Glimpses

Overcome.

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 19:35:00 +0000

The jolt of fear transformed into wisdom. It seems it is possible for our personal reality to be redefined. Evidence that we, indeed, do not already know everything. Why is it a surprise when a new experience changes us?

A few weeks ago I experienced an unfamiliar reaction. As I attempted to control the sudden feeling, that was quickly betraying my desire for emotional privacy, a blurred mountain of questions began to grow in my mind. Almost mentally panicked, I found myself clearing tears and became accutely aware of the uninvited guests fluttering in my gut. I thought, "What is wrong with me?"

I was looking for my son in a crowd of 7-9th grade boys. Clustered in groups in the field, it was kind of exhilarating. I suddenly noticed this clump of thoughts in my mind and as I wandered through them I spotted him. I realized I'd been wondering how he was feeling. Nervous, excited, afraid? Was he even thinking at all, or was he still the kid who'd found a frog in left field? Was he even really present in this moment? He made eye contact and smiled.

The moment entered slow motion and began to feel surreal. It was a bit like a dream as I became lost and then overwhelmed. There were too many things happening at once and then this thing happening inside forced the beginnings of tears into my eyes. I thought, "oh no!". Instinctively and expertly, I widened them hoping to evaporate the moisture before it welled up so much that emotion was exposed.

The clump of thoughts began to break off into identifiable memories and it was as if yesterdays past had instantly become a fresh reality. Transported instantly to my 7th grade consciousness and like a sloppy collage I was experiencing it all at once. And, my son stands with his team mates in a field in a cluster warming up, bouncing, smiling, and I tried to look through him wondering if he was feeling as I had. Quickly, I turned, tilted head to the sky as they welled too much to control with widened eyes. My only hope now was to contain them and hope evaporation prevented the overflow.

UGH, "What is wrong with me?"

Oh! if it weren't for the problem of words. Words, so insufficient! What word describes this perfect storm of human experience? These constant mysteries. This specific, vivid moment I just lived, it's significance locked inside my heart and mind...indefinitely? Never mind for a moment that sense of isolation, unable to rest with another in the expression of common experience. This new phenomena I now Know. What is the Word?

Focus with me on the more immediate problem. Why was I Overcome? Is why the problem? What has Overcome me? Or is it the vulnerability of suddenly sensing that I can indeed be Overcome?

Overcome. Conquered. Exposed. All at once, Vulnerable. Unprotected... unless no one sees.

It's all together disturbing. Unexplained.

And, the panic begins to subside fueled by the seemingly immediate overflow of self but also the desperation of self slowly fades. Peace carefully weaves itself into a beautiful realization of common experience shared in an intimacy too profound for any words.

I just experienced an intimacy he has not yet known. One day, he will scan a crowd or observe a simple moment and suddenly he too will be Overcome.

Overcome, he'll feel Conquered. Exposed. All at once Vulnerable. He will fight it, but then Unprotect.

Then he will Know too. Words can't explain the connection found in experience. The intimacy known when passion, fears and dreams collide.

Suddenly seen. Those moments when self resonates in another and the jolt of fear transforms into wisdom and a new confidence emerges. Lies shatter. You are not alone despite all evidence and in spite of all the insufficient Words.

Think. Look. Find. Experience.

Be Overcome.

Not Destroyed.

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Thu, 31 Mar 2011 21:37:00 +0000

Have you experienced that moment? The one that instantly redefines priority?

When there’s nothing left to give; no remnant of love at your disposal. When the day turns to night and the light in your eye fades. When hope seems to be a distant reality or maybe you’re beginning to believe it’s just a lie. When the reservoir of power from within you fails or is depleted. Or the tsunami hits. Or the knock on the door brings the realization of your worst nightmare. Or the levee breaks. Or they leave. Or you meet the moment you’ve dreaded and the truth is out. Or you’ve just heard the truth and by all conventional wisdom you have every right to quit… to leave. When every fear seems instantly confirmed, you truly are alone. It is actually real you feel, no one breathing loves you… or they just can’t, the need, the pain, the loss, the confusion, the questions, the sorrow… it’s just too overwhelming. This thing is too much.

What is that moment?

When it happens does life slow down? Does it speed up? Do questions flood your entire being or does anguish? Can you even feel? Do you fall empty and numb or does the intensity of reality create a tension whose origin is your deepest spot then like a lightning strike shocking every muscle in your body into the sharpest physical pain a human could ever know?

Is the moment slow…

Is time still…

Is this moment in real time but now constant, a never ending torture…

Is time speeding by in a confusing blur?

What is this moment? Can LIFE resume? Or did I ever even really live?

There’s this place that is our default residence with false confidence and fake peace. Our own little reality crafted and confined by the maximum amount of knowledge we possess, which at any given moment defines possibility and truth. We are the masters of this reality that cannot be infringed upon as we stand guard over the deepest recesses of self, guarded by this protective illusion. Like a child hiding under the impenetrable power of a cotton sheet when the fear of an imagined intruders knife is our new master. Our reality askew, we trust and hope in the lies that are now our true god, and now in our own messiness and delusion a sick comfort in filth is found… as long as we are the god of it. Tragically, humans can presume to wield God as though He’s their own possession within a desire to be more than we are on our own. Deception and illusion of control our actual motivation for everything we pursue. No peace, just chains. No sight, just darkness, confusion and blindness. No hope, just despair and disbelief. No trust, only anxiety and desperation. No rescue just condemnation.

And then there’s a moment. A pause in time… or a quickening, surreal and ending, yet somehow an intensity of life never known before, the senses heightened creating a different place that looks unreal, new colors, new smells new sensations, new understanding. What is that moment? When it seems the world is over, our lives have shattered and there’s nothing more, then within the fragments of our own kingdom a glimpse of a reflection of magnificence never known before. It catches the gaze of the hardest of hearts. It entrances the soul and a beckoning ensues. One more breath is taken and it’s true! The air has new power and the body compelled to inhale it again. It’s borrowed life, an accepted apprehensive rescuing, at least for that moment. Breathe… Breathe again, and now it’s an experience of a new reality unbounded by human comprehension, a power unbridled and counter to everything ever known to be real a revolutionary new experience.

Is it possible there really is more than our maximum amount of knowledge? In the times our maximum is proven inadequate, it has been seen. Those moments reveal truths almost impossible to explain. From the depths of pain comes the purity of Love, superhuman. Within the pains of anguish, inadequacy and helplessness comes the answer of hope. The voice, like a whisper on a gentle breeze, is only felt or heard in the stillness of that moment or in the sharp pain that jolts our guts into attention.

What about that question that looms… Maybe there is more? Maybe the miracles we’re looking for come in our frailty. Maybe for those who give Him permission when life locks us into His gaze, somehow willing to allow our lungs to be stretched when we are too tired and without strength; overwhelmed with burden and finally broken, finally willing to accept His resuscitation.

It’s the only way we finally, really know He… is not... the enemy.

"But God is the God of the waves and the billows, and they are still His when they come over us; and again and again we have proved that the overwhelming thing does not overwhelm. Once more by His interposition deliverance came. We were cast down, but not destroyed." — Amy Carmichael

Not Destroyed.

And then, an awakening, new eyes, new breath, new freedom, ridiculous love unbounded by self. New permissions and a willing embrace of new ways that stretch infinitely beyond our maximum and suddenly fuel dreams we didn’t know we had. No more do lies withstand it. His voice is now known and it speaks of truths not commonly understood. It beckons us to actions in scenarios of hopelessness and strife, now filled with confidence having experienced the miraculous and having seen His face. It explains things not known and stills the souls of those able to listen, while sustaining the trust in a God who is truly good, whose love truly has the power to erase any chasm between you and Him… between them and Him… between you and me… so we can be one, again.

What is that moment?

How big would God need to be to exist within our maximum amount of knowledge?

That’s not big enough to reach through my pain and it’s not big enough to answer my need and it’s not big enough to reach into the places of desperation I see behind your eyes. It’s not big enough to fulfill these dreams or restore life or bring new hope. It’s not big enough to love someone undeserving or surrender my rights. It’s not big enough to forgive. It’s not big enough to be more than who I can already be.

But, in this moment, it’s plain to see that whatever I can be is not nearly enough.

So, how big would God need to be to handle your anger or your doubt? How big does He need to be to absorb your worst punishment, your most intense question? How big to handle all that you have to muster all you can dish out? How big?

Are you tired? Have you been depleted? Or do you love someone who is done? Is it your best friend, your spouse, your parent? How big does He need to be? Can I bring myself to let go of my own kingdom long enough to Believe He is who He says He is?

What is that moment that you realize your maximum is not enough?

Is it now? Will you listen for the whisper on the faintest of breezes? Will you breathe Him in… and again… and again?

Not Destroyed. Let Love Live.

From My Face?

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 16:35:00 +0000

Have words ever left your face and you wonder where they came from? To be honest, there are times groupings of words form and leave my mouth and... well, I just don't know.

I realize that some may volunteer that they've noticed what I am referring to. Unfortunately, there are many times embarrassing, crude, selfish, ridiculous, rude, ignorant or any number of other things have left my face that should have never entered audible space. I agree with those people whole heartedly, regrettably I have uttered things that should have never crossed my mind, let alone be heard. Which, makes the following thoughts more beautiful, I hope you'll agree.

A few may testify to the fact that on some occasion words may have left my face that surprised them. Consider the previous paragraph my acknowledgment that the surprise could be either good or bad. I know, often times, I've been surprised as I realize something I hear and then experience this moment of pause as I notice it's kind of like... my voice, but kinda not? Or, there are the times when my thoughts go back and forth and somehow I'm a third participant in the conversation listening intently, anxious to find out how it'll play out. There is also this experience of listening to someone else speak and having extra thoughts weave in and out of their sentences increasing the meaning of what they're saying, personalizing it, causing these little profound islands of understanding to form. And with them, one might even see the words in my face as they tumble around in my mind teaching, shaping, sharpening.

As my awareness of these things has increased over the years a progression has happened. Initially, not realizing some things about life, I chalked it up to being naturally insightful. I was pretty proud of that. When it came to listening to people talk and the whole island of understanding thing... I thought, "wow, this person forgot to say some really amazing things!" Then I thought, "I really need to add all my amazing insights to their ideas, for the sake of everyone's understanding!" Oh how I smile now at my silly simplicity. As for the thought conversations I sat in on, I honestly wondered how all that got in there.

I began to notice and observe as all this played out, it caused me to wonder. Here you find me at this pause in the progression. I am happy to acknowledge that, although, I have gained expertise in some matters, have experienced a lot more and studied a few things, what I do know is desperately minimal. Some things will not change. I could study non-stop, experience all there is and never understand where some of the words that have left my face have come from. I'm being transparent with you right now. Anything that is good, anything of value, all that I've uttered that has been of some benefit may have left my face, but it is not and never has been mine. The more I learn and experience, the more I do and KNOW, the more confidence I have when I say it. Insight, profound thoughts and the greatest ideas... NOT MINE.

In small ways all along, this truth has peaked into my understanding about myself and the world around me. And, in ever increasing ways it's become all I can see. My perception has transformed. My motivations have changed. My desires have become more clearly focused on things that don't really make sense. In effect, it's removing doubt, confusion, fear, need, dissatisfaction, discontentment, the desire to receive and then there's that one thing.

Instead of observing this communication happening or taking credit for it. I've come to understand that I'm an active participant. It's part of a revealing. It's the catalyst of the transformation that I've come to cherish. In an embrace with it, I am learning to throw aside want for control, hope for success, desire for affirmation... Increasingly, all that matters is one thing.

So, these words that leave my face, spoken or unspoken. They are the tiny evidences, the sweet beginnings of an imagined masterpiece that holds the promise of completion. Within the mystery of life I describe this bigger thing that can't be described. I catch glimpses of truth in the eyes of another, as unwittingly, in all purity and beauty sometimes fragmented by the owners attempt to control their escape, the words leave their face. And, I recognize those words. Words that mysteriously originate from the sound of one voice. Whose Words, I now understand, mend my soul, nurture my mind and sustain my life and it's the only thing that matters!

Hearing his voice, knowing, being transformed by the purity of love and then he's not mine alone. He's gone through me and now another knows his glory, the only thing that matters.

Break the Grip of the Rip

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 02:15:00 +0000

A beautiful sunny summer Southern California day, probably 1982, the beach was busy. San Diego school kids were regularly briefed on beach safety; have a buddy, this flag means this, that flag means that, here’s what you do in various situations. You should pick a landmark on shore near your spot on the beach and look back every once in a while as you play in the surf, it’s common to drift down the coast and get a little lost.

This day moved along as any other. See the wave coming, squat in anticipation and at just the right moment… JUMP! What a floating sensation, the bigger the wave, the better. Wave after wave extends the joy and then the occasional wipe out. Ugh, salt in the throat and somehow it triggers an instant awareness of the sand in your suit! Simultaneously, one notices their own flailing arms, their feet reaching randomly seeking the firm sandy bottom. Whoa and finally, standing up gingerly opening the eyes. For some reason the sunshine worsens the sensation on salt watery eyeballs. You rub away the discomfort to finally regain sight only to see the next wave about to crash right into your face; and then again, the flailing, searching, discomfort, blindness, adrenaline, rubbing, squinting and finally seeing… whoa, JUMP NOW! Aw, the floating sensation again, and so on.

Hmm, where’s my landmark? Wait, why haven’t I landed on the sandy bottom? What’s going on? Where is everyone? Wait… is this, a rip current? SWIM, swim perpendicular to the flow… don’t stop. Eventually, they said if you swim perpendicular to the current you’ll get out. SWIM. Okay, did I make it? What’s that sound?

Daaaa… Duh, Daaaa… Duh, Daa, Daa, Daa, Daa… DaDaDaDaDaDaDaDa…
(Um, it’s the jaw’s theme music… it was 1982!)

What!? No, way… I’m just imagining… “Hey! Hey, over here! HEY! You guys, look over here!” What are they doing out here? And, why are they making out over there, it’s deep… do they hear the jaws music too? “HELP!” SWIM! Just keep swimming, perpendicular to the current… you’ll swim out of it. Ugh, what did they say was at the end of this current? SWIM! SWIM! “Hey! HELP!” Where’s my landmark? Where’s Jaws? Where are those stupid floating people sucking face!

“HEY! KID!”

Huh?

“KID! Are you alright?”

“NO!”

“Do you need help?”

“YES, YES!”

He reached out his hand to me. Next thing I know I was yanked into an orange motorboat and we were skipping back to shore. “Didn’t you see the warning flag?”

“Um, no… I guess I drifted down to far… I didn’t see the flag.”

I spent the rest of the day at the beach punished on the shore. It was okay though, I was EXHAUSTED. My little grade school spirit was broken. I thought those boats were soft, but they are not. I had a bloody scrape on my knee to prove it. I sat, watched and thought.

In addition to forgetting to check for my landmark, I made a mistake that day. It’s the real reason I was “beached”. I had neglected to get a buddy. I was shy. I was afraid to make myself vulnerable to the rejection of a potential beach buddy. So, I ventured off alone. What a familiar problem. Sometimes, even with a buddy, we walk in isolation.

That is the first time I remember being rescued. The first time I remember really wanting help. The first time I sat recovering, realizing that the ocean was a lot bigger than me… surrendered, humbled. I don’t know what would have happened if those lifeguards hadn’t saved me.

I’d spend other days jumping in the surf, rip current free experiences where many to be had before the big move to Texas. That day though, that day is one I’ll NEVER forget. It changed me somehow, I grew up a little. I’ve felt that way at other times in life as well. There have been times when life’s circumstances or relationships had me flailing around and blinded; seeing and hearing things that weren’t really there. Swimming frantically, but intentionally perpendicular to the problem, just as common wisdom would recommend. Sometimes, I swim out alright on my own. But, other times… well, I need rescuing.

I don’t realize I need it until the cramps set in… until my spirit is broken… until I’m hurt bad enough, lost enough, feeling alone enough until I just want to give up. Often times, at that point, I don’t know if I care or not anymore. It gets all built up. A constipation of self reliance stunts our system. The more backed up our heart and mind gets the deader we feel. It’s a lonely place to be… out in the depths where no one really HEARS your shouts, where no one SEES you struggling. I’ve been rescued in those times too, by one who SEES, one who HEARS, one who really KNOWS.

There’s another way… an intended way. Perpetual surrender that fuels rescue. Constant and immediate never built up to bursting and distant. Something like pushing the bike pedal with one foot while the other prepares to take over… now flying! We must continually let go, learning it’s not truly offensive to rely on our Knower. Perfect knower, the one we’ve always longed for who knows how to touch, adjust, stretch, fine tune, fuel and fulfillment of our potential is inevitable as we are, in fact, a precise part of The plan.

Perpetual surrender fueling a constant perfect posture never vulnerable or weak, rescued… infused now ready. Ready and prepared. Ready and somehow invincible fueled by the strength of surrender.

Reality is, the outstretched hand is never far away. Sometimes, in the midst of distress all we have to do is unclench our eyelids and see. Stop yelling and hear… Realize that surrendering to the strength of God, in the end, is never weak. There is never need to succumb to the fear. It’s actually the beginning of real strength and provides a true sense of direction, a true wisdom. It begins to unveil the reality of the new way. Slowly, your eyes and ears perceive a new Kingdom a restored surrounding with people being made whole again, even you.

Alone Together?

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 20:58:00 +0000

Days and days have gone by before, the same routine, the same things commonly known. Yet, all the while one thing seems to remain. Hoards of people moving, breathing, eating, producing, we are together, but somehow all alone. Humanity is so LOUD, but somehow perfectly silent.

How is it? How do individuals manage to maneuver through day to day, moment to moment simultaneously moving shoulder to shoulder with others, yet wonder, ache, astonish, contemplate, need, fear, and often succumb to hopelessness on one level or another in silence.

You may begin to dismiss it, but this is reality. There is a paralysis setting in, an atrophy of the inner being. This issue doesn’t only belong to the emotionally scarred. This trap exists and ensnares those from every walk of life, successful and not, wealthy and not, brilliant and not, popular and not, outgoing and not, funny and not, athletic and not, talented and not. To be honest, or dare I say real, it is almost impossible to walk out days on earth being truly connected… it is basically normal to venture along life’s road guarded, projecting some illusion of strength and wisdom, translate… lost trust, fear and pride. This entire thing shows itself in preemptive acting out of human prowess. Then we begin to believe our own lies, and trust ourselves supremely. Then we trust whatever we tell ourselves to trust until it fails.

Who has not either experienced or observed a child whose feelings have been hurt angrily exclaiming, “I don’t care!” Hmm, it’s plain to see that they do, isn’t it? Unfortunately, it seems this display doesn’t stop with children. I acknowledge my own moments of what I’ll call, ‘I don’t careness’ and admit it didn’t stop in childhood. It feels better to try to salvage any amount of strength or pride left to still wield the slightest remnant of control. At least as a child I didn’t really have a clue what was going on within. As adults, it’d be nice if we had grown into true wisdom and strength and walked unharmed by all the, ‘ugh’. Looking around, it’s plain to see we are not.

Much the same as a child being swallowed up in a parents embrace, it seems our truest connecting has been relegated to physical contact. This is so much the case that when a person refers to the concept of intimacy, one most likely assumes some sort of physical interaction. Cheap. It’s a momentary substitute, comforting, warming, exciting, empowering; but momentary. However, knowing and being known, it’s a new and powerful investigation. It brings our fears and anxieties to light and heals them with truth. A voice from another can annihilate growing lies within. With laser precision true care-filled words, whether challenging or uplifting, obliterate the effects of an atrophied inner being. Yet, we are captive to our instinctual avoidance of vulnerability. Allowing another real access, it’s painful in a way that’s difficult to put into words and is usually reserved for 1 or 2 other individuals.

It’s really humanly impossible. It requires an unbridled power and strength. It is only supported by real love, sacrificial, beautiful life giving love. The kind that runs into burning buildings, gives away its last dime, wears a uniform that attracts bullets, stays instead of leaves, lifts up instead of crushing down, a love that says no to oneself so that another can truly live. It has little to do with physical intimacy. It requires another kind. This kind of love originates from vulnerability its intimacy is the true power of life. It’s full of butterflies, nausea and scars. Uncertainty battles with trust for its affection. Real Love must exist providing the opening to vulnerability… it creates a safe place that has to be earned.

It’s simpler to do it our way, isn’t it? Avoiding all the scary stuff… right? Just mind your own business and do what you do… But…

What if, your way… my way… the human way, is what leads to the mind numbing drudgery? A perpetual pumping up of oneself at the expense of anyone nearby, so much so, it makes us mutes, cannibals even, thereby perpetuating a self reliant attitude that feeds its own cycle. No longer looking out for their needs, no longer a longing within to know our own loved ones and now it’s a blurred existence scarcely cognoscente of an up or a down, whose left or what’s right.

What if, we are meant to love? If ‘I love you’ was known by action not words and we all KNEW its action is our primary purpose.

What if, the person sitting next to you is your brother or sister? If ‘need’ no longer existed, because safe places are real and love was known to be a force of power and not just cute warm fuzzy words… kittens… shiny little hearts…

Is it possible to uncage our thinking? Is it possible we will begin to see?

WHAT IF THERE REALLY IS MORE? MAYBE THERE IS A DIFFERENT KIND OF KINGDOM!

If we are walking around alone together we are not at all together!

If we walk alone together we are not loving or loved, knowing or known.

If I cannot take a moment to contemplate the need of another, if in meeting another’s need I actually feed myself… What is that?

How is it that we manage to maneuver through day to day, moment to moment simultaneously moving shoulder to shoulder with others, yet wonder, ache, astonish, contemplate, need, fear, and often succumb to hopelessness on one level or another in silence?

Let’s fix it. Start with someone you have affection for. Ask for opened eyes so that you can really know them, make yourself known. Begin to differentiate between loving and wanting to feel loved. Branch out from there. Don’t stop when you get to your church building, if you go to one. In fact, make that your next stop. Know the people you worship with, let them know you. Then Love them. Let them Love you.

Then, Do Love Together.

Pause. Observe. Think. Discuss.

Are Dreams Our Prey?

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 00:53:00 +0000

Is life really about gathering, consuming, and striving to be the best or the most, the smartest or quickest?

Do you ever get tired of it?

“Stupid is as stupid does”, is Forest Gumps famous philosophy. We are so smart! Shouldn’t there be evidence of our genius in what we do? Do we really believe what we say we do? Do we really trust what we think is good? Do we really rely on something we say is powerful?

If we do… shouldn’t it be evident in our life?

I have observed otherwise. Think about it. Maybe a new saying should be, “Believing is as believing does.” Isn’t that what we really hope we’ll see? What if that something that seems too good to be true… this time was observable and real?

I’ve started to see dreams becoming real…

At one time I was desperate to be loved… known… adored. It was a driving longing from deep within. It shaded all the moments of my life. Over time desperation to be respected presented itself as a Siamese twin to love. These desires drove my life. I have been controlled by them. And, at times, slip into their grips.

Completely unaware of the futility of my pursuit, truly unaware of these resulting shadows cast over me, signs of starvation began to become noticeable. The unattractive portions of my character, themselves became my new chains… chains locked by my own grasp, my perceived identity. Tragically, I became convinced these fake chains where really me. There was no longer any hope of being who I’d intuitively learned I was to be. No longer would this impression stamped in me at my origin be believable… no more than a distant dream. The identity meant for me… lost, disguised, defiled… a silly notion unsupported by reality, culture and who I’d become; this ravenous, blind, soon enraged… predator.

All hope was lost. Life proven was life lived from what could be perceived… lonely, among many; touchable, but untouchable and then pointless.

In the final moment…
In the midst of the last gasp for oxygen…
the last pange of hunger.

The question…

What if the identity once imagined was really the supposed reality?

YES.

One simple word whispered quietly through an abyss of illusion in the mind. One YES, the loudest most pointed unmistakable whisper ever spoken. One word carried all the power and reality of hope. Finally, in one word…

A beginning, unshakeable, impossible to disguise with doubt.

Have you heard it?

Can you remember the hints you used to hear, the dreams that used to form? Can you remember the sensation tingling your spine as it rushed from your guts, up your back and out your fingertips, whoosh, like a shot! When all the light of life was unmistakable to you; when the voice of your origin, the voice, was the loudest voice.

It’s still there you know.

The whispers you once heard…
those dreams.

I’d been given a glimpse that I might recognize again once I’d lived our way. To be heard again once living our way had ravaged me. I, with no alternative, nothing to lose, began to believe that voice once again. Misguided desperation was the spark. I would Trust that distinct whisper one hint at a time. I’ve followed it through all the learned distracting nuance of deceptive sounds, that strain the ear of my soul. Aching for it’s truth, it’s sustenance. It’s born a new desperation. It proves itself and becomes louder and more distinct accompanying an added spattering of visual clues.

Flashes of light, and maybe color
everywhere,
but, first in the eyes of one other awakening from the stupor and drunkenness of life lived our way.

Lights bursting from the eyes of an empty vessel, a vessel hollowed, burned out, and ready for new life. And now an overwhelming craving! It’s a new time, a time filled with a new desperation to see more light; to see these unfamiliar burstings of awakening, the signals of life. They are glimpses of an intended, designed identity. Each an evidence of a familiar whisper recognized, vaguely remembered if at all; a new beginning, joining me in becoming that dream. Dreaming together, listening together, trusting together. Believing the whispers together.

I am desperate to see the lights come on! The heads jerk and eyes search as they think they may have heard it again. It’s an addiction.

Have you heard the whisper?

Following is NOT For the Wimpy!

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Tue, 14 Dec 2010 21:18:00 +0000

As we desire to be authentic in following God, just feeling the tension is not enough...

observing others trouble is not enough...

hearing about heart ache and feeling sad for people is not enough...

watching news reports unfold before our eyes and absorbing it no further than we would a CGI manufacturing

IS.

NOT.

ENOUGH!

We must bleed WITH people, EXPERIENCE their pain, fully INHALE life with them...

Then you will see tension relieved, peace engulf trouble, love transform pain and supernatural community form.

We can't just feel the tension or see it... We have to have the courage and faith to STEP IN TO IT... Alongside... With... Together.

Not only holding another hand for their benefit, but sometimes receiving the benefit of their strength as well.

Please read this excerpt from the book "Red Moon Rising" by Pete Greig & Dave Roberts.

A guy named Paul with long matted hair and massive flares stood up rather hesitantly to speak at on particular 24-7 gathering. He began with a confession, but we were soon to discover he was carrying a powerful message from the Lord.

"My sister has anorexia," he confided, brushing the hair from his face. "She's 26 years old and weighs just seventy pounds. The anorexia is so bad that she's now developed arthritis so she can't even dress herself or straighten her hands. She also seems to have diabetes and is going through menopause twenty years too early. She isn't a Christian; she just seems to have been robbed of everything: her womanhood, her future, her dignity, her life."

The crowd had grown totally silent, hanging on every tortured word: "I'm here to confess something to you..." Looking up at his audience, Paul paused: "I don't even pray for her. I've been asking myself, 'Why not? Don't I care? Yes, I care! Do I believe in prayer? Yes, of course!" The reason I don't pray for my sister is because it's just too painful. To pray for her is to think about her situation. It means identifying with her and feeling her pain. So I find it easier just to forget the whole thing and pretend it's not happening.

"But God's been challenging me to feel my sister's pain, because that's actually what it means to truly intercede. I also believe God is challenging us as a movement of young people to dare to feel the pain all around us. To move from praying 'for' people from the comfort of our own salvation to interceding 'with' them from a position of need." He grew in confidence as he sensed the Holy Spirit putting words in his mouth: "Here's the question: 'Will we allow the things that break God's heart to break our hearts too?' It'll mean more tears, more listening. It may even be the reason why so many of us struggle with our own personal burdens and heartaches -- God is allowing us to feel the pain, to be weak and broken so that our prayers have power.

"Intercession means weeping for the earthquake victims in the news right now, and for the anorexics, the drug abusers, the sexually abused, the friends who don't know Jesus. And God says that if we will stand in the gap in this way, bridging the ravine between a hurting generation and a healing God -- we will see breakthrough, a new level of effectiveness in prayer. In short, there will be very great power in our pain, or, in the words of The Vision, we will weep 'sulphuric tears.'"

Paul scanned the crowd for a moment and noticed the way some were avoiding his gaze: "This is a tough word isn't it? We're so often told to trust Jesus for a problem-free existence. But what if the call to pray is a call to bleed as well as to receive blessing? Maybe we'll run out of words in the prayer room and just join the Spirit in praying with 'groans that words cannot express.' Maybe our passion will consume us until we actually live out our prayers in practical action? Will you carry this cross? Can you receive it?"

---------------------------------

This story resonates with me. Do you connect with Paul? Do you ever feel that something is missing when you gather with other believers? Is it possible that as a group we tend to welcome a mutual blindness to one another? Why? I think Paul hit the nail on the head. There are most assuredly times that a problem is too much! Isn't that the point? In our weakness & insufficiency He is enough... He is made known by making up for our lacking.

And then, there's the other angle...

Just being in a close proximity with people when we feel alone, discouraged & pained... is not enough. Do you know what I mean?

Do or have you been around those who are your closest spiritual family, feeling need or pain or loneliness, yet hiding it, denying it, guarding it or ignoring it? This is not to say that at times, just being near those who love you is not comforting, because it is and sometimes that is all that is needed in that moment. Often times answers to your questions even happen without you ever voicing them. But is that as it should be? Maybe, sometimes.

This is to say that in that moment when you need to open up...

When you feel that nudge mixed with FEAR...

When you need authentic spiritual community...

Will you follow then? When being led into this kind of vulnerable intimacy... will you surrender? Will you let yourself be loved? Will you let that moment of vulnerability or insufficiency be that moment God teaches, answers, guides someone else?

Following is not for wimps! It takes a lot of guts to be honest about our failure to love others... It also takes a lot of guts to allow others to love us. We must trust God to lead us into community with His people, which may be the scariest thing yet.

What is the correlation between loving and being loved... trusting and being trusted?

You will follow something... someone... whether you realize it or not. Let's examine our tendencies... lets be gutsy when it's called for and vulnerable when it's right. Both take more guts than you have on your own.

C.S. Lewis Quote

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 21:09:00 +0000

KABUL 24

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 21:18:00 +0000

by Henry O. Arnold & Ben Pearson

This book is a play by play through an experience that is hard for this American to imagine. Aid workers serving the people of Afghanistan were kidnapped by the Taliban before the attack of 9/11. This account pulls you into an experience of captivity, fear, confusion, tension, uncertainty and abuse of power that we rarely hear about in such detail. It's an action packed retelling that covers the spectrum of emotion and intensity, humor to sheer terror and days of captivity to wild road races in military vehicles.

I was drawn into this story on a couple levels. One, I had no idea this happened! I was struck by the renewed realization that things like this happen all over the world on a regular basis. I was captured by the first story of an execution in a full soccer stadium! The way fear and oppression were used to control people impacted my heart and soul. The love of those captured for the people of Afghanistan and their faith displayed when they turned down opportunities at freedom for fear of any of their captures being killed in the process.

Secondly, the philosophy of their ministry was impacting. They served people who had desperate need, built them schools, homes, provided medical assistance, taught, fed, loved them without requiring their conversion in return. In fact, their Afghan employees were all still Muslim. This organization gives the love of God away freely. They see people in need and they serve them. This type of giving of the love of God is beautiful and inspiring. I recommend this book. I believe it will challenge anyone who reads it to rethink how they live and who they live for. It will challenge them to a deeper faith as they witness a genuine trust, through action, in God.

This book is different, revealing, and it will help gain some type of perspective on a culture and world that is so far away... so difficult to fathom.

Find Your Strongest Life

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 16:09:00 +0000

by Marcus Buckingham
This book provides a fresh perspective on how we view and then live out our life. It attempts to provide a realistic answer to some of the hardest questions women ask in their lives. It's applicable to people in various stages of life as the real point is not so much about a specific set of issues, as it is about the core of who we are and what we are most fulfilled doing. This focused way of thinking teaches a person to move toward what they are uniquely gifted to do while requiring it energizes our whole life.

This book is filled with truth that is observable in day to day life. In fact, some real life stories help us on the road to discovery as their lives provide examples of the concept of choice and where the motivation for our choices comes from. We see first hand how sacrificing our design to fulfill expectations is actually a road to disaster for all involved. I particularly enjoyed the free personality assessment that was short and revealing. I believe that this book will help people understand themselves more clearly and help them make choices that will enhance their own lives as well as those they love and live with. It's time to get out of our boxes and embrace the power of who we are meant to be!

Word of Promise Next Generation NT MP3

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 18:29:00 +0000

This Bible is a set of MP3's packaged in one case on multiple cd's. It is read by an all-star cast of actors. Max and Jenna Lucado give book introductions that are probably my favorite part of the project. I believe the version is International Children's Bible.
I'd say the idea of this product is good, however I found the reading by some of the characters, especially Jesus' character, over dramatic and breathy. It was not as much true acting as reading and it seemed that Jesus was pleading with people through the entire text. I am confident that my kids would listen to this product and as is true with the Word of God, they'd be blessed. I do feel that the power of inflection in spoken language may sway their understanding of the content and give them an unintended interpretation that is probably not accurate. The production quality was good.

Tearful Joy

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 21:10:00 +0000

Recently, my 9 year old son, Keegan attended his first full week of camp at Camp War Eagle. When we were reunited, he was the sweetest big brother imaginable as he held his sister's hand and escorted her into his cabin, he proudly introduced her to all his new buds. His nickname was "chocolate" by the way, because of his hair of course! I enjoyed seeing him interact with all the other nicknamed kids, like "dragon" for instance.

Do you ever watch people? Especially, those who you have any kind of authority over or responsibility toward? I hope so! It inspires appropriate and powerful prayer. It is encouraging and simultaneously revealing. As I watched Keegan, I felt joy. I had the opportunity to see him shine socially, an area of natural genius for him. He showed his sister the kind of love he rarely demonstrates. Sometimes I forget the blessing God has entrusted to me. I didn't expect what I was about to experience.

Keegan joined his cabin mates in an obviously familiar routine as songs were sung and chants were shouted at the camp closing program. It was exciting. The community, bonding, healthy competition and training in learning how to lose and how to win. It was time for awards. The first was a highly respected award something about an arrow. Only one camper per cabin could win. Kids were cooly anticipating the announcement of their name. It is a coveted award! It affirms their mastery of the wholeness of character taught at War Eagle. Keegan's name was not announced, of course politely disappointed and still proud we wondered when the program would end. However, there was another award. Again, an award that only one camper per cabin could win.

This one was called the "FIT" award... First Is Third. The idea is that Jesus demonstrated a love and life that put others and God first. This means that if we can exhibit this attitude in our lives we will be third. First is actually third. My eyes widened as I realized this award was truly the best award I could hope my son would receive. As names were called by cabin number, again politely un-assuming, we waited. Then finally, his cabin number was called and as the last syllable of our last name echoed through the covered meeting space, I realized it was Keegan! I can't really put into words the joy that coursed through my body. Compounded by hearing Aaron exclaim, "That's the best award he could have been given!". Oh, the joy.

You see, as his parents, we hear about his great attitude. We often see another at home. To think that our son had displayed the most Christ like attitude in his cabin... We felt as though we'd been the ones given the award. I could hardly contain my tears, as they embarrassingly flowed down my cheeks. My stomach was tight as I desperately attempted to contain my tears. I don't know if I've ever been as blessed by joy because of Keegan as in those moments that Saturday afternoon. He showed a selfless love to his sister, proved to be a young man who was recognizably christ like all week at camp and he's a bonafied great kid.

When I was a terrified young mom, with this little life in my arms, so afraid of messing him up, I was reassured. You see, Keegan is not mine. I absolutely have a responsibility toward him, but he belongs to God. Keegan's moments of glory, while they honor Aaron and I, truly belong to God... his creator and sustainer. He was created with a purpose that elevates God and His Kingdom, and it's our deep joy to get to watch that truth realized in his life. These moments when the beauty of who Keegan is gets displayed brings more than human affirmation. The true affirmation comes in the peace and joy of knowing my son is God's, no matter what this life brings and I can rest in that. Regardless of his failings and success', he belongs to our Father and the more Keegan embraces that life the more evident the reflection of God's glory will be in him.

As followers of Christ, we must realize that the people around us are His and in fact, so are we. There will be moments of disappointment, when we can succumb to emotions, feelings and attitudes that demonstrate our attempt to impress by our own greatness. Then there are these moments of pride and accomplishment, where we have a tendency to claim God's glory for ourselves and feel a boosted identity in the grabbing of human acclaim. We must not fall into the trap of stealing God's glory; craving it, desiring it, living for it. Oh, that we might find our complete wholeness and utter fulfillment in the approval of God alone. He is enough. He is the longing of every human heart and we become so attractive to humanity as we become miraculous in His love. Trust fully in Him. Be His. Rest in His approval. He is enough.

Journey

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Sun, 24 May 2009 15:04:00 +0000

A JOURNEY They are always beginning and ending. This time marks the end of a journey on campus. For most students the end of one semester. For some it’s the end of a degree program. For me it’s the end of my first Fall and Spring semester of campus ministry. This thought occurs to me as I think about journeys. When one ends another begins. There is summer for instance. It’s a unique time filled with activity of a different sort and when it ends a new semester will begin... with new faces and life adventure.

For those who have secured their lives in Christ, there is an unending Journey. This life that’s become eternal will never end. Interestingly, it also transforms everything. These smaller journeys described above are now more significant. They are now a part of something that lasts forever. As we navigate our days and adventures a vital understanding is needed. As partakers in an eternal journey we must focus our trust in God. Earthly wisdom and knowledge will taunt us moment by moment as we strive to put away our own agendas, plans and the course for our life we see with human eyes.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight. ”

Proverbs 3:5-6 NIV

Let’s place our hope in Him today! Lean on Him. Seek His way out.

Love One Another

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 21:44:00 +0000

LOVE one another... Followers of Jesus are idealy bonded in a way that makes it possible to see eachother through the commonality of lives given away in pursuit of intimacy and purpose with The Father. It is in this pursuit that we find a freedom that comes to those who embrace His Love, His Wisdom, surrendering personal agenda. It is in this state that human eyes percieve THE love that comes from God in pure form. It’s the love that shatters impossible human seperation, differences, feuds and vendettas. A supernatural love where mortal enemies can become one and it is by this Love that THEY WILL KNOW whose we are. I am grateful for the opportunity to be miraculous in this way. What a beautiful hope, what an amazing thing to imagine, the walls of hate, selfishness, pride, fear and insecurity tumbling to the ground! Holy Spirit, please fill us with His love!

"A new command I give you: Love one another . As I have loved you, so you must love one another . By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.
-- John 13:34-35

SEE RELATED POST

By This They Will Know

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Fri, 20 Mar 2009 21:25:00 +0000

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. --John 13:34-35 NIV

By this they will know! Love one another. God took a bunch of individuals who had a desire to connect with and serve him to Mexico for our Spring Break trip this March and brought back a community of believers who'd experienced the power of Christian family. It was beautiful to watch the genius of common purpose unify an otherwise diverse group of people. Suddenly, in a foreign place, our similarities quickly became our bond and that unity flowed through our lives together. The week we served at Vida Nueva in Piedras Negras will surely prove to be the catalyst of a fresh life and pure love that will greatly impact the greater community at the University of Arkansas.

SEE RELATED POST

Daddy's Little Girl

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 19:21:00 +0000

by Tim McGraw, Tom Douglas, Julia Denos (Illustrator) , Faith Hill (Foreword by)
I recently had the opportunity to read "My Little Girl" by Tim Mcgraw and Tom Douglas. The story is about a day a dad spends with his little girl. It's a sweet portrayal of the admiration they share for one another. The illustration was my favorite part of this book. It brought the story to life and engaged my daughter. It I thought it would be appropriate to have my husband read this book to our four year old little girl and observe the result. She was obsorbed by it and commented on things as the story progressed. It was enjoyable for me to watch them interact as they seemed to participate in the journey with the characters. After the story was over, they headed into the kitchen and made brownies together. It is at the core of a little girls heart to be loved and adored by her father. This book brings to light the beauty of that relationship and will hopefully remind fathers all over to take time out to invest in the heart of their little girls. As is true in most relationships, the most important thing is spending time together not what the time is spent doing. I appreciate that truth being a highlight of this book and instilling that value somewhere in the heart of my daughter. On the critical side, the beginning lost me for a second. I think the dog was pondering what the day would be about? I'm not sure. It only lasted for a page though and didn't negatively effect the story.

Impossible Dreams?

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 16:03:00 +0000

I've been reading "The Wisdom of Tenderness”, Brennan Manning. Here’s an excerpt from the dream chapter…

"This is what the world expects from our rhetoric. This is what the world
longs to see: men and women who honor the Father by their reverence for life,
prophets and lovers aglow with the given tenderness of Jesus' own Spirit, people
who live only to love and to reveal love to others. The world craves
evidence that the impossible dream is possible, that love exists, that it has a
name, that it's the only option for happiness in this world and eternal joy in
the next.
If you have a dream, it's only a dream; if I have a dream, it remains but a dream. But if we all have the same dream, even if it's an impossible dream, it will become reality."

That resonates in my heart. As soon as the life within me began connecting with His, I started looking for Him at work in the church and in others. Analyzing. It's funny actually. I've lived TRYING to live this truth from the other perspective... the one attempting to show HIM to the world, by my own power. Really not connecting the truth that someone along the way was used to show me the dream and that I’m still watching for it in others. It's what makes truth believable! Does it really work; is it/he real? Sometimes I felt disappointed honestly, but still searched for Him in this life, hoped for Him. By this seeking and hoping He guided me into a relationship that searches together all the while gaining Him. No longer do I look primarily for that life in the beloved, accept for the opportunity to bond with those hearts, but now blessed with the certainty of His presence and power slowly grabbing a hold of the reality of my blessedness. Asking, Seeking and Finding day by day the way to pass that hope and His Love on to another! I'm obviously never better, only hopefully obviously found.

I certainly have dreams! I'm inspired by the miraculous power of God to change hearts. I desire faith enough to beg of those miracles. At the same time... Can I? I mean the Spirit does His work. I can't force another and God WILL NOT force another. So, how do my requests for hearts to be filled instigate change? It is evidence of His passion running through my veins. He's surely doing everything He can already with every living being! Attempting with passion to melt hearts by His presence, lovingly extending the action of His Spirit among them even in their ignorance. Is it mine to be his by putting me away, giving me to him?

We hopefully, faithfully pray that God will shield them/us from Satan's fiery arrows. That God will bind Satan so that the hearts around us will not be distracted by his tricks and enticements. I guess that's the way to intercede. It’s a fierce longing for efficiency in prayer, to be attentive to His heart and leading, getting out of the way as HE works in this world through me. It reminds me of the first time, as a high school freshman, I stepped on the basketball court with the Varsity. My previous experience limited to jr high games with other jr high girls. What a difference! How embarrassing, but what a challenge… as I realized it was time to run to the other end, I’d noticed they were ALL already at half court! When I’d finally find the person I was guarding… they were scoring a basket! Fortunately that awkwardness ended and thankfully I remember only one game that way. Oh I desire a familiarity, tenderness, vulnerability, trust with God’s Spirit that’s able to see with the eyes of Christ. To have hands and a face that’s no longer visible to the world but only His likeness through me in step and on time with the action of His LOVE!

The Illusion Mystifies

noreply@blogger.com (Z) — Tue, 08 Jul 2008 15:02:00 +0000

We live a life of illusion seeking achievement, status, value, love and legacy. We desire a life built nobly by hard work, ingenuity and admittedly a little luck. Our hopes dangerously placed in the security of the temporary. We hold onto the majesty of our own will, the determination to be whom we choose, to become all we can imagine through mystified eyes. We Grasp for and awkwardly disperse the God given gifts and abilities that will assist US to this end. It's a fabrication of lies that creates within us the inability to be made glorious! A twisting of truth that chains our ambition to what is humanly seen. It's a self-built prison that demands we take responsibility for our humanness and find a way to remedy our own condition. The illusion mystifies us into trying and trying and trying... ugh. Stuck in a damaging, unintentional and futile attempt to take on the roll of God.

2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by
the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's
will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.
Romans 12:2

God maintains the responsibility for our becoming. A given life is lived moment by moment as we choose to rely on our own trying or seek a life unveiled. His life fills the places in our being that we surrender, our hopes and dreams, our failings and damage. He awaits our seeking, patiently revealing to our hindered spirit His desire to complete us, His creation. His life comes flowing in and by association the Spirit of God transforms us from within. Our legacy lies within the flow of His life through us as the evidence of His glory. Yet, we blindly dwell in our doorless cell all the while missing a fearless exploration of a life unimagined, a promise of the miraculous. He's a freedom from the ordinary, the temporary, the illusion of life that mystifies us to a deadly complacency spinning it’s wheels in the trying. In this beautiful surrender we receive glimpses of reality seen through God's eyes, a continuous completion and revelation.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet
inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary
troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen
is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18