deliverance

I am seeking deliverance.

Deliverance from the mundane, the monotonous, the mediocre, the mire.  What I seek is deliverance from my own mind.

In the movie, The Matrix, Morpheus sought to free minds from the grip of the matrix, a false reality.  Jesus seeks to do the same.  He frees us from the constructed realities of our minds and reveals the truth.  But it is difficult for the mind to let go.  Like the Hebrews, sometimes I want to return to Egypt, to bondage.  My mind believes the shackles hold me, but in truth the shackles don’t exist. 

Milton wrote, “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

If I can train my mind to see reality instead of the facade then no shackle can hold me, no force can deter me, and nothing can separate me from the love of Christ.  If I can grasp the depth of what it means to have the mind of Christ, then perhaps I can begin to explore what it is to live with strength, vitality, joy, love.

Lofty goals? Or attainable realities?

You decide.

truth

There is truth. There are lies. Sometimes I wonder how to tell the difference. Sometimes I wonder which things I accept as truth are lies in disguise.

Lately, I am struggling because I want to lay hold of something concrete in my mind. I want the answers. I’m sick of sitting with questions. I realize that I will never have it all figured out, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting that. I realize that once a human being makes up his mind about something, it becomes increasingly difficult to believe anything else. We read and watch and listen and look for proof that our own beliefs are the correct ones.

I want my mind to remain open to new ideas, yet I want stability of thought. I want to anchor myself in unalienable truths, to wrap myself in the comfort of absolutes. I want to see my world and touch it and feel that it is really there, that it won’t change on me once I turn away. But life doesn’t work like that.

Relationships change.
Presidents change.
Laws change.
Seasons change.
Diapers change.
I change.
You change.
God doesn’t change.

That last part seems a little out of sync, doesn’t it? But the bible says it and I believe it. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8

I have been told to seek truth in the bible and I believe it lies there. God passed his story down to us and I keep looking to his story to try to understand life. Where I get murky is when I find it necessary to interpret what God is saying through the bible. Because it seems to me that there are a myriad of angles to this story. I am afraid I’ll see what I want to see, that my eyes will cloud over the truth in my efforts to maintain my secure structure of beliefs.

So I find it hard to land.

I find myself balancing between fluidity and fixedness. I am trying to embrace openness to new perspectives, ideas and truths while also grounding myself in promises and commandments, liberties and laws, proverbs and psalms. My roots are sinking deeper and my limbs are stretching higher...
at least, I hope so.

tulips

I’ve been noticing evidence of spring outside.

Like many other people, spring is my favorite season. Spring breathes life into things that you thought were dead. The sleeping seed buried within the earth awakens and produces something beautiful and unquestionably, alive.

We have new neighbors again this year. The house to my left has seen a number of residents in my tenure. But these are the first occupants of the home to notice the bright yellow tulips that grow along the west side of the house. There are no other flowers on the property. Most people living there never notice them because they usually don’t bloom. But my new neighbors are different. As the first days of spring stretched on, I heard them talking excitedly about the plant growing by the deck. Then I saw them watering it, day after day. My neighbors give the flowers their love and attention. And the flowers bloom.

They are beautiful.

Sometimes it feels as though certain parts of me are dead. Pieces within me that once belonged somewhere and made up the person that is me are now seemingly invisible. But, I think the pieces are still there, just like the seed of the tulip is still there even when you cannot see its blooms. I think perhaps the parts of me that I cannot see right now are lying dormant, waiting for the sun to awaken them, waiting for the breath of life to call them forth from the confines of the darkened earth.

shrapnel

Dallas Willard discusses the "gospel of sin management" in his book, The Divine Conspiracy, and several other authors share similar views on the subject. To summarize, they are saying we Christians tend to spend a lot of time trying not to sin, and I believe this is true, we do. By our own hand I believe we have largely defined Christianity as a religion focused on following the rules and avoiding sin.

So, what is the difference between a person who has decided to invite God into his life through Christ and is trying to follow the rules and be a good person, and someone who has no interest in relationship with God, but is still trying to be a good person and having some measure of success at this way of life? Both of these people will continue to do some bad things, maybe even a lot of bad things, over the course of their lives. Both will do good things as well.

To attempt to answer this question, let me tell you about a movie Thane and I recently watched, Ironman. In this movie the main character is, ironically, injured by one of his own missiles and the shrapnel lodges itself within his body. This deadly shrapnel is attracted to the source of his vitality and life force, his heart. Without aid the shrapnel will slowly work its way into his heart, eventually killing him. But fortunately for our character, a noble doctor crosses his path and installs a crude magnetic device in his chest to repel the shrapnel, thereby preventing the deadly metal shards from piercing his heart. Because our beloved main character is a genius, he makes dramatic improvements upon the crude magnetic device of the doctor’s design ultimately creating a circular magnetized structure that he will forever wear in his chest. It is in this way that Ironman is born and retains his life.

God keeps me alive just as this magnetic device keeps the Ironman alive. God is a protective force that dwells within my being, repelling the deadly shrapnel of sin and death. Without him my heart would eventually be penetrated by the poisonous shrapnel and I would progress down a path that leads to death. But with God, I live.

So, while outwardly all of us who follow Christ may appear to be very much like anyone else, if you open our shirts and look at our hearts, you will see the glow of life provided by God’s life-giving protective force, keeping the shrapnel of sin and death from penetrating our souls.

a fistful of dirt

Have you ever fantasized about being someone different?

As a girl I can remember the aching desire to be someone, or something, else. I dreamed of being a bird able to soar far above the treetops and skim across the top of the ocean, or a horse with strong, powerful legs and a flowing, wild mane. I also wished to be several others things… the popular girl, the beautiful girl, the smartest girl, the girl with the best body, or the best skin or the best something. Instead, I felt ordinary and plain.

Thus began a long journey up Achievement Mountain. Perhaps you have traveled this road too? The path winds up a treacherous incline and the way involves striving, reaching, climbing, pushing… but always, even when your steps are taking you up the mountain, there is a nagging, relentless whip lashing at you, driving you on. No achievement is enough to silence this taskmaster. You think with the next step the voice will finally diminish. But the opposite happens, it grows louder and increasingly insistent. I have discovered that this mountain has no summit. There is no end to this uphill battle. I will never “get there.”

No matter how high I climb, I am still me. I’m not able to be someone else. I realize that I am being transformed. Christ is changing me, and I see those changes and celebrate them. But there are some things that haven’t changed about me and I don’t know if they ever will. It is difficult for me to accept this. But I believe acceptance, not perfection, is the path to joy.

My hope is that I will learn to take firm hold of acceptance, instead of grasping handfuls of dirt on Achievement Mountain.

a sunny day in november

Unusual weather for November, isn’t it?

I took my girls to the park on Monday and while we were there I noticed how stunning it was. The sun was descending through the sky, making its arc toward the western horizon. A thick blanket of orange, golden and auburn leaves covered the grass. And it was warm. I remember thinking that these types of days are rare in November. Days like this don’t make a big impression on me in June or even September, because most of us know that there will be more days like these in the not-too-distant future. But because this day occurred in November, I am aware that it is one of the last before winter. And that knowledge makes me want to hold on to it.

When a person is dying and their loved ones know it, they make efforts to create space for intimate conversations and special moments that they can keep with them when their loved one leaves. As a beautiful thing comes to a close, we all do what we can to hold onto its beauty a little longer.

This experience of awareness at the park with my girls made me think about time and mortality, things beginning and things ending. It made me want to hold onto beautiful things that I know cannot last. Being there helped me to become more aware of my own existence and the existence of the world around me. No startling revelations occurred at the moment, just a sense of peace. Reflecting on it, I believe that peace was a result of an aligning of my soul with reality. Like the thin places the Celtics believed in, this place felt holy somehow. I was alive and present right there, relieved of the incessant nagging of my mind tugging at me to go somewhere else.

the freight car

A while back I had a dream.

I dreamt that I was riding in the last car of a freight train. I was there with my sister and my mom, and we were traveling a great distance. We were in a foreign land, a place unfamiliar to us. I couldn’t tell you where we were going. The freight car transporting us was in bad shape. It was leaking water from the ceiling and everybody was being jostled about. My sister and I were concerned and decided to attempt to change cars. We opened the door leading out of the car and looked down at the narrow “walkway” before us. The walkway consisted of a couple of latches of metal holding our car to the car in front of us. The latches connected to make a sort of bridge. But the bridge was rocking and bumping and it was no wider than a few inches. After some deliberation, we concluded that it was a little too risky for us. We opted to stay in our freight car. Shortly after our deliberation the last freight car detached itself from the rest of the train and we came to a screeching halt. We were left with no adequate form of transportation. The rest of the dream was made up of inquiries by my mother as to how we could get out of the country, but no resolution was found.

It is said God speaks to us in our dreams, in the twilight hours as our eyes tremble beneath closed lids. At the time that I experienced this dream I had no idea what it meant. But now as I review it I think I have better insight.

I am not a risk-taker. In my opinion, it is wiser to choose the path that looks safe and reasonable. The narrow walkway leading us out of that freight car was not safe and reasonable; it would require faith, exceptional balance and probably divine intervention to cross. This is why my sister and I, who were so practical in my dream, decided it would be better to remain in the pitiful freight car. We knew that there was a very good chance that the crossing would result in death, or at least dismemberment. But after making that choice my journey came to a standstill. We never did get out of that place.

Perhaps there is some parallel here between the reality of my dream and the reality of my life. Maybe God is showing me the result of a risk not taken. He knows my tendency to play it safe. Perhaps he would like to show me a better way.

I wonder what we would have found in the next freight car...