“Life was simple before World War II. After that, we had systems.”

                                                -G. Hopper

“You weren't born to be a cog in the giant industrial machine. You were trained to become one.”

                                                -Seth Godin

 

I have been wondering lately if I am crazy. I think it really is more about feeling crazy- like I and so many around me have been duped, drugged, and dragged. If you have not noticed lately or been aware of it, you are living in a system. A pungent system designed to numb, comfort, and kill you. The numbing robs the very awareness you need and the desire to discern, the comfort replaces peace and sufficiency, and the chaos…well it is just chaos- a destruction of all that is good, true, and real.  life It seems the world around me has a formula for what success looks like- and many have bought the factory along with instructions on how to run it. They think they know how people should fit into that place, these predetermined boxes, slots, and square holes that give them the needed “pat on the back” security in how to run the company. They put profit before people, growth before character, and security before gifts. For them it is the only thing they have known. The system is very good at indoctrinating every person on every level from newbies to old bees and the lessons have produced results and a bottom line. The tragedy is that on many levels the system has “worked” and given them the american dream; a larger home (housing less people), more stuff to fill the empty spaces (oh how we hate empty spaces), and a core belief we deserve what we have worked and we better keep it up. We better fall in line if we are to get our porridge. We better learn the ancestors dance.

Is a bear meant to dance?

When I voyage out into the great mountains of Colorado I am always reminded of the delicate frailty, shared beauty, and vast unpredictability of raw nature. One of the thoughts that always pops itself into my head is the chance that I might cross paths with a bear. There is a part of me that thinks that would be cool, especially if it was close enough to watch for awhile. But if I were to get too close, I could be dinner for that very bear I admire. That is just the reality of it- things could go either direction, hopefully not the latter. But have you ever seen a dancing bear in a circus? Stripped of its dignity it often wears some decorated outfit (sometimes even a pink dress), is controlled by its trainer, and amuses a crowd of spectators. The bear has no idea how silly he looks but I would bet a million dollars he is thinking that this is what he should be doing for now. He has been trained to twirl, shuffle his feet, and bob his head…you might call it indoctrination. He really looks stupid but we laugh mockingly and maybe even endearingly at each move he makes which represents hours of practice, intimidation, and a giant re-creation of the image of bear. All he has and all he does appears as a great ability, a wondrous result of training, and a taming for a “safer” bear. But a bear is a bear unless he has been brain-washed, dressed, and expected to waltz for the masses. But when the night stills and the day draws to an end, after all the dancing and body contortions, he tries to sleep but is haunted in his tiny cage. Maybe that night he has a faint memory of days he walked proudly in the wild, hunted and foraged for his food, and taking naps in the warm sun under the aspen and ponderosa pines. That was real and good. Now his food comes to him, he works on making the perfect spin, and the sun from a long day falls crookedly on his broken toothless smile. This is false and dead.

Can you dance with the bear?

If you are like me, I bet you have some outfits you have worn all your life, some moves honed perfectly, and some mocking dreams that still your beating heart. You have been numbed, comforted, and killed by another's measured success,  by those who have trained you to believe just what that is and how to get it. Maybe you have even taught others about the best way to achieve the american dream is to dance like they want you to, conform to the image they put around your waist, and you will never think it is really stupid. But it is…profoundly. Have you followed the way of the dancing bear? Do you trust your training in the system so much that you have trained others to stay in the system- maybe even fear it? Do you get what is happening? Do you smell the pile of crap you have been given and call it mountain mist? Do you want more?

 “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life and have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd.”

                                                -Jesus Christ

 

 

Awareness of the Shadow- the shadows are the places we have learned to hide or repress because they brought about punishment or disapproval. It is the person I do not want to be, never want to be seen with, and it is often this person I see in others that makes me reject them often ending in some level of abandonment or persecution.

Story.

I am about 9 and I am super competitive by nature, wanting to win all the time. This was not taught by my dad, my coaches, or friends…it just flowed. I loved to win but the impending assault of punishment and disapproval by my peers and trusted adults was strong and mighty. During recess I would play football, dodge ball, or just about any game. If my team won or if I did well my punishment was loss of friendship. They would ignore me or ignore inviting me to play again. My coaches were different in that they had expectations of me to perform. I was stuck. I even remember the rage of this spilling out of me during games where the loss of friendship was not at stake and I would unload my anger on anyone that was not playing well. I would hate playing with “untalented” kids as I saw them. Later on in 7^th grade when I moved to New York I was just one of many good athletes yet I could not shake this rage that turned inward and then I saw myself as average…thus I hated myself for being average. After 3 days of basketball tryouts I looked for my name on the final cut list and it was not there…I stood motionless except for my wet eyes for what seemed like hours staggered in unbelief that I was not picked.

My shadow self began to grow, tearing me into pieces as I would deeply desire to be competitive again but never could I really shine again. I would rarely play out of freedom, rather I would play out of fear of failure of making a mistake because then I would be considered average or lacking and also I would play from a place of fear of success because I might lose friends. I remember one of the guys on my basketball team told me to shoot on the left side of the court because his side was the right side. That does not work in basketball because the game is meant for movement all over the court. I was paralyzed and decided that friendship was more important than me shining so I shot on the left side only. I cannot tell you the hell it was to live out of this divided place because I was damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Sometime I remember sweating profusely if I was called upon to take a leadership position like point guard. That meant someone else was not leading and may not be my friend again. Would I lose a friend? It also meant that I had pressure from the coach to play good or I would not get a second chance. Would I be able to play good enough to not be embarrassed? Winning became a problem either way and so I lived this way…for years! Finally getting out of the state at the end of my junior year in high school and moving to Colorado was the beginning of my healing because I was released to shoot…and I came alive in spurts and giggles…but at least it was something. My team wanted me to do well. But so much had happened in this room of my subconscious that much stayed below the surface, hiding from others, hiding from myself, hiding from God.

What makes these areas of the shadow grow like fungus among us (like mushrooms) is that they never are exposed to the light from a father. I see these shadow places within me as breathing the poison of the spirit of fatherlessness. A good Father sees you, gives you perspective and tells you it is good to be yourself no matter what friends say. A good Father takes notice of the battle waged over your heart and he sweeps down and administers justice! He becomes the defender of the defenseless. He becomes the coach not of specific sports fundamentals of dribbling and shooting but he is the coach of the heart. He teaches you that you have what it takes and with a great smile and laughter continues to put you in the game. He teaches you that if your friends reject you because you have played better than them, they are not really friends. If coaches demand perfection from you without showing they love you and believe in you then they are not worthy to lead. I have found that my real friends today like me because of who I am…that is one thing my Father has taught me. Also I have learned that my Father…he is very fond of me. May the Father of light shine, shine, and shine brighter and truer into these very scared and sacred, tender and terrible, hiding and holy places! I still need his fathering today because the shadow self will always be there in some degree because it is part of my story…but not the whole story! He says to me that all darkness is light to him and that is a good thing for the shadow to hear. Tell the story of your shadow...I would love to hear!

 

 

Recently I was overwhelmed with the vast amount of longing I live with and in most cases this lives undefined. It all happened this afternoon as I enjoyed a coffee and a book during siesta time. The book is called "The Prodigal God" www.theprodigalgod.comby Tim Keller. Tim has some great insights about the  parable Jesus taught in the book of Luke, Chapter 15 in that he describes the sin of the elder son being the same as the sin of the younger son...unbelief that the heart of the Father is good. It has been a great read but the main objective of the book was not what struck me this morning. The chapter that struck me was RedefiningHope...a chapter talking about this longing we have for home.

Although I have had moments of longing for home back in Colorado where friends and family await, it has not been persuasive enough for my heart to linger there or concentrate on what I do not have here in the Dominican Republic. God has given me the grace and wisdom to live in the moment here and declare to my soul, "This Is It" or in other words...live today in the present,for God and his children are found in the present. The reality struck me about the haunting that I tend to live with, a haunting I believe we all live with...a haunting for the eternity hidden in our hearts.

It began with a memory of a home I used to own. There is a longer story about why I do not live there now but that is not what I want to focus my energy on...rather it was the haunting. It was not even so much the home...it was the garage. The garage was un mistakenly my place to just be. It was where I smoked my pipe, enjoyed a few beers, played cards with my buddies, listened to music, worshiped God, and built things. It was always adorned with dog hair from my dog Aspen and he would always check up on me to make sure I was ok before he would slumber out for an afternoon stroll in search of the elusive rabbit. It was where I talked to God and learned to invite him into my woodworking, ranch work, and various tasks all mostly accomplished in this wonderful place. It was also a place I would work out in and write songs and poems...it was truly a place I loved to visit after work and the in-between times. My favorite time was at the end of a hard day when the sunset would begin it's display of bright and laughing colors then transitioning into more subdued hues,cerulean blue...my favorite color in the world. It was here I would think and wonder out loud, creating space for God to speak and Aspen to ask for pets and treats. It was in many ways a working man's sanctuary.

Ladies, I understand this may seem like I am falsely painting an accurate picture because for all you know a garage is just a place to put things...but for me it was much more than that. Actually I believe that Jesus is creating a place for me and that place will have a home...but a HUGE garage! You see there is a longing that I cannot quite articulate here, a wind that blows in all directions, and a story much too large in which I have been given a line to write...and I do not know how to say it...but the loss of my garage hit me in the strangest way today. I actually had tears as I remembered all this and that it is all but a memory now.

Men may know what I speak of especially if they have had this sacred space to call their own. We are territorial by nature and that is a good thing in many ways...the garage can be a touch point for God and man to interact. Jesus spent many days in his father's wood shop (or garage) and it must have been a great place to learn, talk with Joseph, and enjoy the day fading into the evening...a hard days work harbor...a place where He would pray to His true Father. I wonder if Jesus misses those days too.

Back to the tears. Really...why on earth does this come back now...here? Then I started to think of all the boys here that long for home. What do they remember? Is it a favorite tree where they could climb and swing from? Is it the food that only mom could make? I wonder what makes them stare off into the sky and talk tearfully without saying a word? We all long for the same thing but we suffer to explain the longing well enough to satisfy our soul.

There is a day coming when we will enjoy the presence of the Father. When all our hopes will be met and our tears wiped away. When we will have the pangs satisfied by the presence of the Father in the place created for us by our true Elder Brother...I hope mine is a big fat garage!

June 9th, 2010

Dani, a very thin boy about age 7, held onto me tonight and would not let go. He wanted to be around me so I put my arm around him and pulled him in. He wanted me to help him do pull-ups and so I did. Later all the boys watched "Where The Wild Things Are" a movie that had most of the interns advising against it. The movie was shown and all the time I was seeing the movie through their eyes. It was as if God gave me an emotion of what being alone in the mind of a young boy who was just so angry and unseen that he had to visit another world where he could be king. As movie progressed to the last scene and that boy is leaving the shores, Dani and 5 other boys began to cry. I was in tears as well and my heart was feeling the ache and the need to belong somewhere. The boy howled back at the monster friend and the monster howled back...my spirit howled with them and then all was silent. I asked God if He would father the boys and wrap them into his loving arms where they can be angry and feel all the things a young boys must feel to be a boy. I had tears that evening and wept for their journey...I simply do not know what to do with their tears even though I may understand where they come from. I thanked my Father and slept. The Face of Dani was cradled in the King's arms that night.

June 11th, 2010

Today was more seeing. Took a walk with God and read more of my book "An Undivided Soul" by Parker Palmer. Played kickball with the boys and later that night lifted them boys up so they could do pull-ups. A fever broke out for pull-ups and before I knew it 10 boys were wanting me to lift them up to see what they could do...it was an amazing time of lifting boys up to the heavens. I sat for awhile in a bug infested area listening to Christian and Wikki play with the keyboard as it rang out the tune "My Heart Will Go On" by Celine Dion. Then it hit me...this song is about the heart going on in the midst of a great separation, mythical remembrance and longing...but why this song? I know something about separation. About 12 years ago this song filled the airwaves on the radio almost to an annoying camber. It was the song that marked my honeymoon, the movie we saw in Loveland, CO...and it was the song I heard that made me weep sitting in a parking lot during my separation from my wife that eventually led to divorce. An ending, a separation I never wanted yet here it was starring me in the face...a distance between us forever marked. What did they hear in this song? Do they know the words and what they mean...probably not. Many of these boys were abandoned or dropped off simply because their parent or parents cannot or will not take care of them. Theirs is a separation that stings far into the night and howls at the moon begging an answer! Yet in the distant night I hear this song haunt me as it seems to linger in the humid challis of the dim moon. We together experience the song in different ways, in mythical ways, and in longing ways. We have questions that have no answers...we have faces staring into stars of the kingdom of heaven. Alas...I sit and wonder into the night just why this song wreaks of hope and longing so fierce that it can only be told in a melody...the boys and I do our best to play along to each note. And the notes carry into the damp air and pierce the Fathers heart once again.

When I was a kid I used to play with Tonka trucks for hours. Tonka trucks were "the toy" for boys my age. In fact the place where they used to make them was only a few miles from my house in Minnesota. One day my parents surprised me and took me on a tour of the plant...I thought I was in heaven! Big yellow dump trucks, cranes, plows, and anything that replicated moving dirt in large quantities...seriously what could be cooler!! You see a Tonka truck mirrored the larger trucks but in a much smaller way in that they were strong enough to take a beating, you could put a variety of action figures in them, and they actually could haul and move dirt...small piles...but dirt none-the-less. They even left tread marks on the ground and could help you build a small town, roads, or make a huge hole in an attempt to dig to China.

At work this week I operated a tractor for the first time in my life...and it was awesome! Beginning my ascent into the drivers seat I found myself feeling very young. But something inside was stirring even deeper and it was this sense of this epic story coming full circle...it was a real Tonka truck! Sitting in the control cab I was amazed at all the gears, levers, and knobs. I was instructed on the use of each one, when to use them and then given the green light to go. This thing even had a radio in it set to a country station playing "Red Dirt Road"...one of my favorite country songs...could this get any cooler? The power that I had felt raw and dangerous. I thought to myself, "Wow I could have fun smashing things with this!" It was a really cool couple hours of moving, pulling, smashing, and trashing things. I felt like I had just gained a stripe of masculinity and I wanted to tell everyone.

Have you ever wondered about your life and the cyclical pattern it seems to weave? What about times when you stop and think, "I have been here before...why am I back?" I wondered the same thing the entire week after driving the tractor. In my new job I am the maintenance guy at Britton Nursery www.BrittonFlowers.com which requires working outside on different projects all day. I fix roofs, dig holes, repair things, trim bushes, and just about anything else that needs to be done...and this also means I get to use some cool machines, drive trucks & tractors, and get my hands into the earth. It has been good for my soul after working desk jobs for 10 years. I love how my mind thinks multiple steps ahead of tasks, how I work hard and finish the jobs ahead of schedule, and how I get to create again like I used to...engaging in work! I love the sun on my face, the wind in my hair (a little less now days than before), and dirt on my clothes. God's soil is good for man's soul. It all takes me back 25 years.

My first job was in 7th grade as I worked part time as the maintenance boy for a convent and retreat center in Highland Mills, New York. This place was where I found my aptitude to work hard and work smart. It was a place filled with weeds, leaves, & poison ivy, silence & solitude, a creepy graveyard, and lots of nuns- some mean ones but mostly sweet ones. Sister Cora was about 4 feet tall, spoke with a strong Ukrainian accent, and drove a mean car...when she could pull herself up to see above the steering wheel to make turns. She worked me hard but she was fair and reasonable except for the day she wanted me to burn poison ivy...a potentially lethal action. I would work under the hot sun pulling weeds for hours in the leech bed (a place where all the sewage ran into), mowed lawns & destroyed weeds, raked acres of leaves, and even using a chain saw to cut up branches. There was honor in the work and a place to become the young man. I am also reminded of this place where I began this integration of the physical and spiritual. I would find myself stopping for a few minutes in their small prayer rooms or chapels just to listen to God and ask him questions. I even remember feeling a very strong presence of peace and transcendence with God that I cannot fully describe to you as I took time to breath the air and drink the waters of transformation...work and worship. Now I feel the pleasure of God as I work with my hands and invite Him in to Father me. Today is the day of transformation both external and internal. With the tractor & truck comes the transformation if I choose to engage and invite God to speak, discipline, and teach me...other than that it will just be work, toil, and labor in vain.

I have often thought about the chasm between the physical world and the spiritual world and how I have tried to reconcile why many tend to live in one or the other. In western Christianity we have gone about with agendas of defining and understanding all things we see as mystery by creating processes of dissection we hold sacred. We pull apart scripture so we can know the meaning of each word so we can make sure we have our theology correct often to the diminishment of our relationship with the God of the Bible. We have lost the integration of walking with God and somehow lost the wisdom and synergy of the physical and spiritual worlds together. We have divided something that in reality cannot be divided. The physical world and the spiritual world were meant to exist and teach together. Dallas Willard says that if God is not God of everything He is God of nothing. In other words if God is not intimately involved in our work we will tend to divide the physical and spiritual with the eventual loss of the deep essence of why they exist must together. I want to embrace living in both with God.

"I consider the old way a pile of crap compared to the greatness of knowing Jesus inside and out..."

-The Apostle Paul (Nathan's Paraphrase)

So...I am pretty glad 2009 is over, how about you? Today I have been thinking about the differences between shedding (walking a path from an old place, someone, or a way of seeing) and clothing (walking a path towards a new place, someone, or new vision). Recently I got rid of a bunch of shirts, pants,and other clothes and gave them to Goodwill. They simply do not fit me anymore as I have shed 30 pounds in the past year and feel like I am 10 years younger...or more. Early last year my friend Scott introduced me to a new way- P90X; a home workout lifestyle that is designed to help you think and behave differently. He walked this new path and simply invited me to join him. He has been a huge part of my transformation as he has personally coached and encouraged me along the way. My journey is far from being over and it has really just begun but the change is here and the effect on my life has been transformational in how I see myself, others, and most importantly God. It is a new way of freedom through deepened desire that requires shedding an old way and clothing in a new way.

Shedding is a time tested physical and spiritual journey that involves the opening of desire. New desire often calls something out of us and that is a word called repentance. The word "repentance" is a word about movement and desire. It means to turn from one direction and to go in a completely different direction. Repentance is desire in action, not simply a belief system, dream, or trying to be optimistic. It is a series of small choices each day to press the play button and engage with desire for more...and this desire is deeply spiritual and physical. I have known many people who have tried to leave an old way or an old behavior that is harmful to their whole person by only engaging in only 1/2 of who they are. Lets say the harmful way is overeating. If someone who overeats just tries to stop eating large quantities of food they will usually not see results. It involves eating healthy foods along with a desire to be healthy...not just behaving healthy. The way out is to engage with desire, and this naturally leads to a new way of thinking and doing that starves the old way...letting it die a cruel, essential, and meaningful death.

Clothing is a patient physical and spiritual hunt that involves the deepening of desire. For me, one of the more difficult questions to answer is, "What do you want?" I often find myself stuck and speechless. Sometimes I will babble a couple things that come to the surface but not usually reflecting a deep sought out desire. I have found that the problem is in long hunt for deeper desire. Most of my life the narrative that I was given was one of holding desire in contempt and mistrust. There was often a fear of what desire would do if fully engaged in and so I would often bury it with doing "good things" so as to show everyone that I am "being good" and this sent a message to my peers that I am different because I do not desire much...I do not want anything more than to be a good boy and be easily satisfied. Wow! THat was like living in a large pile of shit and telling others I was enjoying it...that I was fine.  I am beginning to ask this question first now...I start with the deep desire question. If I do not ask the question, "What do you I want...really?" I will always live in the same place and I will not shed the old way unto new life. As I ask this question it is the beginning of the deepening of desire. In prayer I go further into my heart, a new heart where God resides, lives, and moves. WHen I come out of the hunt I find buried treasures of woven gold that the Father has been holding for me...and they are new clothes that fit! He places them on me and I become who I was meant to become!

I do not want to give the illusion that walking in a new way is easy, but the choices become clearer the further in I go. The integrity is simply my spiritual and physical "choosing" in the way I really want to go. And when forget or loose track of the way I ask my Father and He gently and powerfully leads me back in the new way. So what do you want? Are you aware of your desire for more? Are you afraid of shedding an old way? My prayer is that God would remove our fear with His love...that His kind love would deepen desire for true repentance and usher in this year of double portion blessing...an overflowing new golden robe that fits!

Waiting dresses as anticipation in very different tones when the object of waiting is a who versus a what. Have you ever had to wait for some big event to begin? The waiting touches us more on the surface as our senses become acute to sights, sounds, and movement...but it does not usually touch us personally or deeply at the level of the heart...unless another dimension is touched. It is the dimension of contemplation. In October I flew down to Phoenix to attend my first ever U2 concert. Prior to the show a friend of mine and I were stuck in traffic for over 2 hours covering a grand distance of 1 mile! The anticipation turned into a soured frustration as we participated in the worst event bottle-necking traffic flow and parking design on the planet. I think if a group of penguins were flown in to manage the event they would have done a smashing job compared to this event staff. I guess I was thankful they were not hired as air traffic control at the airport. We missed the opening act but did get to enjoy U2 work their magic...and the evening was salvaged...mostly. So as I stood in line after the concert to get an extremely overpriced T-Shirt, I began to think of the event. I felt distant and almost empty standing there in my shoes...and my new shirt. I was only getting the best the event could offer...I was only entertained. Unfortunately I did not get to sit down after the concert with Bono and have a Guinness...that would have made it better. Events offer only what their nature cannot encompass...the weight  essence of connection to another...no matter how spectacular they are.

When was the last time you felt "the waiting" for someone whom you really like to be with? Did it feel different in your heart? My guess is that the conditions may not have been perfect; dry or rainy, day or night, cold or hot...but did you even notice? Probably not. You would probably even put up with penguins organizing the parking. My take is that in that anticipation there was more going on inside than outside. Have you ever stopped to ask why that experience? The interior flesh tones are almost like a song that moves slow and steady, good and true, like a deep moving river or maybe a crashing ocean wave! Then when you actually are with that person it seems like the conditions get better no matter what they were before. A snowy day becomes transcendent and wonderful as you watch the snow fall on each other, the trees above and street below...heck you might even go sledding. A rainy day creates puddles to be played in, colors of trees and rocks run deeper and true, and even the smell of the air changes to emit meaning like stories told from wise old men with leather skin. The difference here is that you take notice. You become more aware and the awareness grows like a concert of the senses cycling to a harmonious convergence...and all is well...come what may. The surface of the ordinary quickens and calls out for more with each breath of your heart. This very difference of the two waitings show us the way to more than we might think. Life is empty and drab without deep relationship experiencedd...the event is...well...just the shell on the surface.

Advent season is a time of waiting for Christ to come to us and live with us...it is not just an event. It is a time when we are waiting with others for our lover to set us free. If we are aware of this time and the one we are waiting for we become part of the story. We are all the wise man searching, waiting and walking in a long journey to see the Christ-child. We are all the shepherds surprised by the blast of light and love from the ordinary night of watching sheep. We are all Mary and Joseph asking for a place to wait for the CHrist and behold his face. We are all the prisoner in need of greater freedom and the brokenhearted that longs for deeper healing. How we see and what we are aware of this Christmas will determine the type of waiting we experience. Will we shop frantically and crank the busy agenda or will we stop and let a snowflake settle on our outstretched tongue and feel the cool breeze awaken our senses? Will we fret over measuring and mastering our finances like Ebeneezer or will we warm someone's heart with the cup of a generous overflow. Wait with me during Advent with wonder and childlike anticipation for the who not the what...and feel it all!

Last week in my Spiritual Formation class a question was asked that really made me think. The question was, "What difference, if any, does it make to you whether or not a personal God is included in your spirituality?" I hope you enjoy my answer below.

If God was not personal then even the concept of spirituality would be meaningless at best and sterile at worst. So I guess I have to start there because no other premise or origin can suffice as a platform for adventure into spirituality. It is not a question of "what is spirituality" (which keeps spirituality distant and separate from me like a plant or a piece of furniture) that I might engage with it when I want to and leave it at my earliest convenience. “WHAT” in connection with the physical world is not sustainable because creation is not sustained by itself but rather with its connection with another and saturation of life from another. This is where we find that the heavens declare God's majesty- words being the origin of life.
The quest and question we must ask ourselves is “who is spiritual”? If we have desires that exist in us to love and be loved, to understand and be understood then we have to ask “why that desire?” If we want spirituality to be apart of our lives then we could not have created this desire on our own, the desire comes from a sacred place within that has and will be there all of our lives. God is spiritual and therefore we are also spiritual and this truth is of heavier weight than that of the physical world. When God spoke the world and mankind into existence by spiritual rhema (breath or word of God) it was not just for a single purpose use as to create but it was also used to sustain and grow the physical world. Words carry the power of life and the power of death as they are functionally used to communicate either a blessing or a curse. If you ask anyone about wounds they received when they were young, the most longstanding wounds are carried by words, with or without physical action. Even if a horrific action has taken place, the action is given validation by the words that accompany it either from the enemy of our lives or by a person close enough to us to deliver the words of death. Therefore words connect the spiritual and physical in a very significant way. The word that most connects the two worlds is beloved…but more on that later.

Next is the evolution from the question of “who is spiritual” to “why spirituality”. Why do spiritual beings exist if they are not showing us the very nature of a God who is by nature spiritual like us in many ways. The creator forms its creation from some place within- with similar ideas, function, and purpose. God is also spiritually unlike us in many ways because the creator simply sees more and therefore is always greater in understanding and love than the creation in idea, function, and purpose. This is not a distant “greater” but a necessary one. This understanding of “like” and “unlike” form the very mystery of God’s nature and the nature of the world God created. There is then a sense that spirituality is essential to the soul world like water is to the physical world. Without water the physical world is simply unsustainable and without spirituality the soul world is unsustainable but in a greater degree and effect because the spiritual is greater (in the consequence of eternity and origin) that the physical. This is why it deeply saddens me that many people do not know they need the spiritual at least as much as the physical. They live as if they were body mainly sustained only by the physical world. This is why the deep waters of spirituality within are rarely plummeted and discovered…it is simply not on their radar. Only at times of pain & sustained suffering or beauty & love does the spiritual knock on the door of the physical. For many, it is at the end of the physical world where the spiritual is finally addressed and entered into, but usually for a very short time. It is a matter of sustaining and growing life with spirituality that many do not understand. The spiritual calls out to our soul that THERE IS MORE. The soul through the heart cries out to the body I WANT MORE but usually the body attempts to sustain itself with the physical only…a shortsighted and lethal mistake. WHY SPIRITUALITY? Because the whole person must live and live abundant and free.

The reason God must be personal is because God by nature of being creator must be in both worlds to lovingly sustain and grow them. If God was not personal then our very existence has no true purpose other than taking up physical space in a physical world. In all the stories we read in the Bible and even other spiritual books, we see God interacting with man, we see an invasion into the human world and our daily dilemma because without personal interaction we die. It is similar to infants and their need for physical touch. If a baby is left for a significant time without nearness, closeness and touch from another human being, they die inside out. If spirituality matters then it matters most to us personally. When we hear a word from someone spoken to us that is life giving we immediately take this as personal- in other words directed to us and for our consumption and regeneration. God could not be any different in that sense, nor would we want him to be. What good would an impersonal God be to us? If that were true then the answer God might give us on any longing we have might also be not only impersonal but very unhelpful. It would be like getting a map of the world when all we need to figure out is how to navigate from Denver to New York. We might get directions on how to fly an airplane when what we really wanted was peace in the middle of a rugged flight. It would beg the question maybe it is not God who is impersonal with us but maybe it is we who are impersonal with God. Perhaps we view God wrong and then call God what God is not. God is personal or spirituality simply does not exist beyond the word itself…and neither do we.