Munificent Mercy - Greathearted Grace

One of the terms that you don't hear much anymore in the English language is "munificent." It means generous, giving and unselfish to the extreme. 

Every so often, I dig out a word like that and roll it around on my tongue, meditate on it as one of the character attributes of God, and apply it to other character traits He has. 

When I thought of "munificent," the word "mercy" came to mind. Automatically. (Never mind that they both start with the letter M...) God's mercy is over and above what anyone deserves. Including people of the Way. 

I forget that. I get so full of myself sometimes; I think I'm something special, which in a way I am as an adopted child of the Great King, but I get to taking credit for that when I know perfectly well it has nothing to do with me, but with the relationship I have with God, the one that Jesus paid the ultimate price for me to be able to have. Without His munificent mercy, I would be stuck in the mire, unable to get out of my own slime. 

Jesus made that possible, pulled me out of the pit. I couldn't get out on my own - not in a million billion years.

Royalty-free image used by permission.
"The Cross and the Hand" photo courtesy of its creator, njaj , at
http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/

And then on top of that ... He gave me His grace, out of His great Heart of love. This is what I think of as "Beyond" or as one of my kids said once, "A and B the C of D - Above and Beyond the Call of Duty" ... and then some ... because when you get right down to it, He didn't have to.  

He's God - He was not obligated (as in duty-bound) to provide a Way of redemption. He did it because He wanted to do it. He wanted to do it ... because He. Loves. Us. 

He. Loves. Me. Always has, always will. 

Greathearted grace. Not only removing the penalty of my insufficiency, but lavishing on me all the unconditional love I can stand, and more besides. Covering me, paying for me, believing in me: past, present, and future. Every thought, every moment, every motive, every word spoken, every time I could have said or done something but didn't. Acceptance with no strings attached. Approval in spite of my failings. Betrothal even while I was / am sullied by my own mediocrity. His patience even in the midst of my pain. His forgiveness even while I'm acting out, "in the very act." If that isn't cause for gratitude, if that doesn't spark devotion in me, if I want to take advantage or abuse that kind of generosity, then I've not understood either the depths of my own depravity or the deeper depths of His mercy and grace. Or both.

If / when I do start to grasp even part of that, it's so easy to want to live a life that's focused on Him, pleasing to Him. I don't have to try to have that desire, that passion ... it just comes; whether I "do it right" or not, I know He is delighted in my heart's desire. That passion for Him, the desire to put His wants above my own ... flows out of my innermost being, the one that is so thankful for every nasty thing He has taken away from me that I deserved, and every amazing thing He has given to me that I could never, ever earn ... all from the lavish love and goodness, the munificent mercy of His greathearted grace.

Pigeons, parakeets and peregrines

Ever been pigeon-holed? 

It's not a comfortable feeling. Someone (or a group of people) only thinks of you in one capacity, and when you stray outside of that, they don't know what to do with you. You might be considered as having become too big for your britches, or any number of other, less flattering adjectives or comparisons. 

A pigeon-hole is what they called those little cubby-holes in secretary desks long ago. Each hole had a specific thing that went in there, and it was a great way to organize items so you could find them easily. 

The problem with doing that to people is that they are a lot more complex than that. 

Some years ago at work, I qualified for serious consideration for an executive position, scoring among the top three in the country. When my co-workers found out that I was being considered for this, they couldn't believe it. To them, I was a clerk. They couldn't get their minds around the fact that I could be anything else. Someone even had the gall to tell me that I couldn't be in leadership until I lost some weight. (Seriously?) 

This tendency that folks have to categorize (and I'm no different, hence the title of this post!) can have disastrous effects. Recently, one woman killed herself because she knew that she would always and forever be known as the nurse that got duped into allowing impostors access to information about a well-known celebrity. Being in that kind of pigeon-hole was too much for her. So, she ended it. 

Just because we're in the church doesn't mean we're immune. In fact, sometimes the church community is a fish-bowl for all kinds of disturbing attitudes and behaviors which some folks think, say and do without considering the consequences. The reason I call it a fish-bowl is that it isn't done in a corner; non church-goers see what happens and stay away in droves, and those children who've grown up in the church are leaving as soon as they can and never coming back. 

Someone gets pigeon-holed into a specific category, and if they decide to branch out and stray away from that one spot, they get dumped on by all the other pigeons. Stay where you're put. Don't dream of anything more. This is where your "gifting" lies. Remember your place.

Another way that pigeon-holing happens is in the church versus outside-church dynamic. Just because I have to talk to you or interact with you at church doesn't mean you're a part of my life. Don't approach me on the street and say hi; I won't acknowledge your presence even if I'm standing in line waiting at the grocery store in the same line-up as you. If I see you waiting there, I might even choose a different lineup just so I'm not in that uncomfortable position. Yes. It happens. It's hurtful, but it happens all the time. 

The truth is that people are people. Inside the church, outside the church, people are people. As the deaf community says, "same-same." That folks think there is a difference is a sad testament to how compartmentalized and out of touch some churches have become. 

In a way, we can be like parakeets, parroting back what we're told over and over and over again, without understanding why we're saying it, singing it, thinking it. The jargon, the way we learn to talk in the church atmosphere, is unlike anything one hears in the outside world. Nobody talks like that! Imagine if a parakeet went back to the jungle and said "Pretty bird" to its wild cousins all the time. It wouldn't make any sense! 

Terms like "taking authority" and "speaking in faith" are bandied about in the church until we think that this is the way normal people speak and think. Then when we start talking like that outside the church, normal people think we're nuts! And then we pat ourselves on the back and convince ourselves that we are being persecuted for Jesus' sake and for the gospel's. ("Pretty bird.") We're not being persecuted because of the gospel. We're being left alone or laughed at because we're just plain weird. I know because I have acted and spoken this way and have been treated like a pariah, only to congratulate myself that I was being a light for Christ. In actual fact, I was driving people away from the gospel, because the very folks I was trying to reach said to themselves, "If this is what being a Christian is all about, count me out." 

The pigeon in the pigeon-hole and the parakeet that can say "Pretty bird" have one thing in common, aside from the fact that they are both seed-eaters and both quite numerous and found congregating in large groups.

They're in captivity. 

Peregrine Falcon
Photo Courtesy of Tom Curtis at
FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Harder to find, much fewer in number, and breathtakingly beautiful is the peregrine falcon. 

Misunderstood and feared, too. 

It would be foolish to pigeon-hole one of these gorgeous and intelligent birds, nor would you even dream of trying to teach it to say, "Pretty bird."  Its natural state is soaring high above, dancing on currents and updrafts of air it can't see but can feel, extremely focused and aware of its surroundings, the perfect illustration of liberty. 

Yes, some have been domesticated - but even then, the falconer is keenly aware that this creature is not a "pet." It isn't "tame" in the traditional sense of the word. 

Like eagles and hawks, when in the wild, it leads a relatively solitary life, living in small nuclear family groups, nesting in high, craggy, inaccessible spots. These are the "safe places" to which it returns to rest, to nourish itself, to protect its mate and feed its young. As simple as that is, there is one inescapable attraction: the creature is free. I often long for that kind of life inside, a life of freedom, of not being bound by tradition, rules, categories, and cages. I can't really say I've attained that level yet - but it's something to which I aspire. 

I don't want to be in a pigeon-hole anymore. I don't want to put anyone else there, either. I'm tired of saying "pretty bird" without knowing why. I want to live, really live in communion with the heavens, putting all my weight on the unseen, resting when I'm tired, feeding my soul when it's hungry, being secure and unfettered. If that means that I risk being lonely and isolated at times, perhaps that's a price I might be willing to pay if it means being that much closer to the open sky.

Feeling like Christmas

It hasn't felt much like Christmas this year. 

Maybe it's because the month of December has been fraught with sickness and the stress that comes from having to squeeze a month's worth of Christmas shopping into just a couple of days (hence - gift cards don't quite cut it!)  Maybe it's because there hasn't been much snow. (Naah, for me that's not it.) Maybe it's because we had been looking forward to all being able to go out to a peaceful, serene candle-light Christmas Eve service which turned out to be anything but - for those of us that were even well enough to go at all. :( 

Maybe it's because we've not been able to sing since early December, so it's seemed pointless to have Christmas music in the house. (We like to sing along.) 

Perhaps it's because right around the time the sickness started, there was an injury that put one of our family into a wheelchair and off work. Our days have been pre-occupied with making the house accessible - when we've been able to expend the energy to do manual labor. 

It could be that we were so weak that we couldn't get the tree put up until December 15 instead of the first weekend in December. 

As I look at all those possible reasons, nowhere do I find anything about what the season is really about. All I see are traditions to which we've become attached and which weren't possible. 

I had "Christmas Moments" a couple of times this month, but they had nothing to do with the traditions. They had to do with giving something to someone who needed it, who couldn't possibly afford it, or who wouldn't get something like [fill in the blank] for him or her self. Nowhere was there the thought of being paid back (or of that mentality that says, "Well SHE spent twenty dollars on MY gift so I have to spend at least twenty dollars on HERS." (Yikes!) It was simple giving, from the heart, made all the more special because it was unexpected without keeping score. 

Once I let go of my preconceived notions, my hopes of what I would experience, and started focusing on the Reason we mark December 25 on the calendar - the baby in the manger, the light in the darkness, the way opened to everyone who would open the door to Him - that's when it happened. 

It started "feeling like Christmas." 

It didn't matter that there wasn't any snow, or many presents under the tree. It didn't matter that plans were foiled, that the whole Christmas Eve traditions were ruined, or that we weren't able to sing Christmas carols and go look at the lights. 

Christmas morning came, just the same. Sitting around the tree, one of us read the Christmas story (not the "Night Before Christmas" poem by Samuel Clemens, but the one in Luke 2!) and we went to Youtube and found the song we always sing. We let the Brooklyn Tabernacle choir sing it instead - and as usually happens - I 'teared up'. 

There wasn't anything super-special about the whole thing. And soon, I'll be starting to get the Christmas meal ready, with all the hard work that entails.

And it still feels like Christmas.

Co-workers with God

I love it when God works something out that a bunch of His people have been praying about, and allows us to participate in the outcome with the prayers and the support He allows us to offer. 

A buddy of mine was in quite a bind lately. The situation was absolutely hopeless. On a fixed income and limited in what she could pay for rent, she was told she could no longer live in her apartment, which cost $200 more per month than she could afford (long story but suffice to say that this was due to someone else's bad choices.) The apartment kept her from the elements, but that was about it. The heating was off-and-on, there was mold, there were other issues as well. And her landlord basically said, "Well if you can't afford this amount of money, you have to be out of here by the end of November." Plunged into this situation with little time to arrange for a place to stay, she put her name into subsidized housing programs; no joy there. She tried to find an apartment for the maximum she was supposed to pay on her fixed income and still leave money to buy groceries and pay other bills, but there were no apartments available that weren't (as she called them) "dives." 

Her situation was doubly compounded by the fact that any place she went would need to accept pets - in particular, cats - because her kitties are her babies; she would never go anywhere they were not welcome.

A few weeks ago, as she and others were making her situation a matter of more concentrated prayer, she received a call from a telemarketer one evening. On a whim, she answered the phone. The young man asked if she wanted to donate to some worthy cause; she was unable to and told the man a little of her situation. He asked if he could call her back, and he did a few days later with the cell phone number of her local Member of Legislative Assembly (the Canadian equivalent of a State-level elected representative). He told her to call this number and say that he had given out this number.

In fear and trembling, she did. She told her MLA the situation and he was shocked at the amount to which she was limited for rent and more shocked at her total monthly income! He asked how she even managed for groceries! Then he said to call his personal assistant on the next working day, and tell that person exactly what she had told him... which she did. Then .... nothing happened - for over a week. In the meantime, she was getting more and more desperate. Through the kindness of a friend of a friend, more options surfaced. Yet, there were no openings. So it seemed, anyway. 

A nice apartment kitchen

Last night, my friend got home from volunteering at a local charity and saw a message on her voice mail. It was Seniors housing (one of the subsidized housing programs); they wanted to talk to her. They called her again this morning. "We have a place we would like you to look at; you may not like it but why don't you come and have a look?" 

She went, bathed in prayer by all who knew about it. The moment she stepped into the place she fell head over heels in love with it. It had lots of storage space, a larger kitchen than the one she has now, and her own designated parking space, in a nice quiet neighborhood, as well as an in-house laundry - all included. Timidly, unable to believe how amazing this place was, she asked them if they took cats. 

"Yes, we do," came the answer. 

That was the clincher! They assumed she wanted some lead time to pack. "I'm already packed," she informed them, and within an hour they made arrangements for her to pick up her key. On this coming Friday the 30th - the last day of this month - the very day her lease runs out on the old apartment, she signs the papers and picks up her key.

Whether the politician was able to make a plea for her, or whether some people ahead of her on the list decided not to participate in the program any more, we don't know. All we know is that God has been in control of this process from the get-go, and He worked things out in such a way that He gets all the credit. 

Being able to be a small part of the process and having the privilege of watching this happen up close ... has been nothing short of thrilling. Hearing the excitement in her voice as she was telling me about her new place and also sharing how much better off she is now than even 2 months ago has been such an encouragement. 

I thought I'd share this story because it is often discouraging to pray and pray and pray for something that seems never to come. We think that we are not making a difference. Our faith falters. Yet Jesus said that nothing is impossible with God. So we wonder if there might be something wrong with our faith. I know I have.

I recently read an article written by a Scottish pastor who actually reads ancient Hebrew and ancient Greek. He talked about that verse and said that it was not quite translated the way that we think it was. In the original, the sentence reads more like, "What God speaks as 'rhema' (sometimes spelled 'rema') that is, His personal word to your situation, is going to happen. Period. Even if it seems impossible; if He has spoken to you, He will accomplish it."

When we pray God's "rhema" word, we can have full assurance that it will happen. My friend was led back here by God a couple of years ago from out of province - and it was like He told her in no uncertain terms that this was where she was to be; her support network was here, and she was to be here. 

So when her world toppled a couple of months ago, and this stressful situation was created through no fault of her own, the temptation was so great to question whether she'd really heard right. Yet deep in her heart she knew that God wanted her here with friends and in community with other believers. 

We as her friends and fellow-believers could co-operate with God's will for her by praying that He would provide a place for her to live. He left it to almost the last minute - as usual - but when crunch time came - He came through. And we who were praying for her were able to rejoice in her miracle, knowing that in some small way, we had the blessing of participating in it. 

I also wanted to share this story so that someday, if ever someone is in that spot, that place where all human avenues had been exhausted and it's a question of, "Will God do for me what I know He CAN do?" he or she can look at this story ... and take heart.

Goat-herds and shepherds

There is one major difference between a goat-herd and a shepherd, other than the fact that one herds goats and the other herds sheep. (For the purpose of NOT making this post difficult to read by putting a lot of references in to "his or her" - I'll just say "his" - you can assume I also mean "her" if that's what floats your boat.)

It's the manner in which each gets his charges to go where they need to be.  

A young goat-herd motivates his charges to move.

The goat-herd positions himself somewhere to the rear of the group and uses his stick to whack the goats on the side or the backside to drive them in the direction he wants them to go. His means of motivating his goats is external. Basically, he tells them with his stick, "You're not where you should be. Go there. Do that. Stop doing this." 

The shepherd, on the other hand, goes ahead of his flock. He calls to them and moves forward. The sheep trust him and follow willingly. He carries a stick, but it has a crook in the top to rescue the sheep who's caught in a thorn-bush, to hook around its neck or under a leg to pull it to safety. The other end - the rod end - is to ward off enemies; its use is for punishment. Rarely if ever does the shepherd use the rod on his sheep. His way of making the sheep go where he wants is by going there himself first, and they will want to follow; he doesn't have to whack them. They learn to trust the staff as an extension of his loving care for them, and be grateful that the shepherd is there to protect them from the predators with his rod.

In the church, a problem arises when shepherds, entrusted with the care of their flock, act like goat-herds. A sheep treated like a goat will end up acting like a goat: rebellious, inattentive, mistrusting, and stubborn. 

It is indeed frustrating to see people floundering around in their own free will and heading into danger zones. It is frustrating to see empty prayer rooms and altars full of bless-me Christians, overworked people in ministries with nobody to give them any respite, folks with seemingly nothing better to do than criticize those who ARE working their tails off, and interpersonal conflicts that nobody seems to want to resolve, each thinking that it's the other's responsibility to make the first move. The natural tendency is to want to yell at them, shake them, do something to make them behave themselves so that the desired result is produced. The problem is that for the most part, that kind of approach is met with even more of the same. People will become more stubborn, more needy, more selfish. It's the push-push-back reaction. 

It takes something of the divine to launch out in front instead, and show the way, to trust the results to God. For, as if I had to spell it out, it is not the shepherd's job to "make" his flock do anything. Effecting change in someone is not anyone's job but One - the One who is even now interceding on our behalf and who groans within each of us to transform us into better people from the inside out. Leading is a labor of love. And it's also an exercise in trust - trusting God and also trusting the people who are being led. Intimidation, sarcasm, and shame are weapons ... and not ever to be used on the flock. 

Lean on the staff

May I go a step further here and say a personal word about the notion that many leaders have regarding leadership? I am not merely speaking to pastors here. I am also talking to anyone in a position of leadership, from a church ministry to a parent to a coach.

One of the most powerful statements I ever heard from a pastor was this, "Don't be afraid to lead with a limp." He talked about Jacob - the time when he wrestled with someone a lot stronger than he was (who turned out to be what most Bible scholars call a "pre-incarnation manifestation of Jesus") and would not let go until He blessed him. This powerful being touched him in his hip (and blessed him when he would not let go even then, changing his name to Israël), and ever afterward, Jacob walked with a limp. It was a reminder to him that once God touches your life, you are never the same again. But it is also a reminder to us that vulnerability doesn't make you a weaker person; it makes you a stronger one because people see your desire to follow the Master even when it is hard, even when you can't do it as well as someone else might. 

That vulnerability keeps you humble, keeps you depending on God instead of relying on your own strength.  It prevents you from being arrogant and judgmental. 

Paul knew about this too ... most intimately!! He called his "thorn in the flesh" a "messenger of Satan to buffet me." Yet we learn from the book of Job that nothing happens without God's okay. So, when Paul asked that this hindrance be removed, God said NO. It was a sure bet that Paul's thorn in the flesh (whatever it was) hampered his efforts, limited his ability to do what he thought he "should" be doing. (See my series on "shoulds and oughtas" for an in-depth discussion of that whole topic, search for it on Get Unwrapped!) But God wasn't interested in how MUCH Paul did FOR Him but in how much HE could do in PAUL. Bingo. Here is the crux of the matter. God is only interested in conforming us into the image of His Son Jesus (Romans 8:29) and if the truth were told, THAT is the "good" that He causes all things to work together for (vs. 28). 

It's okay if the sheep see you limping, leaning on the staff once in a while. It helps them identify with you. Gone are the days when ministers, parents, and leaders needed to project the image of invulnerability, of "having it all together." That kind of image smacks of authoritarianism ... and makes the rest of us feel as though there's something wrong with us when we get tired, or bored, or frustrated with ourselves, when in fact, those feelings are perfectly normal and human. Or it might make us feel resentful that you seem to expect us to be carbon copies of you, when that's not necessarily what God has called us to be. Perhaps.

I would venture to say that the limp, the vulnerability, the weakness of which you are so ashamed, makes you a better leader. It gives you compassion. It helps you remember that the process of self-improvement ... or sanctification if you want to call it that ... is just that - a process. It isn't a destination and it is no human's responsibility to produce that in anyone else's life. It is an outflow of a relationship with God that bursts out of its little box and takes over more and more of an individual's life. It spills out over all other relationships: with self, with others. It is not your responsibility to make that happen. Quite frankly, it is God's.  He's been doing it for a very long time. He's probably qualified. ;)

So perhaps it's better to follow the Good Shepherd, pay attention to your own spiritual growth, and just live your life. He'll take care of the rest. And along the way, some people might see you following Him, and they might do the same, in a way that is unique to them. 

So much the better.

The Blow Torch

"Be angry, and sin not; let not the sun go down on your wrath."

I've heard the above verse quoted all my life. Usually it was followed by a warning to not go to bed angry, and a sermon (formal or not) on the evils of anger.

I have a problem with that. If anger is so bad, why does the passage say to be angry in  the first place? What it the verse doesn't mean what everyone seems to think it does? What if it's telling us to not let our anger go down and lose power like the setting sun? 

Oo-oo. That puts a whole new spin on it. I know the verse warns about sinning (that would be, being angry at a person and not at an injustice or an unwise way of thinking)... but just imagine for a moment if we have been getting it wrong for generations and that this has prevented us from righting wrongs that have gone unchallenged. The Scriptures say that God is angry every day. Ouch! And what exactly was Jesus doing when He cleansed the temple with an improvised whip? teaching Sunday school? 

Blowtorches are useful tools
but dangerous weapons.

Anger is like a flame. Out of control, it can cause great damage. However, if used as a tool, it can accomplish great things, just like a blow torch: refine the flame, make it hotter and more efficient, and use it the way it was intended, and it can do things that we couldn't hope to do otherwise. 

Abraham Lincoln was angry that people were buying and selling other people as property. He turned up the heat - and when others caught the fire, there was a lot of damage done, granted - but he refined that flame and brought freedom to the oppressed. The suffragettes were angry that women were denied the vote. You get the picture. 

It's when we use it on each other that it becomes wrong. That's when the fire can burn out of control because the blow torch was never meant to touch human flesh. It was meant to do a specific job - to build, to help, to cut through obstacles. It was never meant as a weapon. 

It was also never meant to be concealed or denied. Believing that anger is wrong and denying its existence is like having a blow torch on and trying to put a blanket over it. It will burn the blanket, for one thing! It will also come out in an area you never intended it to ... and the results of that are not pretty... The outcome is far worse than grabbing hold of the torch the way it was meant to be used ... and treat it with the respect it deserves.

Power failure

"...His divine power has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence..." - 2 Peter 1:3 NASB

God: unlimited power; unlimited love. Yet He's promised that we can access all we'll ever need to live life fully, to be like Him. In fact, He tells us that He's already given it to us.

No way. Not this little black sheep!!

Trying to wrap my understanding around this concept is difficult! However, I remembered an unbelievable sight I saw once: during a thunderstorm in broad daylight, we were driving past an electrical substation. In a nearby field, about  a hundred and fifty feet from us, there was this tall evergreen tree - it would have been about four feet in diameter at the base.

Lightning strikes a tree - a photo I found at
Solar Navigator

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck the tree. In a moment of time, it was transformed into a brilliant four-foot column of white light that arced all the way into the sky! Almost exactly at the same time, we heard a giant "CRRRRAACK!!!" and I watched in amazement as the huge tree literally exploded into splinters, all of which caught fire and burned into ash before they even reached the ground. What remained was a jagged stump left in the earth, only barely singed where the electricity had surged through it. Remarkable.

I was only vaguely aware of a metallic smell in the air.

This all happened in the short time it took to drive past the substation: about 5 seconds. I was breathless with awe, humbled at the raw power of it. And so grateful that it was over there, not right here.

The power contained in that one bolt of lightning, earth to sky, according to scientists, would have been about a trillion volts - that's a million million volts! It's infinitely greater than the current that courses through the electrical cable that runs from the power pole outside our house to the house itself, and even THAT is enough to kill someone many times over. Even in that form, though more controlled, it is still unusable, inaccessible by the average person.

All that power available to us - yet we are unable to get at it, to use it. 

Kind of like 2 Peter 1:3 is at first blush. "His divine power" is pretty big. How can I tap into that kind of force in a meaningful way? in a way that gives me the power to live life to the full?

About four years ago, we had some electricians come in and update our wiring. They took out the old fuse box and replaced it with a circuit-breaker box. They increased the number of lines that ran into the box and left some spares in case we wanted to add other lines. They re-routed some of the extra electricity that was making our fuses overload, and put those lines on a separate circuit of their own. They re-labelled the lines. 

I don't think much about electricity. I just use it, for all practical purposes not even thinking about all the nasty things it COULD do to me or of the possibilities that could ensue when I flip a switch. Even though I know it could burn down not only the house but the whole neighborhood, I act as though I'm unaware of the potential, and avail myself of that power as if it's just part of my everyday life. It's dark; I turn on a light. I'm hungry; I go to the fridge or I use the stove to cook something. I don't have to plead and beg the power lines to bring that current into the house; it's already there. I just need to live my life. The power just comes. 

It's just there. Period. The thing of it is that with God, He's already provided the power, paid the bill, and run the lines. The hookup is there and the power engaged the moment I entered, of my own free will, into a relationship with Him. The only way I wouldn't be able to access that power would be if there was some sort of interruptor blocking the current from getting through, something bleeding off the power and diverting it into somewhere it's not supposed to be. 

Perhaps it's a live wire that's hidden behind the wall in my past somewhere - one that isn't hooked up to anything but is just sitting there funneling power away from where it will do the most good. If I brush up against that (or if someone else touches it!), or if other (flammable) debris gets in there as well, it could be very dangerous not only for me, but for those I love. Even a small spark can burn unseen behind those walls and engulf the entire house before I even know it's there.

Perhaps I'm just trying to do too much on my own - and overloading one area of my life (or a lot of areas of my life) too much. It happens. Perhaps the lines have gotten crudded and dirty, frayed over time with much use - or disuse. Maybe I need new wires; or, maybe they've gotten crossed and hooked up the wrong way. I might need professional help if that's the case. 

Good thing I have a Live-In Inspector who'll come alongside me and show me what needs updating ... or rewiring. 

I think I'll have a chat with Him.