Looking Back to Look Forward

(Carrion Comfort)

Not, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist—slack they may be—these last strands of man
In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.

But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me
Thy wring-earth right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan
With darksome devouring eyes my bruised bones? and fan,
O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee?

Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear.
Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,
Hand rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, cheer.

Cheer whóm though? The héro whose héaven-handling flúng me, fóot tród
Me? or mé that fóught him? O whích one? is it eách one? That night, that year
Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God.

~ Gerard Manley Hopkins

* * *
December: Three

This weariness of mine, may it not come
From something that doth need no setting right?
Shall fruit be blamed if it hang wearily
A day before it perfected drop plumb
To the sad earth from its nursing tree?
Ripeness must always come with loss of might,
The weary evening fall before the resting night.

~ George MacDonald

* * *
.sustaineD

I am the
Widow’s jar
Holding only
Enough oil
For one
More
Morn
But
When
You
Pour me
Out the oil continues
Flowing in unending stream of praises

~ n4m 9/22/08

More Than Gravy and Cranberry Glop

We’re rapidly approaching the day set aside for reflection. In the spirit of worship this Thanksgiving, here are a few of the things I find myself thanking the Lord for right now:

• The basics: food…shelter…sleep…clothing…prayer…hugs…chocolate…bubbles. Because when I stop to think about it, these “basics” are not-so-basic for many people.
• Quote boards! And the witty, delightful people who help fill them.
• I have a job I strongly dislike, but through which the Lord blesses me richly. The often-painful manual labor reminds me not to complain, and also affords me plenty of time to pray and worship. The inconsistent hours cause me to lean heavily upon His provision. The negative atmosphere forces me to consciously strive to give my best, and be optimistic. Isn’t it wonderful that His ways are not our ways!
• A mother who walks with the Lord; there’s really no higher compliment to bestow.
• The rare occasions on which I have a full-blown sneeze! (instead of a small, mouse-like one)
• The imminent arrival of another lovely winter of SNOW!!!!
• Accidentally winning a scholarship for drawing/painting lessons in middle school (and yes, it really was rather accidental)—resulting in my younger sister, who has the real talent, also taking lessons. I’m thrilled that the Lord used something so random to encourage her incredible gifts as an artist! The work she produces today is zany and breath-taking, and such a testimony to her relationship with the Lord.
• Lots of “firsts”: first year with a bachelor’s degree…first car…first college loans coming due…first ten mouse carcass removals…first time being asked out, and first date (now that was an interesting experience, let me tell ya)
• Verbal sparring matches. And the slightly imbalanced people who make it possible to have them.
• A best friend, whose strengths highlight my weaknesses, with whom I share the same personality type although we’re very different, and who is often mistaken for my sister (even my twin!) but is in fact the prettier lady by far. She is brilliant, loving, generous in so many ways, thoughtful, bold, and very wise. The best mixture of sweet and salty. It’s an honor to know you, babe!
• Three little sisters—biological and adopted—who continually challenge and bless me. Personifications of the Lord’s fragrance. I love you, dear ones!
• Numerous friends younger and older than myself, through whom the Lord calls me into greater righteousness and surrender, and who somehow manage to believe I have something positive and intelligent to offer. You all humble me. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of learning from you, of sharing your thoughts and hearts.
• Striking up conversations with total strangers…and the interesting results thereof!
• I’m grateful that my parents’ genes have resulted in wild hair, cute ears, and nose hairs that don’t stick out.
• For being allowed such a privilege as to walk in relationship and learn from “Him who holds the seven stars in His right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands.…who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again.…who has the sharp, double-edged sword.…the Son of God, whose eyes are like blazing fire and whose feet are like burnished bronze.…who has the sevenfold Spirit of God and the seven stars.…HaKadosh [the Holy One, I AM], the True One, who has the key of David, who, if He opens something, no one else can shut it, and if He closes something, no one else can open it.…the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the Ruler of God’s creation.” (Revelation 2:1, 8, 12, 18; 3:1, 7, 14)
• My mother’s ability to beat me, the “walking dictionary,” at Scrabble (every. single. time.)
• Whether or not tryptophan really induces drowsiness, I appreciate the psychological manifestation: Thanksgiving Day naps!!!

~ ~ ~

So what praises are you offering up to the Lord, dear reader?

That Which the Locust Has Eaten

~The Emporer’s Old Clothes—Part C~

So there I stood: rebelliously freed from my old garment with no replacement garments in sight.

My dear reader, hopefully you are seeking the Lord faithfully enough that He has confronted you with the Truth about some area of your life. If so, I’m sure you can relate to my dilemma in that moment of Truth: realization brought the strong temptation to panic. Instead of waiting quietly before the One who obviously had everything under control, the One who had revealed this lie to me in the first place—instead of asking, “Lord, now that you’ve shown me the Truth, what should I do about this garment? How do you want to fix my problem?”—instead of keeping my eyes and mind focused upon Him, I gave in to the frantic wish to be free of my robe immediately. I had not waited for the Lord, had not sought His solution.

Because of my own haste, I was naked. Completely exposed.

The Lord’s second “knot jerking” session—a far more extensive operation than bringing me to salvation—was under way.

I did not possess the capability of creating my own ideal. I had no concept of how to look like, act like, or dress like “Me.” I discovered that I did not know how to have an opinion; in fact, I did not really know how to think for myself. But I had long believed that I should not ask for help—I would only be a burden, an annoyance. So I could not reason or develop my own thoughts…but would not make any requests of classmates or professors to teach me how. Clearly, this was a recipe for disaster. And because of my own panic, I was still emotionally naked: I had no identity.

So, did I cry out to the Lord, admitting my inability to handle the situation? No. As I mentioned before, I had long believed that I should not burden another with my problems or apparent failure to measure up. Jesus, my Savior and Lord, was not exempt from my prideful fear of being a bother. How arrogant and blind can my human heart possibly be?

Fermatas, Caesuras, and Codas in the Score of Father's Time

Only three or four blank pages remain at the end of my current journal. The frequency of my entries has lessened in the last few months—trying to save open space for the “really important” events and ponderings. It will be difficult to say goodbye and move on to a new set of bound, blank pages. This journal has absorbed so many changing experiences with me. I wrote the very first entry on August 1, 2006, in the summer following my junior year of college. (For some of you, dear readers, the significance of that summer is not yet clear, since we have yet to reach that point in my testimony. In many ways, that summer marked a turning point. It was a time of tremendous growth, and also a respite—storing up strength—before the next gathering storm crashed down on my world.)

I’ve decided to share a few entries from that first year; we can walk down memory lane together.

• 8/1/06—Dear Father, thank you for prompting me to read Psalm 139 again this morning. (Thank you, Holy Spirit, for beginning to show me how to pray through scripture! Please continue the work you’ve begun in me.)
• 8/7/06—God, I’m scared and tired and worried. At the same time that I’m delighted to obey you, I doubt myself. I want to follow you, to be a faithful handmaiden…but that house is the last place I’d go of my own accord. Please rescue me from my frailty and doubt! Save me from myself and lead me down the path of righteousness for the sake of your name!
• 8/17/06—[I don’t believe this was addressed to anyone specific at the time it was written] Describing my relationship with God for you would be like describing a sunset to a blind person or trying to recreate a symphony for someone who was born deaf: there simply aren’t words. A relationship with the Perfect Father, with the Only Savior, must be experienced to be understood. [cont. 8/30] It’s a knowledge that runs through my marrow, a knowledge that becomes the core of my being: I AM LOVED. In spite of who I am; because of who I am. I am loved—forgiven, purified, and cherished. He’s offering that love to you, too. God wants to show you a love more constant and pure than any you will ever receive from a friend, a lover, or a father. It’s not about rules, or appearances, or control. This relationship is about relinquishing our broken selves to the one and only Creator, and receiving from him all that [we] can become.
• 8/30/06—There are two ways to deal with the “threat” of God: 1)Run in the opposite direction—eschew him; 2)Walk around him—acknowledge him as the holder of your “Life Insurance Policy” and the one to complain to when times get tough; get a “feel” for God and continue on your way; [cont. 11/19] 3)Take up arms and battle your life away
• 10/24/06—Thank you for clarifying the true nature of compliments for me! It never occurred to me that, as your child, a compliment to me is really a compliment to you!
• 12/20/06—Save me from myself, Father! Today when I caught myself questioning if perhaps I was really at fault—if I was in fact “on my high horse”—I realized just how worn out I’ve become. Mon Dieu! Sauvez-moi! You alone are my strength.
• 1/27/07—Adonai-Tzva’ot please teach me “tzav la-tzav; kav la-kav; z’eir sham, z’eir sham (precept by precept; line by line; a little here, a little there)” Isaiah 28:10….Father, I’m still controlling and manipulative sometimes; I abhor it!!! Take this from me, please. “Hope drawn-out wearies the heart” and brings about destruction. Isaiah 43; Psalm 56:9. Oh my Love, you have brought me so far! Please continue to deliver me from my bondages. Please liberate me from any...baggage I’m unknowingly carrying. Jeremiah 33:3
• 1/29/07—The cry of my heart this morning: My Lord, please fill me with your beauty and wisdom; I want to be an adornment for your temple—for your throne room. I long to hear you say, “Oh, look how this one sparkles and shines!” I want to be all that is wise and beautiful, so that I may bring great honor to you, my Love.
• 2/10/07—“The only appropriate war rhetoric is war rhetoric that calls our enemies spirits, and people with flesh the victims of this war….If we could muster a portion of the patriotism we feel toward our earthly nations into a patriotism and bravery in concert with the kingdom of God, the enemy would take fewer casualties to be sure” (Miller, Donald; Searching for God Knows What, pg. 88).
• 2/17/07—“Jesus did not lend Himself to war causes, to tax issues or political campaigns….to raising money for education or stumping for affirmative action. It was as if he did not trust us to build a utopia….’Follow me,’ He said. ‘I have no opinion about what color the paint should be in this prison. Follow Me.’” (Miller; Searching…, pg 194).
• 2/27/07—[a.m.] My Lord, thank you for helping me to love Becky and myself with your own pure love. When she climbed into bed with me Friday, crying and hurt, you gave me wisdom, Holy Spirit—wisdom and the urgent desire to relinquish our plans to you. Last night (Monday) you gave me insight as to how I’ve been hurting her, and gave me the words to begin healing [our relationship]….Holy Spirit, please continue to work in me.
• 3/1/07—Father, right now my head is swimming; there are so many things you’re showing me right now about yourself, about me, about others, and about life. Please speak to me—please make sense of it all.
• [undated poem]—“Wrap your arms ‘round me/ and dance on my feet/ I delight in your laughter/ my daughter so sweet/ Let me enfold you/ come dance on my feet/ Just smile through your tears/ feel my healing so sweet/ You hold me tight and/ let me dance on Your feet/ the heavens rejoice/ in your glory so sweet/ You give me joy/ make my whole life complete/ My Father, my Savior and King
• 4/19/07—My Lord, I know you love me: 1)in the context of a master whose servant desires to glorify him; 2)in the context of a long-distance lover whose beloved is purifying herself for him; 3)as a potter who perfects his vessel by re-sculpting, and by fire. But I just can’t wrap my mind around your love as my Abba—that you desire to lavish me with blessings. I can’t internalize the idea that you don’t desire to give me a boy who’s “not too bad;” you desire to bless me with a Man who is healthy, who hungers after you! It’s beyond imagining!
• 5/12/07—Abba, I want to desire to allure those I encounter to know more of your heart. You desire—and deserve—to be sought.
• 6/25/07—My Lord, I long to be fully and completely yours. Please fill me to overflowing with your spirit. Holy Spirit, bring all your power to bear in me: your mercy, justice, faith, joy, truth, love, righteousness, healing, prophecy… I want as much of you as possible. I want you to be glorified by my every breath.
• 7/2/07—Abba, it’s times like yesterday—when I was offered money in exchange for receiving oral sex—that I really struggle against the lie that I’m only desirable to scum, that $20 is all I’m worth. Help me hold fast to the truth: I am priceless in your eyes. Holy Spirit please keep me from self-pity and despair. In your love, I am complete; I lack nothing.
• 7/17/07—Abba, all I can do is choose you each and every day. But that’s all it takes, isn’t it? Thank you for holding me tight yesterday. Between what Dad did and did not say…I wouldn’t have made it without you. “He likened you to Absalom.” That’s what Mom told me last night—Dad sees me as Absalom. He sees me as trying to “steal the hearts” of his family and friends. Abba, please wipe away the tears bleeding from my heart. “God, how I prize your thoughts! How many of them there are! If I count them, there are more than grains of sand; if I finish the count, I am still with you” (Psalm 139:17-18).
• 8/14/07—“Those ransomed by Adonai will return and come with singing to Tziyon; on their heads will be everlasting joy. They will acquire gladness and joy, while sorrow and sighing will flee. ‘I, yes I, am the one who comforts you! Why are you afraid of a man, who must die; of a human being, who will wither like grass? You have forgotten Adonai, your maker, who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth. Instead you are in constant fear all day because of the oppressor’s rage, as he prepares to destroy. But where is the oppressor’s rage? The captive will soon be set free; he will not die and go down to Sh’ol; on the contrary, his food supply will be secure. For I am Adonai your God, who stirs up the sea, who makes its waves roar—Adonai-Tzva’ot is my name. I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand, in order to plant the skies [anew], lay the foundations of the earth [anew] and say to Tziyon, “You are my people.”’” Isaiah 51:11-16

It’s bittersweet for me to look back and see what has or has not changed. The quotations still reverberate in my heart. Some of my more specific prayers from that period of time (not shared here, for the sake of individuals’ privacy) have been answered; several of them, quite powerfully. All of the prayers included above are yet on my lips—prayed all the more fervently now, because as I move forward I gain a better view of how very distant I am from the goal. Yet here and there I catch the clear notes of progress. And these honey-sweet tones of growth swell, as deepening chords well up from my heart and ring forth: a hallel of honor, worship, and awe; a maskil of repentance, of lessons partially learned, and of longing for the finish line…for home.

Good Shadows

A friend of mine once posed the question: “Do you think there will be shadows in Heaven?” Light and darkness are such clear-cut metaphors of Good and Evil. Can God, as the source of light, redeem physical darkness? Could there possibly be “good shadows” in Heaven?

I recall my friend’s question every now and then as I explore scripture. Particularly any passage that describes us being protected in the shadow of God’s wings (Ps. 17:8; 36:7; 57:1; 63:7).

What does it mean to be in the shadow of God’s wing? What would a good shadow look like?

I think it would look a great deal like Moses jammed in the cleft of a rock with God’s hand blocking shut the rift, while the Lord’s glory passed by (Ex. 33:17-23; 34:5-7). When we beg God to draw near and show us His glory, and it feels as though He increases the distance. When we long to behold the light of His presence, and He seems to give us darkness instead. These are good shadows. The shadows of God's wing: Someplace small…constrained. Someplace with no detectable updraft; someplace in which we are seemingly alone, shut away from the wind currents of the Holy Spirit.

Someplace protected.

I would like to think that there will be good shadows when we reach Heaven—if only to testify that God’s creation in its entirety is Good. We can not yet know what sights await us there. But I am absolutely certain that good shadows exist in this present life. Moses would not have survived the sight of the Lord’s face. A brief glimpse of His receding glory and the whispered utterance of His holy name was enough to leave Moses glowing like molten metal. We are not yet ready to navigate the unbridled winds of His spirit. The force of such wild currents would crush us. So God protects us. He carefully instills the strength and humility to withstand his intense presence and pure name; He gradually prepares us for the true glories of soaring in His updrafts.

And all the while He guards us in the dark stillness underneath His wing.

Introspection

Jesus, I thank You that "You prepare a table for me, even as my enemies watch; you anoint my head with oil from an overflowing cup." Do I trust you enough to sit down and eat--to enjoy and be satisfied? Do I have enough faith in your protection to surrender fully to your anointing?

Thank you for your patience, faithfulness, and grace, my Lord!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWgeUrD4MHI

~ ~ ~
Everything falls into place when I look toward You, my Lord. You are Good and Perfect, Holy, Righteous, and Beautiful. I will sit down and eat; I will be satisfied by your abundance...in the midst of all that seeks to destort and destroy. I will submit to your anointing; I will surrender the mistaken instinct to protect myself, and the false notion that failure is inevitable.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7elxC8LXfzE

That Which the Locust Has Eaten

~The Emperor’s Old Clothes—Part B~

It’s abuse.

“Abuse. Abuse? Th-that’s just not possible. My parents didn’t beat me, didn’t even hit me beyond proper spankings. Dad never touched me in anger or in lust. I have not been abused.”

Is abuse only physical? Baby, you know better than that.

“But I come from a Christian home, with Christian parents. Granted, I recall seeing Dad read his Bible on only three occasions…and he didn’t partake of church from the time I was six until sometime after my fifteenth birthday. And yes, apparently a Christian husband doesn’t usually convince his wife to stop attending Bible study and women’s group—insisting that her time with the Lord is an idol—complaining that it takes her attention away from himself. Just because I can’t remember him praying with me at any time except his standard supper and bedtime prayers…just because he never had any interest in Mom’s repeated requests for a time of family prayer and devotions…that doesn’t mean anything. Right? Right, Lord?”

Will you listen to my Truth, darling?

Tremors filled me. “But it can’t be true. It just can’t.”

And why is that?

“Because…” My stomach clenched and I released a long, shuddering breath. The words came only in a trembling whisper, “Because…it would mean that what I’ve believed about my life, my family, for eighteen years has been—…”

Has been what?

“Oh God, please! Can we change the subject?”

Has been what, dear one?

“Please…I can’t look at this. Please, don’t make me look at this.”

Oh darling, is life apart from my Truth really Life? Trust me. I am more than sufficient; walk into my Light.

One shaky breath. And another. And then: “…what I’ve believed about my life, my family, for eighteen years has been a…lie.”

As the words left my mouth, they hit the cold air of Truth and solidified into a nimbus of frozen crystals that fell, painfully refreshing against my skin. “Oh, God. It’s been a lie.”

Relief. And Fury. I alternately gulped in cold, heady breaths of each. I looked down at the restricting garment I had worn for eighteen years. It was comprised of lies. And it was thoroughly repulsive to me. I had long struggled in this garment—the robe which bore none of my own personality. So to suddenly breathe in the Truth that my robe was a lie…

I acted hastily. I was sickened to acknowledge that I had carried such an unnecessary weight for years; I felt justified in seeking relief immediately. I would not wear the ideal of someone else! I should be able to dress myself; and that’s exactly what I would do! I didn’t wait to ask the Lord what He wanted to do with my garment—I didn’t bother to ask about His plans. I wanted nothing to do with that robe! In desperate anger, I tore it off and flung it behind me.

For the first time, I discovered that I had the freedom to make and wear my own clothes. More than that, based upon the input of my new friends and classmates, I was expected to dress as myself. So I tore my way out of my father’s garment and declared myself “free.”

But…did I have any concept of how to go about creating my own clothing? No. Absolutely not. I suddenly discovered that I had nothing to wear but the now-discarded robe my father put on me so long ago. So there I stood, with no replacement garments in sight.

I was naked. Completely exposed.

[to be continued in Part C]