barely sounding like a whisper because the film has muffled and dulled it - calling to me from the inside.  If I begin to look after my spirit, hydrate it with music, feed it with truth, take care of my inner self, the film starts to dissolve. The voice grows a bit louder.  I pay attention.  A strange peace comes - little by little - that is not dependent upon the circumstances of who did what to whom, of how much money I have or don't have, of the crazy pace leading up to the holidays.Then I recognize the voice.  


It is the voice of unconditional Love.

All That Matters

Dallas Holm, songwriter, wrote these words many years ago:  "All that matters in this life below is not what you are, or how much you know. All the world's knowledge can make the mind smart but the difference is made in the heart."

It's as true now as it was then; it always has been.  

A couple of days ago, four young people lost their lives on a country road in southern Alberta.  A young gunman shot four people and then turned the gun on himself.  Only one of the victims survived to tell the tale.  At this moment, this lone survivor is recovering from gunshot wounds in hospital, family present, and friends sending messages from all across the country. Folks have rallied all around the families of ALL the people who died as well, whether they be the family of the aggressor or of the victims. 

It's at times like this that people acknowledge what's most important and let petty things go, like who's wearing what to the party and what so-and-so said about the neighbor's dog.  (Just so you know, these are random imagined scenarios and bear no resemblance to any one person's situation).  

The things that matter are those things which will last.  People - the beings who live inside the flesh-shells we call bodies - will last.  What happens to those entities matters.  That's why God invested so much in us.  That's why Jesus came.

And that's why we celebrate it.  If He had not come, there would have been no hope for mankind.  None at all.  Just an outside-in religion (that is, effort to appease the divine) which might work and might not.  But Jesus came to make a way to God so that people - the part that lives forever - could spend that forever with Him instead of in darkness. To Him, THAT is all that matters.

Busy Busy

One of the most common hindrances to peace and joy in intimate relationship with God is the busy - some would say frantic - lifestyle we lead in the Western world.  

Times are tough.  Couples usually need to have two incomes to stay afloat financially. Add church (more time if one is in ministry than if one isn't), children, their school, homework, and extracurricular activities, and a person might feel like he or she doesn't have the time to turn around, much less spend time with God.  

And stresses abound.  The fact is, especially this time of year, there are things that we feel that we "must" do - or it "just isn't the same".  But one person's definition of insanity is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results. 

I was talking to one person today who has too much to do for Christmas and too little time to do it, yet expects no help at all from spouse or children.  "They wouldn't help, and even if they wanted to, they wouldn't know how."  The person sighed.   

Wow.  Merry Christmas...and pass the Nexium! (ulcer medication)

At some point, it is necessary to sit down and prioritize all activities so that only the most crucial are done and the rest will need to be either dropped - or delegated.  State how long the activity takes.  Assign a number of importance, from one to three, to each activity, and an initial for each member of the family that is capable of performing said task.  The list might look something like this (fictitious tasks used):

Christmas 2011
 - - - - - -  (Dec 23, 24)
-  Shopping for ingredients (1.5 hours) - 1 - N, J
-  Baking pumpkin pies  (2 hours)  - 2   - J, A
-  Baking apple pies  (2 hours)  - 2 - J (A can peel)
-  Cookies, various kinds  (4 hours) - 3   - J, A, K
  - - - - - -  (Dec 25)
-  Tidying kitchen, dining room (2 hours) - 1 - J, A, K
-  Peeling vegetables (30 minutes) - 1   - J, A, N, K, B
-  Making dressing ( 30 minutes)   -  1   -  J, N
-  Stuffing turkey, putting in oven (30 min) -  1 -  J, N
-  Washing dishes (1 hour +/-)   - 3   -  J, N, A, K, B
-  Keeping counters clear (occ)   - 2   -  J, N, A, K, B
-  Setting table for dinner (15 min)- 1 - J, N, A, K, B
-  Making mulled cider  (2 hours) - 3 - J, N, A, B

You see?  Armed with that information, and some honesty about how it is impossible for you to do it all, it is time for a family meeting so that all comes together and that people understand the situation and what it would mean for you to get some help.  (This - of course - assumes that you have family members that are willing to help.)  Then, decide which activities you are willing to drop, and which ones will be delegated - or changed (for example, buying egg nog instead of mulling apple cider).  Make a schedule if necessary, who gets to use the oven when, for instance. See how the stress drops off?  If instructions are necessary, then write them out for each person and be available to answer questions when the time comes. But ... resist the temptation to take over.  

And (this is important) NeVeR forget to say thank you!

I've used a very minor example of getting help over a three-day period.  It could be used in getting help with a weekly schedule on a regular basis, too.

The point of all this delegation is to relieve the stress associated with having too much to do, PLUS to give you more time to spend with God, and with each other.

You might be surprised at how much you enjoy yourself. Hm.  I think I'll try this myself.  ;D

Baggage Handler

"Can I carry your bags, m'um?"


What a relief to give a heavy load to someone else to carry after having carried it for any length of time.  The longer you've carried it, the more of a relief it is when it's finally taken off your hands.

Some of us Christians have a great big load we carry around. A good bit of it has been handed to us by others in our pasts. Some of us have been forced to carry that load by the expectations placed on us by the church - or by one or more leaders in the church over a short (or longer) period.  Still others by our families.  Even more by a spouse or a child who is needy and dysfunctional.  Whatever the case, I would tend to argue that pretty much everyone has some sort of baggage.  


Jesus is the best baggage handler in the universe.  All we need to do - in response to His offer to take our burdens - is give them to Him.  Completely.  No strings, no hanging on, and no taking them back.  (Easier said than done).  The saying, "Let go and let God" is so true - and even though we say we have given Him our baggage, we end up picking it up again.  


Isaiah 61 contains a prophecy that was fulfilled in the hearing of the people of Nazareth when Jesus stood up to read it.  It's the one that starts out, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because He has anointed me ..." and part of that promise is, "...to give to those who mourn in Zion, to grant them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, that they might be trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified."  (Is. 61:1 - 3)  


It's a straight trade.  We give Him our ashes - and then we gain His beauty.  We cannot have His beauty if we insist on hanging on to our ashes.  It doesn't work like that.  


I must admit I struggle with this.  I've gotten a lot of human comfort by hanging onto my ashes and having people pity me for the horrible predicaments and living conditions I have experienced. Including myself.  


But when I remember that His beauty is better... when I let go of the need to play the victim and get people to try to fix me (leaving that to Him because it's HIS job) then He handles my baggage and I am able to know peace, gratitude, love.  To the extent that I let go, I will find that He takes over not only the care of my baggage - but He unpacks it too.

With friends like you -

With friends like you, the saying goes, I don't need enemies.  

I know people whose idea of friendship involves:
-  intimidation
-  manipulation
-  control
-  power trips
-  using people to stroke their own ego via guilt trips, bragging, or insecurity and/or
-  not having to say they're sorry - ever.

I know other people whose idea of friendship involves: 
-  hanging out with the other person doing nothing but activities which the person wants (forcing the other to go along with it)
-  never wanting to talk about the serious stuff 
-  thrill-seeking, fun-mongering
-  sharing an addiction (drinking, smoking, drugs) or
-  gossiping about other people.


I know still others, and I prefer their company, whose idea of friendship involves:
-  talking about matters of the heart and the human spirit
-  treating the other person with respect
-  acceptance:  being who they are and allowing others to be who they are
-  seeking consensus on an activity without succumbing to the temptation to use peer or political pressure, and
-  seeking the other person's well-being.

Smashing the Shrines

Interesting.

Usually that's the comment people have when I start talking about smashing idols.  The first people I know about that did this were the Pharaohs of Egypt.  They would destroy all statues and cartouches of any predecessor who did not conform to the established imperial norm - think of the efforts made to eradicate all evidence of the existence of Queen Hatshepsut - the only female Pharaoh.  

Then there were the kings of Israel.  When the people of Israel (I'm talking Old Testament here) had strayed into idol-worship, and a new king came along who honoured the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the new king ordered the destruction of the shrines, the worship groves, and the child-sacrifice sites. 

Much later, a group called the Iconoclasts went around after Constantine declared Christianity the state religion in the 300's, and destroyed the statues of the Greek and Roman gods and Roman emperors - especially removing their genitalia, and for some reason ... their noses.  The word iconoclast means "Idol destroyer" in Greek.  Since then, the word iconoclast has come to mean any person who bucks the established pre-conceived notions of a specific group, or political system, or belief, or art form, or ... whatever.
  
I'm an iconoclast at heart.   I don't see why certain things have to be just because they've always been that way.  So even if I don't always say so in person or at the time, I often question and ponder the practices and motivations of the status quo.


This doesn't mean I believe in change for change's sake.  There are some traditions, some beliefs, that are non-negotiable.  In the Christian faith, the doctrines of the virgin birth, the substitutionary death and the bodily resurrection of Jesus, and the Second Coming are non-negotiable.  


But as to HOW we do what we do as Christians, WHY we do it at times - I think scrutiny is warranted.  


So, with this in mind, I'm about ready to start smashing some shrines.