Change

This has been on my mind a lot lately. I am the kind of person who resists change. I eat just about the same breakfast every morning, eat at the same restaurants for lunch each day of the week, and can even run the same route over and over, because I like to know what to expect. I think the sameness gives me a level of comfort. Perhaps because even though other things may vary in my life, I can control some parts of it. I like that, and the level of power it gives to me.

This mentality can be a good thing. It gives discipline and dependability, but can also be a crutch, one that needs to be knocked out from underneath me from time to time. There are many crutches I have used in my life that, in the end, harmed me. Jesus came along and replaced himself for my useless crutches, because they were holding me back from becoming closer to him. He is still showing me where I have stashed spare crutches.

When he does this I really panic. I grab my crutch, hold on for dear life, and kick and scream like a small child. But underneath my childish behavior is a seed that resist change, fearing I will be naked without it. If you take away what I have then what will I have?! Nothing. I easily forget he has already replaced what I am desperately trying to hold onto with something better. It's like trying to keep wearing your glasses when you don't need them anymore. You are worse off than before, because you won't let go.

I grew up in a religion where everything was defined, dissected, and spelled out. My life was actually quite stormy, but the belief I had in God seemed to be a steady stream, one that I could follow along without doubt and have 'God's approval'. All I had to do was listen to what the leaders taught, and follow the path they laid out. I did this faithfully, and I found it comfortable. The problem was however, is that the path I had chosen to follow was not the path Jesus was walking. It was one that man had paved. It was full of pits, holes, wolves, and robbers. When my Lord found me on this road, I was beaten and bleeding. He bound up my wounds and took me to him. My entire life shifted, and even as my scars were healing, I was completely consumed with fear. I wanted him more than anything, but he had removed my crutches. I was terrified. He replaced my terror with hope. He is still teaching me, that I no longer need them. I am not beaten and bleeding. He has completely paid for my recovery.

Walking without definitions is like walking with my eyes closed. Walking by faith, not sight. He directs me through faith in his love, nudging me here and there, giving sight of heavenly things, instead of eyes of flesh. The difference is such a change that it can be overwhelming, and it's hard to let go of fear. He says if I follow his voice I can walk in his footsteps and he will lead me. When I try and put the flesh glasses back on, I am blind, and in a worse state than I was before.

I am still learning to trust him, that I am not in fact naked, but beautifully clothed. I can be a slow learner. It's funny, when the crutch is gone, I end up wondering why I wanted it in the first place.

I don't Know.. Part 2

I have been away from my blog for a long time now. Basically I had decided it wasn't really accomplishing much, and writing wasn't much of a talent of mine. That perhaps, it was best left to those who had been gifted as such.

I was out running today. For some reason I feel more free to talk to my Lord at this time. I will actually talk out loud to him. And when I am listening, he will answer me deep within. I heard him today, maybe because I was in a particularly lousy state, you know, the one where you have just ripped open every emotion you have and said this is what I got, where I am, now please teach me a better way.

His answers are usually very simple, but somehow satisfy what I need. Like bread filling the hole in my stomach, a warm satisfaction of feeling full. Anyway the conclusion of the matter was this. He told me to start writing again. Ever ask a question and not really like the answer? Yeah it's one of those for me. But I have decided to trust him, and I do not wish to tell him no. You see, I love My Lord, more than all else. He knows this about me, and he loves me too, for he gave all for me. What he asks of me, is to tell you the same.

He loves you more than all else. Come to him.

You see, I don't know the answers to the big questions, He has told me I don't need them for my own life, so I cannot give you the answers to yours. Except this:

He loves you, more than all else. Come to him.

Also this. I love you too.

I believe

It is at the core
when all is stripped away
when nothing is left to look at
except the beginning.

Did he place it there?
Made it what it is?
How is it the only thing left
of who I am?

It is naked and pure
exposed and real
small and yet fills
my entire soul.

How can it be
that it is all I want to be
and all I see?

It never left
was not stolen away
replaced, destroyed, or covered

for everytime a wave washes over
it is all that is left of me.

I Don't Know - Part 1

A friend asked me a few days ago, why I never had more children. There was really no short answer. Especially since my friend has only known me for a couple of years. Had he known me longer, perhaps the question would never had been asked.

I remember the day, like most others, I went to get out of bed.

Everything on fire, and the pain so intense tears ripped down my cheeks.

"Oh no." I thought, "not again! I HAVE to work, I HAVE TOO!"
"I can't, I just can't, the pain, it's too much,"

I worked myself into a sitting position, breathing deeply to focus on anything but the throbbing. Now having psyched myself up, I think,

"It's been worse, pull it together and just get over it."

Propelling my body off the bed, I try and keep my equilibrium until I straighten up. It would have worked too, had my right leg not been numb from the knee down.

My prayers were at that time, pretty basic. No very conversational, because it seemed to be of no use. So I prayed for at least one of the many medicines I took to work. I didn't beg for a cure, I had given up on that. What was left of my faith was in a pill. I just wanted the pain to be tolerable. The swelling to go away. The tears to end. I wanted what they would call a 'normal' life. Please God, just let me feel like living.

It was kind of a pattern of thinking for me since I was a small child.

You know, the prayer starts with a desperate sob, urgent and begging "Please, Please, Make it stop. HELP ME!"

But when it doesn't stop, the next prayer is just a little different isn't it? My faith... altered, more unsure.

"please, please, let me not feel it, let it not hurt."

It did.

The next prayer even more negotiating.

"Let it be short.".

It turns it to a bargaining doesn't it?

So this altered faith, goes on and on, patterned over and over into new circumstances, but the same questions. Is he listening? Does he love me? Why doesn't he answer!? What is real faith? If I had more, would he give me the answer? And there it goes again. Trying to bargain with God. At least it felt like something I could do. Otherwise the feeling of helplessness from lack of answers was too overwhelming.

I had someone tell me one time, after I had been trying to almost three years to have a baby, "As soon as you give up, really give up, it will happen." I can't tell you how stupid those words sounded. Funny how now they makes sense, and not just because I gave up, and had a daughter.

It is amazing how much I think I know. The wealth of acquired knowledge swimming around in my head that I think that if other people could possess it would change their lives. What if they could see what I see, just understand! When those words are written down is sounds so very pathetic, and laughable, doesn't it? All the real answers I still am trying to grasp.

It is embarrassing to say, "I don't know."

"I don't know"

I find myself saying this more and more every day. I truly feel I have had more questions answered by my Father in the last three years then the previous 35 and yet I know even less then I began. Maybe because his answers have been so simple, and I wanted them to be complex. Maybe because he is still waiting for me to really give up, so that I can hear him, instead of my own answers, and then the answer will feel complete. Or maybe I will spend my life asking him more questions, as he patiently waits for me to accept the first one. I don't know.

Simple Answers.

Is he listening?

"Yes"

This of course leads to another!

Do you love me?

"Yes, I loved you first."

Oh how this opens to all the other questions, and especially the next one which feels the most desperate:

Why!!???

His answer to that one, I guess that leads to "I don't know" part 2.

Love in Slumber

Let love not cool
and slumber make
with ease of familiarity

for love that sleeps
when called to rise
makes embers vanish from the eyes

Undeclared love is death
in unspoken words
a parched flower that can thirst no more

for when the well is capped
and the fountain dry
it weeps a barren Love's cry

like a mourning dove
bidding her mate
that receives no reply

Let love not cool
and slumber make
breathing a contented sigh

At Night

At night
When the darkness comes
The shadows that run
Don't leave my side

At night
When the darkness reigns
When the candles wane
lay me safely down

In the night
Where dreams rule
with the voice of fools
I grab your sword

I speak your name
oil the flame
and break the chain

I take my stand

Light the fire
speak the truth
burn the lies
clean the floor

The dark king
has no crown.

Let Me

Let me hear your voice
Let me understand
all the words you speak
to this little lamb

Take away my wounds
for I tripped and fell
I can't walk alone
in this darkened land

Let me feel your touch
and I'll grasp your hand
Let me hold your arm
For by you I stand

Oh Lord of Light
To you I give my life
Make me into you
Let me hear your voice

Oh lord of Love
To you I give my heart
Make me into you
Lead me to your land

Oh lord of Life
To you I give my love
Make me into you
Let me understand