Ruminating the Obvious

Just when you think you have things figured out, a congealing of the thought processes, all puzzle pieces connected...or at least in cohesive piles...your mind is lead into unchartered territory...or at least areas you probably flew by in this journey of life.

But isn't it odd that we have chosen a "time" of worship and the appropriate manner in which to process that worship, a true blue agenda of the perfect amount of singing, praying, preaching and communing?

Isn't it odd that this program agenda is more important than consoling, praying with or listening to one who needs us?

Isn't it odd that what is allowable in one instance of Bible study is not allowed in others?

Isn't it odd that one of the most precious components of our worship, taking the Lord's Supper, is mostly one of few words, a hurried affair, taken for granted and passed through without feeling...just another point on our schedule for the morning "worship"?

Isn't it odd that we do not show with our voices, with our emotions, with outward appearance the reverence and awe due to the absolutely divine presence of God in our midst?

Isn't it odd that we do not see God in our midst? Does the brightness of our fluorescent lighting outshine the holiness of God?  

Isn't it odd that we cannot see or admit to our traditions?  Are we so set in our traditions that we are blind to all else?

Isn't it odd that we confine worship to a church building?

Isn't it odd that no one wonders these things...but me?

Hatred ~ Simply a Void of Love

Another senseless killing, families devastated, leaving a soul in jeopardy of eternal life...for what?  Fame?  Notoriety?  Revenge?  

Questionable state of mind is immediately voiced and commonly used to justify or plead.  We slink away from calling it simply and honestly - hatred and evil. 

Opportunities arise quickly and those whose hearts are led by the hatred and evil jump to proclaim revenge, to finish the job, to inflict more pain and loss.  

And my heart hurts.  Tears fall and the doubts arise that this world can ever be made peaceful and just in the eyes of God.  Doubts arise that our sinking sand can ever be shored to keep us from drowning from this pit of self-seeking, revenge-obsessed, black hole of distrust and prejudice and lack of agape love.

Where does one turn to when life is rearing an ugly head?  To the only source worth quoting:

“So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets."  Matthew 7:12  

We made this incident; we contributed to it in even the smallest ways. Directly or indirectly, we are responsible.  But God can use this for good.  Our part now is to love with the love of Christ, encourage with the strength of the hope within us, saturate our immediate surroundings with acceptance, prayer and deep desire to have peace towards one another and indwelling of the Spirit to want the best...above ourselves...for others.

Dear God, help us for you are strong and we are weak.  

The Mercy Seat

Once adept at finding the least of branches (the least offensive, the least to inflict pain), knowledge was apparent even then that the verdict was not the problem...but the sentencing and follow-through would be tear-stained!  Finding the most delicate, limber branch might soften the blows, become of no significance, really, and focusing on that find became a source of mercy in my mind.

The plan was flawed, of course, because parents can see through such devilish schemes and thwart the most inventive of childhood escapades.  The switching always hurt, remorse having settled in, and the motherly hug then encouraged me to higher heights of better behavior, resolving me to better obedience in the future.

Mom's hug was my mercy seat.  Confession was made, punishment was meted out, but love always followed...my misdeeds and discipline covered by her merciful love and compassion.  Her mercy seat was used in abundance by all my siblings, but more often than not, by me.

The ark of the covenant of the Lord held His mercy seat, this solid piece of purest gold covering sin, a place of propitiation, a place where justice and mercy would meet.  The cherubim knelt facing this mercy seat, wings spread, covering this Holy meeting place of God!

The mercy seat is coveted, even unaware.  The depths of our soul searches, the urge to please one higher than ourselves unrelenting, though somehow intuiting our unworthiness to dare approach. But Jesus says, "Come", and through Him we are strengthened and renewed!  

The mercy seat of my mother's arms no longer exist for me in this world. I have sought another and found it existed long before.  For my Father in heaven has the ultimate mercy seat, His throne of grace!   Come and approach His grace through His Son and be filled.

Exodus 25:10-22

   

Looking for God

The swirling mist envelopes, constantly changing yet obscure at every angle. Longing for vision, for clarity, the eyes are straining but cannot see.

The dream is liquid, like waves growing large with frothy ripples on the sand. Keeping my head barely aloof, my eyes grow gritty, burning with anxiety, searching and hoping.  

With eyes failing to see and senses not detecting, my spirit grows weak.  I am alone.  

Hopelessness is death.  Not the abrupt departure but lingering and devoid of light, it is torturous.

Hanging onto the speck of light barely discernible, the soul reaches out of the pit of pity, the heart quickens and while hope tries to rebirth itself from this despair, one is cautious because this one is aware of undeserving, worthless, failing existence.  

But the light grows steady, until burning with intensity, this soul finds itself on the brink of the grave, ready to step forward with new purpose and reality. Recognizing the futility of plans dashed, admitting the limits of abilities on solid ground, this light...this hope...washes one clean, clearing the vision and cleansing the heart.

Oh, no miraculous ending of burden here, nor the absence of culpability, but the light of hope becomes faith.  Faith that carries, uplifts, calms and grows and keeps pulling us out of the pits of life.  For though we stumble, yet God is faithful to provide because He...never...leaves.   

"Living a life of faith means never knowing where you are being led.  But it does mean loving and knowing the one who is leading.  It is literally a life of faith.  Not of understanding and reason - a life of knowing Him who calls us to go.  A life of faith is not a life of one glorious mountaintop experience after another, but is a life of day-in and day-out consistency; a life of walking without fainting."                                                                                                                ~ Oswald Chambers 

  

Shallowness Can Be Deadly

The mind is an enigma, a puzzle without end.  Used unconsciously, we are unaware of any drift until we arrive.  Quick to turn and bend, our efforts are constant, reaching for control and purpose.  Some, like an ostrich burrowing its head in sand, settle for unknowing until it forms an oasis...glimmering, indistinct yet mesmerizing in obscurity. 

“She avoids deep thought like an empty restaurant, not out of stupidity, but a canny resolve to be happy.”  ― Alex Shakar, Luminarium

Shallowness of thought invites the intrusion of thousands of twitter posts to whirl our days in the illusion of datable knowledge.  A scintillating glance, no more no less.  And like a tiny ship on tumultuous seas, our thoughts are bounced from side to side with no place to land.

"See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ."  (Colossians 2:8)

Breathing deep is reserved for medical purposes, for shallow breathing becomes our norm.  Effortless, painless and uncomplicated.

Shallow attitudes bring forth shallow conversation, birthing emotional damage and harmful relationships. Caring involves deep feeling, careful consideration of another, because love cannot survive in shallowness of heart.

Prayers are stifled by shallowness, useless in purpose and effect.  Time and thoughtful contemplation is required.   

"And yet, we all are tempted to embrace a false posture in prayer. Perhaps this false posture is sitting in our dustiness. Rather than relating to God from our acceptance in Christ, we try to self-generate righteousness to make Him love us. Maybe we don’t avoid our sin in prayer, but we sulk in it. We spend our time in prayer brooding, beating ourselves up, and trying to manage our dustiness. In effect, prayer becomes a place to commune with ourselves rather than with God. We search within for answers to the problems we uncover and continue to roll around in the dust over and over, thinking it will clean us off just like Dusty the chinchilla. Prayer becomes a place for self-talk, self-fixing, self-condemnation, and self-obsession."  (Jamin Goggin and Kyle Strobel, Beloved Dust) 

Life as a Christian can entertain no shallowness. The love of Christ, the faithfulness of God, the indwelling of the Spirit can no more be held down, suppressed or silenced!  For it is our purpose, our objective, obsessively pursued, nurtured and shouted that the ultimate sacrifice covers us all.  Christ must be shared in fullness, in prayerful attitude, in humility and in love. 

Lord, may we no longer attempt to keep You to ourselves, safe within the cocoon of the walls we've built for ourselves.  May our endeavors never be shallow but pure in spirit, impassioned with the zeal and wonder of one who forever holds your majesty and power in awe, in reverence and amazement!       

Mary, Did You?

As the days turned into weeks that grew into years, Mary, did you ever doubt the message first whispered?  Did you doubt you could be the Favored One, chosen to bear the very Son of God?  As the years passed, did you gaze at the man-child in your care and question a faulty memory, a distant promise, a sacred kingdom of no end? 

Mary, as you cared for him, did you know of the pain to come?  Did you cling ferociously, unwilling to surrender to the unbearable thought of losing a child, this child?  Did doubt ever flood your mind, concealing the covering of a faraway spirit and leaving you with a mere mortal you called your own? 

In the midst of anxiety and maddening chaos of missing a child, did you feel pride at finding yours in His Father's house, amazing the teachers with His understanding?  

Mary, did you ever, even once, forget He was who He was?

Did you recognize the first glint in His eyes of knowledge beyond our comprehension?  Did you simply see Him as your flesh or did His spirit transcend human form to your ordinary eyes?

As you treasured all things in your heart, did you comprehend the meaning of salvation through your son...or the degrading and horrific sacrifice which would bring it to fruition?  

Mary, did you truly know? 

One of my favorite renditions

My Tapestry

A soap opera junkie...me?  Off and on during my years, I have become enamored, sadly, to one soap or another.  My one and only left is Days of Our Lives.  I quickly became enmeshed in their lives, recording the episode to watch at night.  Impatient at times with the exaggerated slowness of events unfolding, the time came when I could ignore no longer the emptiness of their lives, the shallowness of their characters and the immoral fiber strung through each viewing.  As my husband so aptly put one night (sometimes he had to endure the episode while trying to sleep), "people are never happy on that show and they never work!"

At times, the producer of this show would recap - showing old footage and using clips that reminded you of who this or that person used to be, who they were married to, and what terrible storms they had weathered.  The characters usually remain true throughout, and past deeds convince you of his/her probable course in life.  Their lives are lived before you showing every color, every vibrant hue...and every dark thread.

It is the dark color, this deepening of void that attracts...recognizing the lure of forbidden while anticipating the reaction when faced with dire consequences.  It is this darkness that can compel, spellbind, delude, and slowly but eventually acclimate you to immorality.  

This darkness is not exclusive to soap operas.  From family members who relentlessly pursue the dangerous course of their lives, to fellow workers indulging in the drugs of life to fill empty hours and shallow desires.  From T.V. shows to reality, the present culture weaves its treacherous whims as destiny...a pattern we can mimic or reject, pursue or turn from.  

But then the episode ends, the deceit revealed, and the end in sight...unless the writer of their lives invents a new thread.

There are threads woven in my life that I had rather pull out, discard...pretend it didn't exist.  But pretending is only that, and I am faced with the life of me, dotted with ill-chosen threads, this tapestry of life that is bound to my being, ultimately shaped to His good! 

The thread woven in me is encased in a mercy quite beyond my comprehension. Despite my unworthiness, there is a Master Weaver who blots out my transgressions and turns my life of threads into a soul devoted to Him, thankful for His grace and His faithfulness.  Thank you, Jehovah God, for your mercy and grace, for the sacrifice of Your Son.  May your glory shine through each of us, reflecting your love!

The Tapestry

A missionary was traveling in the Far East
 when he came across a booth in a market place
It was a tapestry maker’s booth.
As he walked by he saw a strange sight. 
There appeared in the tapestry almost by magic , 
and the missionary asked his guide for an explanation. 

“The man you see,” said the guide, “Is a master weaver. 
He is speaking to his apprentice 
behind the loom telling him what color thread to use and where to put it.
 Only the weaver knows the entire design, so it is vital that the apprentice do 
exactly as the master commands.” 

“Does the apprentice ever make a mistake?’ asked the missionary. 

“Of course. But the weaver is a very kind man in this case and
 he will rarely have the boy take out the thread.
 Instead, being a great artist, he simply works the mistake in the design.”