Death IS The Real Problem

The unbelievable tragedy in Connecticut is wrong on many levels.  And on every level, with every issue there are sides to argue.  Most of us instinctively pick one.  We disagree, or at least we see the issues differently.  If you spend a few minutes on the internet, you will find wildly divergent perspectives, charged with intense emotion.  Interestingly, the conflict on these issues, especially when the issue is the main connection (rather than the relationship), rarely ends in resolution.  More often than not, it ends in greater anger, judgement and separation.  

How To Feel Jesus In Some Not-So-Simple Steps

It’s been a rough summer.  My allergies this year were weird.  I’ve had hay-fever since the summer of my fifteenth year - the year I worked at the Faulkenberg’s, stumbling under a five gallon pack of RoundUp and chopping thistles in the middle of yellow fields of hay.  My hay-fever normally manifests itself with watery, itchy eyes, violent sneezing and unexplainably large portions of uncontrollable mucus that end up spraying with the sneezes and nose blowing.  I’ve developed a skill with this that comes in handy during on runs and bike rides.  Plug a nostril, lean to the side while twisting my head and blow.  Usually snot is deposited where I intend. 

Why Don't We Heal Each Other

Why don’t we heal each other?  As my blog header says, I’m a failure.  While my failing has almost nothing to do with finances or position, the changes I’ve experienced are measurable in those ways.  I have less money and a lower position than I thought I would at 44.  I’m midlife, and typical midlife measurements say I am a failure.

I know, I know, it’ll get better, I shouldn’t worry, God is at work – and look at all the other failures I can minister to.  There is more to the story.  I’m not really being sarcastic.  At least within my sarcasm, I do acknowledge a different reality than what appears on the surface.  I get it.  It’s through the difficult times in life that we are humbled, learn to rely on God, grow in character, and stumble over the important truths we would never otherwise gain.  All that is most definitely true.  Seriously.

Ain't That Simple

It just ain’t that simple.  Life.  It’s complex.  Seriously, and I’m sorry about this, I know I often find some comfort in this effort, but - there really is no way to break life down into a few easy steps.  It’s not something we can wrap our brains around.  If I’m paying attention, really aware of all the different pieces of any experience, I can’t even wrap my head around one event.  In the end, even in the beginning, this is better.  Infinitely better.  Imagine if we really could understand – boredom would overwhelm us.

To illustrate complexity in a simple event, let’s take pounding a nail. 

Burn Barrel

His rescuer dragged 

blackened remnants

of last ditch effort 

to the barrel

and stood

with a charred stick

gripped absently.

She pushed down

and down again

into the heat

staring blank

and dry eyed

waiting

for the fire

to rebuild.

Good Things for a Bad Person?

It is a scary place, this spinning speck of dirt caught between the tide of heaven and hell.  When my imagination brings some meaning to the information my brain is collecting, I am so relieved to know I am saved from the terror.  It’s scary to know I am so close and it is so easy, so regular to end up drifting in ignorance, rebellion and abject stupidity into the abyss. 

I am at odds with my base desires when I soften to the strong, quiet affections of Jesus.  But, oh, it is a worthy effort to let go and rest in them.

Internal Combustion 2

This is a grave and dangerous game I’m playing.  Trying again, taking on a project with hope that it will be more than it appears on the surface.  I am playing with gas – the risk of excess and failure – while smoking a fat cigar.  I’ve done things like this before and gone too far.  I’ve done them wrong and gotten carried away.  It is my adopted nature to receive a vision and run too fast with it.  Take it outside the bounds of its original intention.  To make it more risky, I’m involving other people, their hearts and healing.  But I know it can be done well.  I keep getting visions.  I can see fleeting pictures of transformation in my head.  I am reckless with my hope.