Crushed

There is a deep beauty that runs through this life.
So intrinsically woven even Death cannot remove its brilliant color.
The Fool of Death believes in only the finite-end and cannot see what Death has unknowingly ushered.
Such a force and violent quake; the veil separating the Shadow from the True is torn with power.

An in-breaking finds us and blinds with what earthly eyes are not conditioned to see.
A potency of rich beauty released, so strong, so pure, it can no longer be contained.
Tasting such fullness from the Source brings the knowledge that what was before was a thin diluted true.
Bearing witness to such power I erupt with confession:
"Even now, even here, it is good".

What's in My Journal

Odd things, like a button drawer. Mean
things, fishhooks, barbs in your hand.
But marbles too. A genius for being agreeable.
Junkyard crucifixes, voluptuous
discards. Space for knickknacks, and for
Alaska. Evidence to hang me, or to beatify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected
anyway. Deliberate obfuscation, the kind
that takes genius. Chasms in character.
Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above
a new grave. Pages you know exist
but you can't find them. Someone's terribly
inevitable life story, maybe mine.

                                                   - William Stafford

Compelled to Confess

I was compelled to confess this week.  Not my sin but my affirmation.  This confession was not given as if to convince myself, rather it welled up within me until I burst with belief.

I believe God is who he says he is; and he is good.

I believe my children are who he says they are; his beloved.

I believe my wife and I are who he says we are; his children.

I believe the power of death is great and certain; but there is a power still greater.

I believe the resurrection has the last word and it will be spoken forever.

God's Absence

I have often been told that when one first turns to God, one is greeted with brilliant 'Yes' answers to prayers.  For a long time that was true for me.  But then, when he has you hooked, he starts to say 'No'.  This has been, indeed, my experience.  But it has been more than a 'No' answer lately; after all, 'No' is an answer.  It is the silence, the withdrawal, which is so devastating.  the world is difficult enough with God; without him it is a hideous joke.

Madeleine L'Engle, The Irrational Season

We have been fooled to believe that following after God always brings clarity and dispels any confusion.  In this instance Religion is exceedingly helpful; an answer for everything and everything in order.  Yet somewhere along life's path the construct of Religion (whether it be our religious fervour for politics, god, or human ingenuity) is tested by the weight of the unpredictable mess-of-life.  We work diligently to ensure that the structure of our Religion can withstand the pressure.  We double our efforts, deepen our convictions, and attack out of our own survival.

There is so much at stake; there is too much to lose.

Our self-preservational instincts to double our efforts around our ideologies will only shroud us from the depth and vastness of God.  We will live small lives if we hold on too tightly for fear that our life may actually be lost.

This is the descriptive of a grown-up-mature faith.  One that no longer is seduced by an answer for everything and can instead, in the stillness of God's absence, continue the journey in faith.

"Anxious Hope"

22x30 Watercolor

Do Not Be Afraid to Be Afraid

Too often I try and convince myself that I am not afraid.  Why?  Well, because I am 35 and should be old enough to have figured things out, because I am a Christian, and Christians should trust and not worry.  So the convincing goes on... "I am not afraid"...I tell myself.  And all the while I long to hear God's reassuring voice in agreement, "That's right, you're not afraid" God would say, but that voice of agreement never comes.

Silence.

My voice amplifies, "God, where are you?!?!  I'm telling you I'm not afraid, now show yourself!"

Silence still.

"Some god this is..."  I think to myself; all the while living the not-afraid-life.

I've come to recognize that my statements of "I am not afraid" are really a smoke screen trying to divert my attention from my real fears.  My fears of failure, my fears of not being liked, me fears of not finding my vocational groove, my fears that I will fail my family.  So I continue with my brave I'm-not-afraid-self.  And the truth?....

I am terrified.

I am afraid.

There is freedom in being able to say "I am afraid."  If I boldly and brashly exclaim that I have no fear then what need is there for God to respond?  Even if He did, what would I expect him to say?  "Great job, you're not afraid, way to go, you're fantastic".  There is no reason for God to speak when I've told Him I know what I'm doing and I know where to go.  God does not intrude with the contrary or try and convince otherwise.

God's silence comes because I've offered Him no room to step into the truth of my fear.  But when I can openly express before the throne of grace that "I am afraid" God reaches back.

God appears.  "Take courage" He says.  "For I am with you."

My inability to speak my fear keeps God silent.  Speaking my fear opens the floodgates of God's ever present voice.

Do not be afraid to be afraid.

What If I Had...?

Reflecting on our past is necessary but dangerous territory.  At its best it can point to those elements that make up our true self and at its worse it can push us in an escalating spiral downward.

The "What if I had...?"

A villain and thief in the worst way.  You could also attach the "I should have..." and "Why didn't I?"  These phrases paralyze us in our past and promote fear for our future.  These are difficult adversaries.  They bring along with them a never-ending lament and a self-wallowing despair.  This kind of reflection is hell-bent on devouring you.

And it will.

Recognizing this, many of us, in an act of self preservation, will avoid reflecting on the past and work at convincing ourselves that "tomorrow will be better" and that "life is what you make it".  Yet this is the false self uttering its clever voice once again.  Do not trade your past reflection for some future, propped up on serendipitous thinking.  Instead, shift your question.

"God, where are you...?"

This shift takes the pressure off of us to solve and gives God the space to surface.  It allows us to find grace in our inconsistent past and provides us with the generosity needed to be benevolent to our imperfect selves.  We shift from focusing on operation to  God's occupation and become introduced to the God who lives in past, present and future.

Yet this question is not without its difficulty.  What if in uttering this question you hear nothing?  What if God's silence is the only thing that occupies past experience?  What if...

Let go of the "What if..."  Ask God to show you where he is and where he has been at work.  The voice may be small at first but as you learn its distinct sound trust and follow; the voice will grow.  When life cloaks you with enough darkness to shroud the face of God keep asking, "Where Lord, are you?" 

This is a grown-up question.  A question of maturity and faith.  It requires the audacity to demand that God reveal himself and the tenacity to pester until he does.

As you journey through this day, in reflection of the past and in anticipation for the future, call to God and may you be open to hear him utter, "I am here".