Feeling Really Uncomfortable --Thank God!

The sense I should have said more --said something --gnaws at me. On Tuesday, I'd left the house to run some errands. Upon leaving, I realized I'd forgotten something and ran back inside. Upon making it halfway to the store, I realized I'd forgotten something else and had no choice but to turn around. When I finally made it all the way to the store, I entered and began to fill my list.

Excuse me, Miss. 

He called me Miss and not Ma'am --why wouldn't I answer? Turns out, he was looking for some advice on a product; would it help his cold. As he stood over me, telling me a strange story of how he caught this cold, I could feel the spray from his lips landing on my face. I politely attempted to distance myself. He continued telling me he was eager for the Kingdom of God to be established here on earth --this non sequitur occurred sometime after our second Have a good day; I hope it helps, and a Columbo-worthy Oh, just one more thing, Miss. I'm never not amazed at the rapid way the brain functions; thoughts raced through my mind. Is he mentally ill? He's really difficult to understand. I can not get sick! Is he just a lonely widower? He's neatly dressed. Does he have a shrine and newspaper cutouts posted in his house somewhere? There are too many witnesses for him to try anything. Now, you're being crazy, Judi. Poor guy. Oh, my goodness, I cannot get sick!! Then I caught, or thought I caught the words "JW-dot-org." Wait, is he Jehovah's Witness? Seconds later, Yep! There it is again. Now, what do I say? Mind you, all the while, the clock is ticking. I've been delayed twice just trying to get to this place; this little sidebar just seemed like divine appointment. But I wasn't having any of it. This is out of my wheelhouse, Jesus! At that point, I looked for any way I could to end the conversation and made a hasty exit. 

And now, today, the sense I should have said more --said something --gnaws at me.

It gnaws at me because I believe with surety it was divine appointment. Because I willfully chose not to obey. Because I placed the priority of my list over the eternal life of another and over God's command to Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you. (Matthew 28: 19, 20) Because I didn't know what to say, nor did I ask the Holy Spirit for the words. Because --and this is the wickedness of my old nature --I said to myself, "Well, maybe God didn't exactly expect me to talk to him about Jesus. Maybe He just put him there so I can pray for him." Ugh! Yes, I actually spoke that drivel in my heart. The man struck up a conversation with me! Of course I was supposed to talk to him about Jesus!

Have I asked Jesus to forgive me, to change me, to give me the grace to obey Him, to provide me with the words? Yes, and I am grateful for that. Have I pledged myself to repentance? Yes, I even asked Him for another shot --though reluctantly, I admit, because I figure it will come at a time when I am even more hurried and more distracted by the potential for getting sick. But if the second call to obey is not more uncomfortable for me to answer than it was the first time (see John 21:15-19), how will I know I have received the grace of the King of kings? How will I know it is in His strength and under His sovereignty I now live? What will I have learned from all of this gnawing?

He who disdains instruction despises his own soul,
But he who heeds rebuke gets understanding.
~ Proverbs 15:32

Midweek: Dragon Slayer

Once upon a time, there was a valiant knight. He was known throughout all the land as the Slayer of Serpents, the Deliverer of Damsels, and the Protector of All Things Pure. There was not a foe who could defeat him. That is, until a dragon came calling.

The knight was spending an afternoon sparring with some squires. Training was arduous work; his muscles ached, and his armor chafed his skin. Sweat flowed from his brow and burned his eyes. His sword seemed to grow heavier with each thrust. Suddenly, the sky grew dark, and the wind began to swirl. The squires fled, but the knight drew himself up and stood fearless, armed and ready to meet his foe should he dare to show himself. Dare, he did, and a dragon lunged forth out of the darkness and leaned slowly toward the valiant champion's ear. 

Lay down your weapons, O valiant one, the beast goaded. 

Do you think me a fool? I will not, was the knight's reply.

Pick up this razor wire instead, said the fiend. It is a much better tool against me in the hands of an adversary such as yourself. I need not tell you how to use it to slay me; you are able and mighty. Surely you know that by wrapping yourself and all of your world in it, you would be safe from harm. If I so much as dare to come near you or those you love, I would be sliced to ribbons and meet my fate. I would be gone, and you would be a greater victor than you are today.

The cavalier looked at the razor wire. I could wrap all I love in this. The enemy can hardly help himself; he will charge me and be decimated upon it. He will lie down in eternal sleep and torment no one again.

And with that, the fearless knight flung his shield, wrenched off his armor, threw his sword to the ground, and picked up the razor wire. It cut him mercilessly as he wrapped it around his arms, his legs, his torso. He set to work, binding the whole of the kingdom tightly within its grip. It dug into his flesh and the flesh of those he loved as he wrapped each one tightly again and again. He became more entangled as he toiled, and the razor wire slowly severed his limbs; the pain was excruciating, but he pressed on believing this vile bondage to be not only the better weapon, but now, the only weapon. There was no turning back: just a few more twists and all the kingdom, thoroughly swathed, would see the dragon meet his demise!

But the dragon simply leaned back and smiled. All the knight loved, every bit of himself was bound and bloody, slashed and torn within the razor-sharp mass. The kingdom and its inhabitants were broken and weak. The once courageous warrior was a shell of his former self, his blood running in streams to the feet of the hideous beast. And pleased with the offering, the dragon lapped it up as he stared straight into the fading eyes of the collapsed hero.

~~~~~~~~

For those caught in addiction, for those who have sought to mitigate their pain and trauma, their fear and angst through the abuse of substances, the story of the knight is no fable. His choices were foolish; he believed an obvious lie. But he had a voracious appetite for normalcy and a willingness to try anything at his disposal. He was tenacious, pushing on in the nonsensicality of the scheme, hoping things would, at some point be turned around, even though he'd chosen the worst path possible. The razor wire of addiction begins with a lie. This just might work. This is just for now. Those caught in addiction are some of the most hopeful people I know: their hope, however, is in the worst of solutions. What follows is a harsh dose of reality, as the first cuts are made.  And the lie no longer holds any enticement, no promise of victory. Only failure. You have failed your people, you have failed your kingdom, you have failed yourself. The bonds of shame are sure to hold them in the razor wire's grip. But a greater Hero, the One True King can set them free! 

The Lord gives freedom to the prisoners.

The Lord opens the eyes of the blind;

The Lord raises those who are bowed down;

The Lord loves the righteous.

The Lord watches over the strangers;

He relieves the fatherless and widow;

Psalm 146:7-9

God's Grace Takes Hold

This morning I began wrestling with the idea of salvation and eternity. Not so much the benefits --who wouldn't want escape from hell? who wouldn't want to "dwell in the house of the Lord forever?" --but the exchange. My spirit for a The Holy Spirit. My sinful --sin-filled, entirely corrupt, putrid, dead spirit exchanged for eternal life in Christ, a new identity. Still sounds like a no-brainer, right? But here's the twisted part of my old nature, this spirit I was to have given up, abandoned, in exchange for new life: I still cling to it. From time to time, I still feel it's mine to correct, condition, control --whatever it is. 

We are triune beings after the image of our Creator. We have a soul, a personality. We have a physical body with senses like sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing; our physical body is grounded in the natural things of our existence. And, we have a spirit, an eternal existence that functions in a spiritual world, unseen and, for believers, in union with God's Spirit. Now we know it's important to protect our bodies, to care for our bodies. As for the soul, who we are, there is not another you in all the world and our soul is unique unto ourselves. But what is the spirit? It is the means by which God's Spirit communicates to us, the place from which our worship is to flow, the place within our bodies where God dwells, and the life's breath, its animating force. But is it mine? Scripture tells us, we are not our own. Not our personality, not our body, not our spirit. All of it is a gift. Our personality is a gift from our Creator who has given to us and developed within us specific likes and dislikes, opinions and experiences to be used for His glory. The guy "with the knack" for fixing things; the lady who just loves to bake. Souls intentionally imbued by God with gifts to serve others and to enjoy His presence. Our bodies are vehicles, enabling us to carry His Spirit, spread the good news of the Gospel, create beauty, extend warmth and compassion, consummate a marriage, bear and deliver life, be ambassadors of Christ for His glory and the enjoyment of His presence. But what is the spirit? Who determines what goes on in there?

At some point in my life, I gave everything over to the Lord. Take it; it's Yours. My old nature did terrible things with her body. My old nature had some really bad personality traits. And that is not to say I have in some way arrived; but I know I am not the same person. And I'm okay with that. My spirit, however, what's with her? There's a day coming when I will no longer breathe --my physical body will cease to function. We all tend to accept that on some level --if not accept it, at least realize it. Have you had that child who wouldn't eat anything without ketchup? One of ours studied nutrition in college. Talk about a 180! Just as we are aware our bodies change over time, we know our souls will also. What control, however, do I have over the spirit within me? What does it mean to have this nature, this life force within us that we can't quite put our finger on? When we can't even comprehend things like "eternity" or the true meaning of "supernatural," how do we understand the significance of something like "spirit?" 

Here's the conclusion to which I have come: the spirit in me, my spirit if you will, is that part of me that reflects the third person of the trinity, God's Holy Spirit. It's the part of me that is connected to Him; He is the tie that binds. When given over to the One True God, His Spirit works to sync the spirit in me up with Him; to love what He loves, to long for those things that bring Him glory, to crave His presence, to empty itself out in adoration of Him. When that spirit in me was not given over to Him, there was no answer to its cries but the voice of whatever wind was set to blowing; love was shallow and fickle, the longings of this spirit were undirected and unanswered, I craved something (I know now it was His presence, but for that time it was marked by an emptiness I could not define), and adoration --true adoration was impossible, as nothing in this world was worthy of it. And this spirit which remains in this body, expressed by the framework of this soul is no more mine than any other part of me. However, unlike those things which shift and change with physiology and the introduction of new external experiences, this spirit, now relinquished to --not on loan to, not sometimes under the control of --relinquished to my Lord and Savior, is changed by His power and His grace. A dead spirit, made alive through Christ, always improving by the power of His Spirit, providing I remain pliable and within reach of His grace. And that's my job, that's what I control --positioning myself close to Him at all times. That is grace. Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift!