... and the crick don't rise

"A man's heart devises his way, but the LORD directs his steps." - Prov. 16:3

"... you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live, and do this or that.'..." - James 4:15

An old tag (end of sentence) goes, "be the good Lord willin' and the crick don't rise." Folks said it after planning to meet again next week or next month, etc. The saying was an acknowledgement that nobody is promised more than the moment they are living in, and that God is sovereign. By sovereign, I mean that He chooses what happens in spite of our plans. Sometimes the things we plan happen, and sometimes they don't. Either way, it is God who decides how things will play out.

I have had constant reminders of this fact the last couple of years, mostly to do with my schooling. A planned practicum in the fall of 2018 led to a failed practicum and me having to put it off until the following fall, looking for a new site. Once I found one that was perfect, things were in place when all of a sudden one of the main participants became very ill, and needed to extricate himself from all non-essential commitments. Thus, again, I had to defer my practicum.

Photo by misterfarmer at Pixabay

And now it is 2020. By God's grace, the arrangement from last year has held, tentatively, since nobody knows what life will look like later this year (with COVID-19 being such a reality in our world). But even before the virus, I determined to hold such things lightly, and to leave the final decision to the Only One who sees the end from the beginning. It's an exercise in faith for sure!

As I've been preparing for "whatever God has" (as my formerly sick mentor put it recently), I've been doing some reading about the call of God to each believer to 'incarnate Christ' (yes, used as a verb!) to those around us who may be in need of His help. That requires that I have a vibrant and vital relationship with Jesus. More and more I am seeing how I have needed this time of waiting in order to step back from all I thought I knew, and to re-learn how I can be an instrument in God's hands. I am called to be the embodiment of Jesus to those who need to see Him and know Him in a more intimate way. I am one of His ambassadors - called to act on His behalf the way He would: with love, acceptance, and compassion.

And thank God, I have the power to do that - as do all believers - because of the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit. Without Him, I would be totally unequal to such a task.  This isn't just words. It's breath ... life ... living. I'm challenged to seek His glory above my own. I'm willing to open myself to Him in intimacy. All those things I have always wanted as a believer can be realities as long as I align myself with His desire for me: a love-bond with Him. Only then can I be a part of the overflow of His presence into others' lives at their point of need.

I truly hope that "the crick don't rise" this time.  And I know that even if it does, He's got this.

He always has.

Here - Through it all

Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You;
Through it all, through it all it is well.
Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You,
And it is well ... with me.  (c) Kristene DiMarco, Bethel Music

I just finished reading an amazing article. It's about photographs taken from INSIDE THE EYE of Hurricane Dorian while it was still a Category 2 Hurricane off the coast of the United States. 

It's full of birds. All kinds of birds!  Flying, sitting in the still water if they are able to swim, resting on anything that floats if they can't swim, they stay in the eye of the storm until it makes landfall, where they stay. If ships are in the eye of the storm, they rest on the ship.  

Amazing.  

This is a photo of Tropical Cyclone Catarina,
clearly showing the eye of the storm, courtesy of
a contributor to Pixabay.com

The analogy is plain between this image and the storms of life, so I won't belabour it here. But the mental picture of the eye of the storm being calm and a refuge for those caught in it ... is a powerful one. I can think of several incidents, not only in my life but in those of others, where this is the reality: we have stayed in the midst of turbulent circumstances and yet there has been an inner calm, a 'peace that surpasses all understanding' (Phil 4:7), that has steadied us and been a refuge for us. It's not that we are unaffected by the storm at all, it's just that our  focus has been on the One who is the Centre of all things. 

I've experienced a real hurricane before. Hurricane Juan (Sept. 29, 2003) visited our province and caused all kinds of damage to property, shoreline, and power lines.  We had not been listening to or watching the news for the previous few days, and I had been on vacation so away from the office grapevine, so we were totally unprepared. During the fury of the storm that morning, my husband and I felt we had to go outside because water was pouring over the edges of our rain gutters. 

We were soaked to the skin within two seconds, and we got the ladder out anyway. I held the extension ladder while hubby went up and cleared out the debris from the gutters, a job that we have since learned must be done in mid-summer. The rain and wind were blinding; the wind itself ripped our breath away from us, and we had to keep our chins tucked down to our chests to be able to breathe. And we were only out there for about five minutes. We lost three of our eleven shade trees in that storm. 

In hindsight, it was kind of crazy of us to venture outside. But we did experience the strength of a Category 1 hurricane - as least as much as we ever want to (if we wanted to, which I doubt). I'll never forget it. 

Yet, through it all, we were protected. We discovered a large, one-foot-in-diameter tree limb suspended in the maple tree that was right next to our house. It had been ripped off one of our other trees and became a projectile that was hurtling right at our picture window. And the maple tree's limbs caught it and didn't allow it to travel further. A mini-tornado (common in hurricanes, I've been told) landed on one of our other large shade trees (60 feet tall) and twisted it at the trunk as if it was a matchstick, slamming it onto the lawn. That tree was about 25 feet from our front door. When it hit the ground, it hit at an angle about 60 degrees to the house, so it missed us completely, still tethered by a portion of its own trunk to the ground. 

As I ponder this event, I am overwhelmed by a sense of divine protection - even in our ignorance - during Juan's devastating visit. And as Hurricane Dorian nears our province later today, I am trusting in God's protection for us and our home and property. 

And for the storms of our lives and circumstances, I am trusting that same kind of protection in the emotional and spiritual sense. I know we are in the Centre. 

So it's all good. Through it all, it is well ... with me. With us. 
He is here in the midst.

More Light

Earlier this summer, we decided to replace the doors in our house. 

It was no small change. The frames around the doors were so rotted that they also had to be replaced, so we thought that this was a good time to get doors that not only were more energy-efficient, but also more secure (with a built-in deadbolt) and that were attractive as well. 

We spent considerable time choosing a design that we could all agree upon, and finally settled on one that allowed us a bit more privacy (without the need for curtains) but that also let in more light.  It costed more, but the final effect has been so nice. 

The windows in the doors are partly made of pebbled glass - hence the privacy without the need for drapery (which also makes for more light) - but the edges of the glass pattern insert are made of beveled glass. That edging has had an effect that we did not anticipate: when the sun is shining through the glass, it acts like a prism, and we have cross-sections of rainbows in our home every sunny morning and every sunny afternoon. 

Photo "Heaven Light From Sun Behind Clouds"
courtesy of criminalatt at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Rainbows always speak to me of mercy - undeserved favor - and I remember the scripture in the Psalms that says something like, "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness..." 

It's funny, but the more I stay away from religious people (and by religious people I mean those typical folks that believe "God is good, I'm bad; I must try harder"), the more I can clearly see the mercy and grace of God in everyday occurrences, the lavish, extravagant love of God, and the fallacy of trying to earn brownie points. I spent a lifetime trying to make God like me more, never feeling like I measured up, never feeling as though I was doing "enough" - and living life on that endless hamster wheel of fear, performance, and shame. Since taking time away from that system to experience God and who He is rather than the system with its rules and regulations and rigidity, I realize more and more the absolute non-necessity of "doing" anything to curry favor with Him.  I am ALREADY favored. I am ALREADY loved to the Nth degree! Just as I am, period!  

It never gets old. The wonder never dims.  In such an atmosphere, absolute freedom isn't an excuse to indulge in guilty pleasures (as some might fear) but an opportunity to develop intimacy with the Almighty One ... and all that means is that I get to spend time with Him without the need to ask for anything because everything I need is already mine in Him. And that includes fellowship, (again contrary to what some might think). God sets up His appointments with others of like mind, far better than I could, and exactly when I need them, to enhance my journey with Him.  It is not forced; there is no structure. What a great gift that is to one whose life was regimented and bound up in the whole notion of fear of what someone else might think. Or the terror that somehow I could damage what God was trying to do if I didn't do a good enough job at ... whatever it was. 

This life is like reveling in beams of sunlight in prisms through the glass - a joyful, grateful, peaceful appreciation of His love. No more cringing. No more hamster wheel. No more reliance on my own strength. Just rest, relax, and let Him shine.

There is always more mercy, always more love, always more light. Always.

The pressure and politics - and pleasures - of isolation

One day recently, I was having a discussion about something with an acquaintance, when the topic turned to something on which the person and I did not share the same opinion.  

She asked me about it, so in spite of my better judgement, I gave my opinion, which I backed up with anecdotal (based on personal experience) evidence.  It stopped the conversation cold, and both of us commented on how awkward it felt, how inappropriate it was for us to even be discussing it. 

After that, I sensed a coldness, a withdrawal of respect, if you will, between us.  And it got me to thinking about the subtle pressure that comes to bear when two people don't agree on something - the social pressure to conform, for one side to convince the other and failing that, the removal of that thing from the list of things where one feels "safe".  

There is a lack of acceptance that is inherent in such differences of opinion; one side is unswayed by the other, and a (silent or voiced) agreement takes place where both parties resolve never to bring up that topic again.  Whether that is from a fear of confrontation, or from an unwillingness to entertain the other's point of view (belief, doctrine, attitude) again based on fear of being proven wrong or anger that someone holds to a different viewpoint, the result is the same: the walls go up and a whole other area is cordoned off with a big "Do Not Enter" sign posted, a "demilitarized zone" - a no-man's-land or an emotional mine-field.

I've been giving this idea some thought since deciding to leave the institutional church last summer.  And I've noticed that in some ways, and with some people more than others, the same process has been happening with people who had said to me that we were part of the family of God.  Yet when we decided to leave the physical house where they felt (to one degree or the other) comfortable, and where we did not, there was that same awkwardness, that withdrawal, that "let's not go there" mentality that just ... appeared.  Out of nowhere, it seemed, people who would laugh and joke with us simply avoided eye contact, or promised to keep in touch but didn't, or if they did keep in touch, there were awkward silences, things they felt they couldn't share, things we felt that we couldn't share - because we were in different worlds.  

And slowly, that resulted in isolation from a community we THOUGHT was based on more than just the name engraved on a plaque or painted on a sign near the church entrance.  It made us question whether the relationships that we had spent years developing were nothing more than a sham - whether they were based on whether we kept up our end of the contract, or whether we were "of use" to the community.  It all seemed so ... superficial, petty, and ... conditional. 

We made it clear that we were not leaving our relationship with God, but that we no longer subscribed to living life by traditions, rules, and the fear and shame that is behind those things.  We thought that those who knew us best would understand that this was not a rejection of them, but a personal decision.  And perhaps some of them did.  

Yet ... here we are.  God sets up times when we are in community with one or two other people and seeking His face - and He shows up; these times are wonderful and remind me of what the early church must have been like.  Yet for the most part, it's like we have died as far as relationships with some people are concerned.  

Don't get me wrong; our relationship with God has deepened and we are experiencing peace and joy more now than ever before.  Yet even that makes some folks uncomfortable; after all, aren't we supposed to shrivel up and waste away to nothing if we don't slap our fannies on a church pew somewhere? 

Photo "Bald Eagle Close Up" courtesy of
Tina Phillips at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

More and more, I don't think so. I think that that mentality limits God in ways I am not comfortable with.  And truth be told, while there are some aspects of church attendance and traditional ministry that I do miss at times, in those moments, I usually just play the tape all the way to the end and realize that for me, it's not worth going back for just those few things.  

I kind of feel like Neo in "The Matrix" - I've swallowed the red pill (those who've seen the movie know what I mean) and now, things just don't look the same anymore.  And it IS isolating.  The very nature of that realization means that there ARE going to be topics I won't be able to discuss with certain  people, and there are going to be some people who won't feel comfortable being around me either. It isn't that they are wrong and I am right; it's just that we are in different places with different needs. Yet, for someone who all her life wanted everyone to like her and approve of her, it's a big deal that some people now ... don't - or they don't act like they do.

Accepting that is probably one of the hardest things about this past year.  As liberating as this lifestyle is, as wonderful as it is to look at life through the lens of God's unconditional love, it is still sometimes a lonely place - but one dear friend of mine turned that thinking around when she called it "the aerie" - the eagles' nest.

I like that.  True, there is isolation, but there are also many more updrafts, and the advantage of a bird's eye view, so to speak.  Things that seemed so huge: political wrangling, position, petitions, placards, pleading, proselytizing, pontificating, and pseudo-pious posturing ... seem so puny and piddling compared to the simple truth that God is God and I am not.  And I'm okay with that.

In fact, I'm better than okay with it.  I like it just fine!

Prescription Lenses

When I was 40, I was having daily headaches, and the headlights of approaching vehicles hurt my eyes, and my husband (who has worn glasses since he was 8 years old) suggested that I get my eyes checked. To my surprise, I needed prescription lenses ... and as I have gotten older, I have moved to bifocals.  It is natural for me now to reach for my glasses as soon as I get up in the morning.

It took me longer to realize that I needed spiritual glasses.  I grew up in the church, became a Christian at age 11, and I didn't realize that the constant sense of pressure and pain I was feeling was from all of the imposed expectations of everyone around me to conform to some code of behaviour in order for me to be accepted by them.  I just thought it was part of my "cross to bear" or "vale of tears"... and carried on.  I traded what was really important to me for whatever the fad was in worship style or [what was preached as] doctrine.  I touted all the buzz words, acted the part, and attended every event.  But inside, I was hurting.  I began to wonder if this was all there was, because if it was, then I was getting more and more unhappy.  

I got a glimpse - in late 1982 - of a different kind of life, a life of adventure and purpose and joy. This lasted a few years, and I consider it one of the best times in my life.  However, the divine unconditional love I experienced during that time eventually got crowded out by others' expectations ... again.  Once more, I was back on the road of ever-increasing misery.  For a long while I blamed myself - and even my kids - for what I thought was the culprit: being too busy.  It wasn't being busy. It wasn't my kids.  And it wasn't me.

It took a long time to connect the dots, some thirty plus years, in fact.  All I knew for sure was that when I was engaging in pure worship, nothing and nobody existed except God and His love for me. I literally lived for those times, thinking that they were rare and they were what kept me going.  And I thought that it was because of the worship (translation: music, atmosphere, harmonies, etc.) when really, it was because of the Love. It was the Love. 

I eventually learned that the "worship" changed depending on who was leading it, and more and more I experienced the Love less and less as those ever-present expectations flooded in and knocked intimacy with Him sideways, like a flood pushing aside a load-bearing wall.  As more people started spreading alarmist doctrines and motivating people with shame, guilt and fear, I began to experience more than just discomfort ... the Love-seeker in me began to detect a disconnect between what I really needed and what was available to me in that kind of atmosphere.  Increasingly, I saw that atmosphere as toxic to my spirit.  For a time, I thought that perhaps it was just the location that was doing this - the need to keep up a building - and that small groups might be the way to go.  And then the church I was attending started having small groups - and I saw that their structure was exactly the same as the large group that met on Sunday mornings.  It was all the same, all based on fear and shame and control, all regimented and rules-based.  No, I figured, that wasn't the answer. I began to lose hope.  Despair started to sink in.  And the whole time, I kept doing ministry, going through the motions, and feeling just awful.

Photo "Young Beautiful Woman Shopping
In A Market" courtesy of nenetus at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Then, a couple of years ago, a friend of mine put on a new set of spiritual prescription lenses.  She ditched the expectations and cloistered herself in with God and sincerely asked Him to reveal who He really was to her.  And God did.  And she was so blown away ... surprised by what she found and delighted, because it was what she had always been searching for but never found ... and barely would have believed.  

Her life literally transformed.  She had found the secret, which had been waiting the whole time for her to just ask, to go and ask God to check her spiritual eyes.  And He did - and gave her His prescription: His unconditional, supreme, passionate, all-pervasive and pure Love.  I watched and listened as she explored more and more facets, getting closer and closer to His heart.  She even began re-reading the Bible - as she put it - through the lens of His Love.  And she was surprised and amazed at how this new prescription changed how she had always interpreted certain passages with which she always had had issues.  The lens of God's love was just what she had been looking for.  She lost her fear.  She lost shame.  She began to experience God's over-the-top, no-holds-barred Love.  And she couldn't help herself ... she was happy!

And you know, happiness is incredibly attractive! 
I saw how joyful she was now - and how free!  And I remembered those days in the early 1980s ... and thought a lot about what it was that made those days special ...  It was Love!  All those buzz words and platitudes I kept spouting, all the speaking in faith, the pronouncing of blessings, the victory marches and the spiritual warfare sessions, all the exorcisms of empty rooms and the hours spent at the altar "seeking" or "birthing" ... they only served as smokescreens obscuring the Main Thing:  God's unconditional Love. 

The more I concentrated on that Love, the more out of place I felt in any regular gathering-place that SAID it was about His Love and yet focused on all those other things (like surrender, being Spirit-filled, and being obedient) as if they were the ultimate goals.  More and more I began to see that - as usual - the cart was in front of the horse and impeding the horse's path.  And as I looked back over my life and all the places I had attended church, I understood that every single assembly I had gone to had put that stupid cart out in front of the horse.  To one degree or another, they all laid burdens (of duty, obligation, and fear) on people's backs and didn't lift one finger to help them, unless they were grieving a loss - and even then, the break from those guilt-based and fear-based burdens was short-lived. 

They had the wrong lenses on - those God's-out-to-get-you lenses - and I was so sick of being surrounded by that.  It got so that I would typically arrive home after church literally exhausted and drained from the constant avalanche of duty-this and fear-that, of do-this and shun-that.  My stress level multiplied by a factor of ten when I was at church.  I did not consider it to be a safe place where I could be myself. 

My husband was feeling the same things.  Eventually (like the elephant in the room) we talked about it ... and after much prayer, soul-searching, and wrestling with all the what-ifs (which took a whole year), we decided to unplug.  Not from God, you understand, but from the organized church.  We had church-surfed before; they were all the same.  We needed - pardon the expression - to "go into detox" from religion: all those extra trappings that most people equate with Christianity but which really are NOT, nor do they bear any resemblance to the joy-filled, love-infused connections He originally designed for His people. Why? for no other reason than this simple truth: He Loves us. No conditions, no formulas, no jumping through hoops, and no limits.

Since that time, our stress level has vastly reduced, and God- because I know you are curious - has set up wonderful times (on His timetable) where we get together with other believers (as He chooses) and feel lifted up and strengthened rather than worn out and weary.  We are able to pray without feeling obligated to pray, to give or to pour into people's lives without being manipulated by shame, and to enjoy little blessings as from Him without the need to say, 'Praise God' after every sentence.  (He knows we are grateful - and His knowledge of our hearts is all that matters.)  Our family is far closer.  And we are growing in the knowledge that He loves us no matter what!! 

We are slowly learning to use our new Love-lenses, and everything seems so much more natural that way.  We don't have to strain and strive to live the Christian life; it just naturally flows out of realizing more and more His overwhelming Love for us. We are learning to see the Love shining through the pages of scripture.  We are less afraid to feel what we feel without apology, knowing that He is real and expresses what He feels, so it is okay for us to do the same.  There are no regrets.  There is only an overwhelming sense of gratitude for being completely and totally accepted and loved to the uttermost.  

I like these new Love-glasses.  I can see much better with them.

In Search Of Life

It has been an incredibly stressful six months or more.  But finally, we have some peace within.  

Some people already know what I'm about to reveal. Some people - a smaller number, no doubt - even know why. 

My husband and I are leaving the church. There, it's out. 

No, it's nothing that any one particular person has said or done; in fact, if not for the hope we had from the wonderful hearts of a very few people who love deeply, we would have left long ago. No, we are not angry at anyone; disagreement is not anger. No, we will not reconsider; we have put much thought and prayer and soul-searching into this decision and it is made. There is nothing anyone can say or do to change it. No, we are not going anywhere else. The organized church is the same everywhere - we've tried for years to find anything that is like what the first century believers knew and we have found nothing. NOTHING.  And no, most certainly we are not abandoning our faith. 

We are not just leaving a particular assembly. We are leaving a religious system that says it is based on love, grace and good news and instead is based on judgment, rules, and death. While we are in that atmosphere, there is no way that we can pursue Life. 

This conclusion is based on personal experience going back as far as we both can remember, through various denominations, in various life stages, as children, teens, young adults, parents with children of our own, and all of it operating (or trying to operate) in ministry through the vast majority of it. Throughout our Christian lives, we and our loved ones have been subjected to the most insidious types of spiritual abuse possible (and sometimes blatant bullying) by people who are well-placed in various positions of power in boardrooms, Sunday school rooms, kids church programs, youth programs, church suppers, picnics, special services where we felt sucked dry and left to flap in the wind, and more. Yes, we could cite hundreds of scenarios where the expectations of other people have made us feel belittled, used, burnt out, taken advantage of, and taken for granted. And we would still put up with it ... if there was even the slightest spark of Life in it. 

But ... there isn't. HE isn't.

Yes, I know that He lives in us and that wherever we are [the implication is, together] He is. I know that. But when we get together in an organized, structured setting, it becomes more about controlling people's behaviour (making sure they don't "fall away", whatever that is),  being gatekeepers of morality, and perpetuating the upkeep of the building and the programs than it is about letting Jesus love us, and being filled with that love so much that it overflows into the lives of others just because we can't contain it all. As I've said, I have seen individuals whose lives are like that. But the church? 

No.

About a year ago, a friend of ours made a similar move to the one we are making. She felt that she had to leave her church to be able to hear God's voice, to find out who He really is - because all she was hearing from the organized church was condemnation, guilt, shame, manipulation, should-dos and must-dos. It was all based in fear. Fear of losing what God had so freely given by dropping the ball somehow. Fear that people would stop tithing / giving to the church. Fear that the big bad world out there would somehow corrupt the strict code of morality that the church has embraced for centuries.

She had to leave the church to find God. Interesting. (Here's a footnote by the way: she DID find Him ... and she is deliriously happy!!)

Photo "Portrait Of Pointing Male" by
imagerymajestic at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I will ask a question here - haven't there been many times when you've left church more drained than when you went there? More frustrated, more angry, more drained of hope, wondering if this is all there is?  I had times like that once in a while, years ago when I was involved in a community of believers that supplemented what happened at church... and even that group got bogged down in "organizing the organism" (also known as vivisection: now there's a horror story...) 

Since that time, that horrible experience of futility and burnout, that feeling of being beaten up, has happened more and more often until the point where it is so rare that even when the slightest glimmer of the presence of God shows up in a church service - He is doused with ice water after someone decides that we've had "enough worship" and wants to get to the "real" reason for church - the preaching. (WHAAAT??? Where is THAT written???) The preacher stands up (and here I must say that not EVERY preacher is like this) and starts to yell at the people for "not doing enough." He (or she) tries to scare people into toeing the line. Or shame them into getting out there and spreading the good news. (Really? is it good news to tell people that God can't stand to look at them, but He loves them so He killed Jesus for them, and then expects them to toe the line and behave themselves the rest of their lives or they'll end up going to the bad place anyway??)  It's all DO, DO, DO, with no encouragement to BE, BE, BE. It's like folks don't even know HOW to just BE. They think that unless they are out there, full bore, chugging for the Lord, He's not going to be pleased with them. What bondage.

He DIED for them to prove how much He loves - has always loved - the human race. Oh my goodness, do we think that He will stop being crazy about us just because we didn't read three chapters in the Bible today? or didn't sprinkle oil on the living room furniture to chase the demons away? 

Come on. Is our god really that small and petty?

God is LOVE. God is so much LOVE that He went to the ultimate extreme - becoming one of us - to prove that love. Jesus didn't die to make God stop being mad at us. Jesus died because God loved us so much and we were still drowning in our blindness thinking that He needed to be appeased. So He came to prove His love - and WE killed Him - and HE forgave us while we were doing it!! No condemnation, NONE. Just total acceptance and love. He came and died to remove our blindness if we would ask Him to, our blindness to His love, His light, His LIFE. And then He rose from the dead to show us that we would live forever as well.  In that act of pure, eternal, inexhaustible love, He KILLED the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, the tree of good and bad, right and wrong. And He opened the door to the tree of Life.

THAT is the Good News. THAT is the gospel. Not this whole system that is based on the same tree that Adam and Eve ate from in the Garden: the tree of "I'm better than you because I do this and don't do that."  That's the morality tree. It's what put Jesus to death!! He came to show us Love and Light and Life - and the religious system of dos and don'ts, shoulds and should nots, musts and must nots, felt threatened by Him... These religious rulers manipulated the political rulers of the day, and turned His message of Love into a capital crime, when Jesus Himself did not say anything against Rome, or against slavery, or against any of the societal ills of His day.  His only scathing rebukes had been against religion - the system - that rules-based, fear-based, politico-religious system that condoned oppressing the poor, and created a spiritual top-down caste society of haves and have-nots, of those who were "in" and those who were "out." 

The kingdom (kingship) of God is not like that. He turned the top-down system upside down and showed us that WE are the pearl of great price that He gave everything to have, that WE are the friends He would lay His life down for, before we even knew what it meant for Him to do that. He placed Himself beneath us, serving us... to show us how very much He loved us. ALL of us, every single soul down through history ... even the ones that have not been conceived yet. Not just the chosen few.

The religious system grinds people to oily dust and uses that dust to oil its cogs to grind more people up. It is an atmosphere that is anti-God, anti-Jesus, anti-Spirit. It is exclusive, not inclusive. It shames and does not accept. It is Ichabod - the glory has departed. We are not willing to be part of that system anymore. To us, it is (always has been, and sadly, probably always will be) death, not Life.  

Photo "Sunrise At First Sight"
courtesy of Keattikorn at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

We are searching for Life. We know that light-giving Life is in Him (see John 1) and we have only seen darkness and doubt and despair in the organized church. We are not saying that we will never darken a church door again ... but we are saying that such an oppressive atmosphere - for us - does not lend itself to finding Life or to falling in love with Jesus. 

And we understand - and fully accept and love - those who feel that the organization is the place they need to stay in order to have a feeling of community and purpose. We understand that there are people  -  many people  -  who need that structure, who need that place to call home in order to feel safe.  With rare and extremely notable (but temporary) exceptions, we have not found that feeling for ourselves; in general, we have found ourselves excluded, abused, judged, and at best, tolerated. 

So we are going on our quest - and it must happen outside that atmosphere. There have been definite glimmers - outside the organized church system - where we have experienced the organism of the Church (notice I capitalized it), been uplifted and fed, felt like participants in the good things that God is doing in people's lives. These have led us to believe that finding Life is possible, that God will prepare an accepting and loving community for us, and that it will be so very important for us to refrain from jeopardizing that by taking out the scalpel to dissect it and organize it. That would only kill it. There is no way we would want that.

I don't expect very many people to understand ... or to agree ... but I only wanted for the people who know us best to hear the real reasons from us, rather than speculating or gossiping or judging ... and to understand that it is necessary for us to guard our hearts, which for us (right now) means that we practice self-care by removing ourselves from that which crushes us. 

This is a scary thing we are doing. We are not sure what to expect. We are not sure if we'll find what we're looking for. We are launching out into the unknown. All we know is that if we keep doing what we've always done, we'll keep getting what we've always gotten.  And we are tired of living like that.  If there is not more, then "the abundant Life" Jesus promised is a sham. But if - as we suspect - there IS something more, we are on the lookout for it. We are in search of Life.  And if we find Life - there will be no question that those who know and love us will be the first to know because we won't be able to contain ourselves.

The View From Here

It seems like forever since I found myself down here, down below the surface, away from the sunshine. I'm not exactly sure why this was the place where someone thought I should be... but it's where I am. I've worked hard to accept it, because try as I might, I've not been able to extricate myself ... not from lack of trying! 

Wait. Wait and you will see. You don't need to understand. All will be made clear.

I can't help thinking how dark and slimy it is here. It's been a very long time since I've seen any lasting rays of light. I used to be so thick-skinned, but now the least little thing seems to pierce through. 

You are being softened. Trust. I am near.

I know that there are things that are happening within me. But I can only feel discomfort. I can't see anything beyond this oppressive, fetid place. I can't see any growth in me, just stirrings of irritation. I feel like I'm being split in two, that my whole life is coming apart. 

There is life. You are growing inside. You can't see it yet because you're too close to the situation. What you are feeling is normal. Relax; it will take time. I am in control. 

I feel as though I'm reaching in all different directions. I'm vaguely aware that I am growing, but I can't see how. Where is the sun? I feel like I'm losing myself to this process ... I'm not even sure I know who I am anymore. 

You are becoming. Who you used to be is being transformed. You are being rooted deeply. Soon you will see. 

Every movement is an effort, a struggle. I'm tired. I just want things to be easier, safer, less exhausting. I admit that now I can feel the warmth of the sun a little, but slogging through this dark place takes all the energy I have. I have nothing left over. 

Your growth is beginning to show. This is the hardest part, just before your breakthrough. Keep feeling that warmth, drinking in the nourishment I send. Soon you will see ... and gain strength to grow even more.

Photo "Young Plant" courtesy of
amenic181 at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Lessons from butterflies

I had the opportunity to use the word metamorphosis today, (the process by which a caterpillar becomes a butterfly) which got me to thinking about that process, and about butterflies in general.

As I pondered this wonder of God's creation, I began to understand some lessons about life and faith that parallel the life cycle of this common - but usually welcome - insect. Some of them might seem pretty basic, but bear with me.

All butterflies start out as caterpillars. Even though their destiny is to fly, butterflies begin life from eggs laid by adult butterflies, and you'd think that the hatchlings would resemble - at least somewhat - the finished product. 

Photo "Monarch Caterpillar" courtesy of
Lisa McDonald at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

They don't. They're fat, squirmy, earth-bound critters that think of nothing but eating the next piece of greenery. And the next.

Just so, the expression "God has no grandchildren" can apply here. Just because you are a child of God doesn't mean that your children are. They must each come to faith the same way - through a personal experience of rebirth by the Spirit of God. Every single person is a born sinner.

The caterpillar's entire existence is geared toward consumption. It consumes food almost all of the time! Its entire focus is downward, toward the business of survival: the next bite, the next leaf, the next plant. Yet even this limited existence serves a purpose - it will help the caterpillar have enough physical resources (or building blocks, if you wish) when it eventually has to stop eating and form its cocoon, or chrysalis. Every experience in our lives, even the ones we've had prior to becoming Christians, has the potential of being a tool to help us or to help someone else later on.

When the time is right, the caterpillar knows. Each individual caterpillar knows when it is ready to enter the next stage of its life - the transformational stage. It doesn't know that this is what will take place. It just knows that it needs to go to a protected spot and do something other than eat. No other organism can make that decision (if you can call it that); the little critter just KNOWS. The Holy Spirit is the only One who can bring someone to Jesus. All the "witnessing" in the world, all the singing, programs, manipulation or whatever you can name, will not bring even ONE person into the Kingdom of God. That moment is holy; it belongs to God and to Him alone... and it is extremely personal.

Once the process starts, there is no going back. Driven by forces of instinct, the caterpillar envelops itself into its cocoon ... and a process begins that is irrevocable. There is only one possible outcome: a butterfly will emerge. Let's also keep in mind that the caterpillar is not aware of the changes that are happening. It can't see what it's becoming. These two thoughts give hope to those of us who have no idea what God is doing in us, can't see a clear path, and wonder if anything is even happening. God will finish what He started, and He will make something beautiful come out of what seems like chaos, even if we don't have a clue what that something beautiful is.

Everything the caterpillar is, is fundamentally changed.  Many people are not aware of this, but the process of metamorphosis changes the caterpillar into a gelatin-like soup of cells and organic molecules. In essence, the caterpillar is de-constructed down to the level of the cells themselves. It ceases to be what it was ... and it is then re-created into the form of a butterfly. Over the space of a few weeks, (which in most species is a significant portion of its lifespan) this old creation is re-created into something it has never been before. This reminds me of the verse in 2 Corinthians 5 that talks about us being new creations in Christ Jesus: "...the old is past; the new has come!" (vs 17)  While we may not feel regenerated, we are. While we may not feel holy; God declares us as such - in fact, the courage of Scripture says, "He has made Him [Jesus] to be sin for us, [He] who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him [Jesus]!!" (vs 21)

It takes as long as it takes. The process of realizing all the facets of that new life, that new nature, might take a while, but it happens. And although - for the chrysalis - it might happen in a cluster of chrysalises, each process is individual, and it will take as long as it takes. The same is true in the spiritual realm. While it is true that we need others in the body of Christ, the most important relationship there is happens in the secret place, where the Spirit of God transforms us from the inside out.

This is not the time for pouring into someone else's life. Starting to "minister" too soon is one of the top reasons that I've seen that explains why people in ministry burn (or fizzle) out. I sometimes remind myself that Paul the apostle had to go to Arabia for 3 years and "unlearn" all of the mind-sets that he had as a Pharisee before he could be used by God in the Church. 

Photo "Monarch Butterfly" provided by
Liz Noffsinger at
www.freedigitalphotoa.net

When it's time to emerge, it's time. After the butterfly is fully formed, it is time to come out of the cocoon. This is not a comfortable process, and nobody can help with it, or the creature will not be able to fly properly or reach its food source, and will therefore starve to death. The struggle of emerging from the chrysalis is essential, as is the resting period following it. Only then can the necessary internal juices flow into the wings and harden them; at first the wings are soft, wet, floppy, and small. The waiting allows the power to transfer from within to where it is needed. 

The shell that was so important before, the boundary of the transforming creature's world, has already served its purpose after the wings harden. It can be discarded. There are no limits now. The butterfly is free, learning to ride the air currents and feed on totally different food, covering more distance in one minute than it did for its entire existence before beginning the process. 

It will act like a butterfly because it IS a butterfly. A caterpillar can no more act like a butterfly than a pig can act like an eagle. And it would be ludicrous for a butterfly to act like a caterpillar. That isn't what a butterfly is anymore. 

This is a metaphor, a picture, of the completeness of our transformation as believers, whether we are aware of it or not. I won't belabor the point by drawing the obvious parallels; I will only say that they are there - and that God will do what He said He would: in gazing on His glory, we will be transformed - just like a butterfly is transformed - into the image of Jesus by the Holy Spirit who lives within us (2 Cor 3:18). And where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (vs 17).

Outside the Box

Okay, I would like to share with you today the story of a 21-year-old girl named Arielle. In June 2013, she left the safety and comfort of her parents' home (much like a prodigal but needing to make a new start as well) and traveled three thousand miles away to an unknown city that promised employment opportunities and a better life.

What she found was not as shining and sparkly as she had dreamed. She stayed in touch with her parents the whole time, through texting and sometimes calling. This was a lifeline for her, a way to stay connected.

For a while, she and her friend (NOT boyfriend) and his mother were living at the mom's ex's place. That is, until he got drunk and broke his son's nose and ordered the two young people out of his house. They got out and never looked back. They did find a job at a store, making barely enough to pay rent; their boss took pity on them and let them stay with her, for the amount they would have paid for an apartment. It was not a good idea; living in the boss' house made it so that she was privy to family secrets. She hated secrets. Pressure built at work as a co-worker made life a living hell for her. In spite of advice from her parents not to quit until she had another job lined up - she couldn't take it any more and quit her job, thinking she would be able to find another one soon enough. 

That didn't happen. Her money started running out. Her landlady (now her former boss) started looking for ways to kick her out.

In the middle of all of this, she met a wonderful young man named Tanner. This guy was fun, caring, and treated her with respect. They got to be very close, spending more and more time together. 

This past Tuesday (September 17) she picked him up from work and he said, "Let's go for a drive. I need to tell you something after we get outside the city and the traffic." He got her something to eat... and they went for a little drive. That's when he told her his story.

A guy at his work - Roy - had been speaking to him for quite some time. This fellow is a Christian ... but unlike any you'd ever expect to see - as if Christians have to always wear 3-piece suits or something (LOL - another topic for another time!) He looked like a biker dude, simply put. But he got Tanner's attention and started talking to him about God, sharing his own experience without any of the "you should" stuff. (That stuff turns people off like the PLAGUE). Tanner was listening. He was fascinated. He'd go to Roy's place and listen to him tell stories of what he'd experienced, hours upon hours sometimes.

And last Monday night, he'd been at Roy's place and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room seemed to change. There was an almost electric presence in the room; neither man spoke about it, but Tanner could feel gooseflesh rising on his skin, and he started to "get all emotional" but didn't break down or anything. And Roy reached over and touched him. "Do you feel that?" he asked. Tanner nodded. "That's God." 

Right then and there, Tanner had an experience with the Almighty One. He was shaking, crying, felt warm all over his body, and the two men just shared this amazing experience for ... well they didn't know how long.

The next day, at quitting time, Tanner's girlfriend Arielle (remember her?) picked him up from work because his car was in the shop. "I have to tell you something," he said. "But not here, let's get out of the city." He bought her some taquitos and a pop - and they set out for the countryside. He told her his story once they reached the outskirts ... as she drove. She felt goosebumps as well, hearing him tell about it. And a warmth spread over her shoulders and through her torso. 

There was a break in the conversation; they had been talking for over two hours. Tanner asked her to pull over - they were in the country so the area was pretty unpopulated - so he could take a leak. When he got out of the car and she locked the doors... she said to herself - or was it to God? - "I don't know if what I am feeling is me, whether I'm feeling Tanner's emotions or what this is... but if it's not, if it's something more, I need a sign."

IMMEDIATELY she began to sob, uncontrollably. She felt that same Presence that Tanner had told her about!! 

Photo "The Cross And The Hand" courtesy of |
njaj at www.freedigitalimages.net

In those moments, she KNEW it was real. She knew GOD was real. She knew that everything she'd ever been taught was REAL. God reached down into her life and pulled her out of her darkness and into His marvelous Light. 

When Tanner got into the car, he caught her (in her words) "bawling" her eyes out. He first checked to see if she was okay. When he had convinced himself that she was - he grinned and said, "It felt just like that for me too." 

They spent all night talking about God. And talking TO Him. Tanner shared his gospel of John with her; they started reading it together. 

Since that time, life has been transformed. They pray together. They read the book of John together because it's all they have of the Bible. She wants to get a Bible. They both want so badly to know Him more. And they want to grow in this new friendship with Jesus.

Arielle couldn't wait to call her mom and tell her that whole story, so she called this past Wednesday afternoon - saying this was too important to put in a text. "I used to be lonely all the time, Mom," she told her mother. "Now I'm not lonely any more. He saved me. It's like I have this friend with me who never leaves me." 

"Mom" has been praying for a good 10 years for her daughter to know that the gospel is true, ever since her daughter started to reject the god she had been brought up with at church. You know, the judgmental one, the one that is about rules and regulations. The one whose people are more concerned with how many swear words are in a film rather than the message it might contain to touch someone. 

"Mom" was literally dancing in happiness and gratitude, and she still is inside.

As you can probably tell, Mom's done a lot of growing in the last ten years too. 

I can vouch for that. Because that mother ... is me. And Arielle is my little girl. :'D

Shhhh - it's a secret!

It's well-guarded; it has to be.  We go about our lives; Sunday comes and we go to church and we put on a plastic smile, shake hands and interact with people while we talk about inane, superficial things that mean nothing, while the whole time we are aching, perhaps even feeling dead inside - misery washes over us in waves.  And we talk about how wonderful the Lord is, how blessed we are.

We're lying.  

We're afraid to tell someone (perhaps even ourselves) what our struggles are.  No matter what the struggles are, it seems!  Some fight a daily battle with addiction.  Others' family relationships are in the toilet.  Still another might feel so lonely that he or she is thinking about suicide.  Someone else might be bullied at school or at work.  And more people than you can shake a stick at, suffer from prolonged and deep-seated depression. Yes, in the church. Yet nobody says a word. We're afraid that on top of the struggles we are facing, the last thing we need is to be judged and condemned for having them.

And we know, instinctively, that we will be.  This is the thing.  Evangelical Christians aren't really well known for their accepting attitudes.  More Christians have been hurt in church or by church people than they have by their non-churched friends.  I know that's true in my life.  With rare exceptions, I prefer to be with people who aren't your traditional right-wing, conservative, evangelical born-again Christians.  There's just too much judgment out there.  Sad to say, I've participated in it on occasion ... the 'prayer chains' that are usually nothing more than glorified gossip networks, the snide comments about what someone was wearing today or how long the pastor spoke today, ... the list is endless.  You know when that stops? it stops when YOU're the one who is the target of all those nasty comments.  Then you find out what it feels like.  But I digress slightly.

The truth of the matter is that in today's Christian culture, nobody wants to hear your "in progress" story. That's not considered a testimony.  So it's, "Shhh! be quiet!"

This is the Christian world's dirty little secret.  Fundamentalist Christians don't want to hear the tale unless it's a "success" story that will make them ooh and ahh, that will support their little fantasies that everything turns out all right - and that's the good part, so why talk about the bad parts unless there's a happy ending?  They don't want to listen to the in-between details; they want you to go through your stuff on your own and then tell them about the miracle part. Cut to the chase. What? you're still going through stuff? there's been no resolution? you're having difficulty emotionally?  Well!! - that's not speaking in faith!!  

No, that's grappling with reality.  It's telling the truth, refusing to hide.  It's a desperate attempt to know God IN the struggle, to see if there is someone out there who might just BE there and not try to judge or change the person who's having a hard time coping, but to come alongside, to love no matter what, and to let the weary traveler know that he or she is not alone.  

It doesn't take much, really.  A few kind words spoken, even in passing.  Like someone did for me yesterday in a department store - just showing support and love.  I can't begin to describe the gratitude I felt for that.  No words are even necessary sometimes.  A warm hug speaks volumes.  It lets me know that the person is with me and not against me.  Goodness knows I have felt pierced, crucified by more than enough Christians who let me know by their absence, by them turning their backs to me or ignoring me, that they are against me.  

I know that feeling of judgment, of condemnation, of someone (in essence) shushing me because what I have to say is not worth listening to until I get my act together and can wind up a size six on some Christian talk show in a five-hundred-dollar skirt suit.  

Life doesn't work like that.  And it would sure help if we'd just be honest and accept people for who and where they are.

I Will Remember

I love to read the Psalms, especially those penned by David.  He - above all authors in the Book - has to be among the top three in my "favorites" list... not because his poetry is amazing (which it is) but because he is honest about how he feels, with no apologies.  

Most of his songs start off with some sort of lament - circumstances are pressing in and he feels trapped by them.  Betrayal from a one-time friend has pierced his heart.  He is overwhelmed by his own sinfulness.  He is afraid for his life.  He is depressed, discouraged, in despair.  Whatever the case, he expresses it fully and makes those feelings known to God.  

Not that God doesn't already know these things.  But he needs to express them and in doing so, fully know the state of his own heart.  It is tossed and driven, buffeted, weary of the storm.  

This painting is for sale by artist Ivan Fraser  ... I found the image at:
http://www.paintingsilove.com/artist/ivanfraser
found through Google Images...

And then he comes to a turning point - once his emotion has been fully expressed to its Creator - and it usually starts with "...but I will remember ..."  David lists all the times God has been faithful to him - or even to others - in the past.  He draws strength from those stories, speaks to his inner storm, and turns himself intentionally toward the guidance of the lighthouse - God's presence with him through it all.  He allows faith to take the helm in the midst of the fears that surround him and overwhelm him.  

He speaks truth and peace to his inner turmoil.  He reminds himself - again and again - that God is there. 

David was called "a man after God's own heart."  I believe that this was because he was honest above all things.  Even the best of us can be self-deluded (as was David for about a year of his life) but this man never tried to sugar-coat anything.  He felt passionately whatever it was that he felt.  He was able to weep openly. To worship with all his might. To love completely.  To fully experience the wrath and indignation of injustice.  To admit the depth of his own suffering.  And through it all he kept close to his heart the lessons learned in the fields with his sheep - in the caves with his men - and in the depths of his grief.  

David's example has inspired me more times than I can count.  I've often drawn upon his life, his self-talk, his recorded prayers in my own puny struggles to let go of trying to control my own life and the lives of others - and to let God do it.  David wrote, "You chart the path ahead of me, and tell me where to stop and rest.  Every moment You know where I am."  (Ps. 139:3, NLT)  So many times that prayer (in its entirety) has helped me remember that it's okay to catch my breath, and that God has already seen what's ahead and is with me.  Every moment.  There's no escaping Him - not that I'd even want to - and He is in charge of my life.  

I'm so very glad.  I've been in charge of it before - and it didn't turn out well. I will remember that.  I will also remember that He has promised never to leave, never to forsake me ... And I will remember to say thank You.

Our Cross to Bear

I heard it a lot when I was growing up.  Usually it was said by someone who was referring to parenting us kids.  "Oh, it's my cross to bear, I guess."  I heard it so much it made me sick at heart, wounded in spirit.  It was so NOT that person's cross to bear - the meaning of that term completely escaped not only that person, but every person I ever heard use that kind of statement when I was a child.  Of course, at the time, that's the only context in which I heard it, so I didn't know any different.  

Now I do.  A "cross to bear" does NOT mean some sort of situation that is inescapable, seen as a punishment or (at best) a test from God.  That would be what is known as a "trial" and as I've said before, those happen to everyone, Christian or not - and it's our response to them which can repel or attract another person from or to the God we serve. Certainly the statement (and tone) I heard growing up was NOT one which would attract someone to God. The only ones who were attracted to it were those who also considered their children to be a punishment from God for having (worse yet, enjoying) sex.  Pardon my bluntness.  


But it had nothing to do with having a cross to bear.

A cross to bear - in Jesus' day - meant certain death.  It wasn't (as is the trend today) some ornate decoration hung around the person's neck on a 14K gold pendant.  It was the harbinger of doom.  It was the guarantee of execution. It was bloody, gory, and repulsive.  Nobody wanted to think about the cross.  Yet - Jesus told His followers, "Unless a man (He's talking in the generic sense here) deny himself, pick up his cross, and follow Me, he can't be my disciple." Those who heard that were affronted - they were in this for the glory of the coming kingdom when Messiah would overthrow the Romans and set up His kingdom on earth.  And Jesus was saying they'd have to pick up a cross?  the very symbol of the ultimate victory of Rome?  

Of course He didn't mean that they (or we) should all be crucified literally.  They were on a hillside, and Jesus wasn't carrying a cross at the time.  Jesus spoke much of the time in metaphor. He was talking about a heart-attitude - as He usually did.  The attitude He spoke of was one that was:

1.  Single-minded.  Following Jesus takes commitment to going wherever He leads, no matter what.  Even if He leads to places that can be uncomfortable. Or even dangerous. Here I'm not talking about suffering for suffering's sake.  I'm saying that the choices we make as Christians may put us in conflict with the world system, and this might turn out to cost us something - either financially, socially, or - in some cases - physically.  Some of Jesus' followers actually WERE crucified after He went back to heaven.  Some were martyred in other ways, the ways limited only by human imagination, all throughout history.  Some even today have lost jobs, families, freedom, even their lives for the sake of spreading the message of the gospel (the good news.)

2.  Self-sacrificing.  Again, here I'm not talking about making a show of giving up this or that thing in our lives and "playing the martyr" to get attention or some sort of reward.  I'm talking about giving up our own selfishness (this only made possible through the power of the Holy Spirit) and choosing what He would have us to do.  Some people call this "doing the next right thing."  It means admitting when we are wrong, and taking steps to make amends where necessary.  It means being honest with ourselves, with God, and with others.  It means "putting to death the deeds of the flesh."  All that means is that we give God the final say over our desires, our motives, our life-focus. As we do that through His empowering presence inside of us, not by enforcing a lot of outward rules and regulations but allowing Him to guide us, we will find that self-seeking will slip away and we will be more interested in serving rather than in instant gratification.   

3. Sustained.  The more we allow God to lead us and to move in our lives, the more we will realize that we cannot do anything... ANYTHING ... in our own strength.  We will come to understand that it is God's strength alone that allows us to continue at all, because trying to live this life He has set out for us in our own strength is absolutely impossible.  Only His indwelling presence - and a daily all-day-long application of that presence - can give us the power to carry out His will. We can't just up and say, "Okay God, I think I got this licked - I'll take it from here," because every time - every single time - we will fall flat on our faces.  It never ceases to amaze me the number of ways that that completely selfish part of me rises up and tries to delude me into thinking I'm letting God run my life, when it's actually me behind the curtain with the remote control pushing buttons and levers like crazy. (It's like the Wizard of Oz, saying, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!")  And then I wonder why God's not coming through for me.  During the rare times when I single-mindedly sacrifice what I want on a continuous basis to Him and to what He wants for me, the power is there - inexplicably - to live life fully, in love, joy, peace, faith, and so much more.  

And the most amazing "God-moments" happen without me trying to "make" them happen.

My cross to bear is not one of duty-based deprivation or of penury (pauperism).  It is an honest, open, and willing acknowledgement (which bears fruit in action) that in every situation, God is God... and I am not.

About the size of it

I remember once hearing a song on a children's program about perspective.  Yes, by perspective I mean how things that are far away look smaller, and things that are up close look bigger. Some of the lyrics went, "Oh the big becomes the little when you move it back a bit, that's about the size of it.  That's about the size, it's where you put your eyes, that's about the size of it."  

At odd times that little ditty comes back to me to help me get some perspective on things that happen in my life.  When I'm going through something, it's huge to me.  Sometimes, God allows me the ability - temporary as it is - to step back from it and see a bit more of the big picture.  It could be something someone else says or is going through that makes my situation seem minor. Or it could be that I will catch myself saying something that I used to take for granted, like, "Oh I can't wait for (whatever) to happen."  Hm.  Really.  Well, I guess I'll just have to wait, because it won't happen until it happens, will it?  And if I live all of my present life and circumstances putting in time until it happens, then I'm missing most of my life!!  What's wrong with enjoying what is NOW, anyway?  Why does it have to be about 'pie in the sky bye and bye'?  

Anyway, lately I've been noticing how trite my circumstances seem, how mundane, how filled with trivialities they are, when there are people among my friends who are facing life-and-death situations, huge relationship upheavals, and other equally distressing events, like grief, for example.  I look at the things which seem important to me today, and somehow, compared to what some folks have to face every day, my concerns seem so pedantic, commonplace even.  More than one friend is in treatment for cancer.  Others are grieving the tragic loss of a neighbour.  Still others are struggling to survive in a daily high-stress and oppressive environment which they cannot escape.  

At times like that, I'm grateful that even with the problems I have in my own life, I have the blessings I have as well.  One of those blessings just so happens to be that I don't have any of those horrible situations in my life right now.  I do feel for those folks who do have those life-and-death situations in their lives just now, and I do pray for them - for healing, for peace, for strength.  But at the same time I do thank God that I've been spared some of what they have had to endure. And I can be thankful for some other things too. 

I thank God that He's with those friends in a very real way, and that He's given them the strength to face their own "valley of bitterness" and shine as bright lights through it, beacons of faith for those who will look.  Watching them in their journey has shed so much light on my own path.  I cannot begin to describe how phenomenal that is.

And when it comes to my own comparatively insignificant problems, I can be thankful that no matter how small a matter is, God is still interested in it, if it's important to me. Not because it's important to Him, but because I AM.  That realization just blows me away, every - single - time.

I can be thankful that at one time, not too awfully long ago, my life was a terrific mess, and that God saw fit to meet me in the middle of that mess and transform me, take my ashes and grant me some of His beauty.  I can now truly thank God that I was in the state that I was in - because if I hadn't been, I wouldn't be in a position to be able to relate to people who are now in the same situation that I once faced.  I wouldn't be able to tell them that things do get better when He is given carte blanche on a day-by-day, moment-by-moment basis.  Even if I did tell them - if I hadn't had the mess in my Christian past that I did, these suffering believers would never believe me, and some would never be able even to admit that they suffer as well (and so begin their own path of healing).  It's the story I have - such as it is - that allows me to be able to walk people through their own journey if they so wish.  It's the reason I wrote my book (see the right margin); it's one of the reasons I blog.  

When I am in the midst of a "situation" - it helps me gain perspective to allow myself to really feel what I'm feeling: to admit it is there without hiding from it. That way I can deal with the feelings head-on, and get from them what they're trying to tell me about my inner life.  Then I can release them and move on in gratitude. At that point, I can experience God's peace, and somehow, the problem doesn't seem so large anymore.  

I can't escape from my circumstances. And I can't escape from my feelings.  I know; I tried.  The more I tried to escape from my feelings, the more they pursued me, the larger they became.  So I've learned to seek a divine perspective early on in the game, and give myself permission to be human and to not have all the answers, to leave the answers to God.  

He's always had them anyway.