"Journeying Realities": A Letter To A Friend

This blog entry is adapted from a letter to a friend from August 2012. He was going through some difficult road in several aspects of his life and I felt prompted to write him. I came across it today and thought I would change the names and pretty it up a little so that I could post it.

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Friend,

 

Thanks for sharing your “journeying realities” (the hard stuff) with me.

 

God has been seriously hitting me from all angles with this theme through two or three separate books and various preachers I have listened to in the past couple of weeks. I don’t know if any of this will help you or encourage you, but I have learned not to resist if I feel a prompting to write something. Just pass it off as, “Brian being a dork”, if what I am going to tell you doesn't find a home in your situation. Just take some time and process what I am saying and listen to it with your heart. Maybe this stuff is just new to me, and you have fully assimilated this already, or maybe this will be a good reminder.

 

My own situation is that I am becoming more and more calm about my own "journeying realities" as I realize that God is less concerned with making my life work, and much more concerned that my heart is inclined towards Him. This has not come easy to me by any means.

 

Here is the thing about marriage and all close relationships! Let’s use you as an example. Even as a child, your background of pain, in your spiritually dead state, made your sinful flesh ball up a tight little fist against God in some way and say, “I will not be hurt this way again!” This is when sin AGAINST you, was converted to sin IN you. The problem is that when we take that stance, whatever the specifics, it warps us and makes us vulnerable to more sin. Later, we bring that into a relationship with another flawed human with a balled up fist, and this is a recipe for perfection. By perfection I mean that God uses our relationships to perfect us through great suffering. He uses not only our romantic relationships, but also our children, our bosses, our parking attendant, and every other human being that we have the opportunity to have a personal conflict with.

 

I heard a definition of sanctification recently that I loved. It went something like this, “Sanctification is The painful process by which God extracts us from priorities and pleasures that we have placed above Him.” 

Primarily, we come face to face with our sins, failures, terrifying “journeying realities” and have a personal “Alamo moment”, which can last much longer than a moment. We come to the end of our ability to prop up the religious idea that “if I do good stuff that God likes, God will GIVE me good stuff back.” WE know this isn’t good theology, and we would never admit that we believe it…but our actions say we do. God knows just the right places to apply pressure to bring that terrible theology crashing down. 

When we really hit that point and get frustrated enough to jump off the lofty cliffs of our expectations of a good life, we find that the scarlet cord of “Knowing God” is more than strong enough to keep us from crashing into the rocks below. The ugly stuff we go through is designed to get us to finally jump and realize that He is all we need. We can quickly learn that we have been serving our selfish need to have “blessing” in our lives rather than serving the God who is allowing life to process us through sufferings, which probably won’t look anything like our ideal picture of blessing. 

This brings us crosswise to God’s purpose and puts us in the unenviable position of idolatry. It is hard to see sometimes, but in the wrong context, tending the things in our lives that could make our lives seem better can actually be a subtle but still heinous form of idolatry. Imagine Joseph devising an escape plan out of the prison, or creating an uprising among the prisoners against the warden. “Well,” he would say, “it seemed like the way out of an unfair situation!” But, sometimes the way out, isn’t God’s way. And God’s way is ALWAYS the better way, even if we don’t see the immediate results.

 

I am not talking negatively about bettering yourself, or looking for a different job, working on communication skills with your wife, or being a more caring and encouraging parent to your child. But, I am talking about any one of those things when they become “first things” instead of “second things”. If you humbly pray for things you need from God, but when he seems to be saying, “not now”, it ticks you off and you get offended, then you may ask yourself, “Is God highlighting a place inside me that needs to find rest in him and his over-arching plan for me? Am I just ticked off because I thought he was my ticket to the “cookie jar” of blessing?”

 

This is a stinging truth, and a difficult reality. But it is also the most lovely place of peace that can be found: when we can derive more pleasure from our relationship with God than we do with the stuff He blesses us with, we will find that when everything is stripped away, if everyone leaves us- if we have lost love, health, and cable T.V. - even in that dark place… something inside us isn’t destroyed. The light inside of us isn’t snuffed out. There is a pleasure in God that continues through it all. The truth is that, in Christ, something about us truly IS indestructible! A 747 could fall on your head, but if God didn't say it was time to come home, you would be just fine.

 

He has more blessings for us than we are prepared to ask for, but He will not put our souls in danger by giving us that which will destroy us. That is part of His goodness, and that is evidence of His great mercy. It is also a marvelous sign that you are His kid, and that He is a wonderful dad! 

Brian

Settling For Scraps?

One of the others in this alley found my stash, a carefully hidden plastic sandwich bag with pictures and notes from loved ones, which was carefully taped to the backside of a small electrical box. 

Anxiety... so many thoughts: upheaval, abandonment, fear, loss, betrayal. I felt the tide of anger coming in increasing waves. Did I have a choice but to lash out? I thought to myself, "What does my certain knowledge of some kind of beautiful future life do for me when that which is most cherished on this earth is taken away?" 

I froze...and then I slowly repeated aloud, "when that which is MOST cherished? Is taken away?" Had I really allowed the meager items that filled that bag to become cherished and relied upon more than the king who had saved me with His own blood? 

Words like thunder pealed across my sky, "Stop looking among those scraps! I have relieved you of them so that you will LOOK TO ME!"

Something like a warm whisper began to tease at my heart's periphery. It was like the warmth I felt as a young child eating my grandmas chicken gravy on a Sunday afternoon, the hearty laughter of my best friend sharing an exquisite moment of humor, loves sweetest and most solemn vow, the strong, and steadying embrace of my father, long-since passed. 

I have learned that for me, a sense of anxiety waves the red flag that there is most assuredly idolatry in my heart. Some woefully inadequate god is being asked to fulfill my deepest needs. My wounded soul hurts and tries to patch the holes. Even after all of this time, it is still my knee-jerk response to pain. I think I need a better version of me, or a somebody else. I search for some THING, or I strap my hopes to concentrated and wholly misguided religious effort.

Lord Jesus, please help me daily to remember that "It is finished!" None of my feeble efforts are required because the strong arms of my Savior have accomplished all that I never could.

(2 Corinthians 1:3-5)

A Question at the Core

Behold, the confidence and surety with which a child lifts his eyes and proclaims the answer to some mystery that befits the human mind at such a tender age. Where do frogs come from? Why does the truck make such a loud noise? Why do bees sting?

What right does the child have to think he holds the answers to such things? In this post-modern world where "reason" dominates, shouldn't some adult guide chastise him for imagining that he holds the answers to such things that are so far beyond him? Shouldn't someone sweep in with the "Origin of Species", charts of the modern diesel engine, or a naturalist guide to the defense mechanisms of plants and animals. 

Further, how dare he believe that there is enough coherence in the natural world to imagine that there would be a logical reason for anything?

How dare he grow to graduate through the stages of life, glory in the beauty and grace of his wife, and search through the night sky to find an answer to a question that is too deep to ask, sensing that there must be an answer. 

Why does the natural man have to be taught, using such ordered and well labeled arguments, that there are no coherent answers? Why must hope be expertly pulled from his grasping hands?

Without God, there is no coherence, no argument, no invention, no answers, no hope. There is no peg board with which to hang speech, thought or even the passage of time. 

Those that argue for the randomness of existence use borrowed language, borrowed reason and borrowed time.

We love that child for his searching heart, because it speaks of that unfathomable, greater mystery which beckons all of our searching hearts, and cannot honestly be denied. 

Ask yourself this:

Why is there a question at our core?

And if a question defines the human condition, might there be an answer? Could it be that we were designed to ask it?

Driven by Desire: Protection or Plums?

So, I have this crazy desire to do something...something kind of life-altering. It has to do with possibly going to school and taking on a pretty sizable challenge. I have tons of questions and thoughts about how I should or shouldn't approach this desire, but it comes down to: Will I or Won't I?

When you are rushing down a well-worn freeway that you have driven a thousand times, you aren't paying attention to the signs. You already know the exits, the speed-limits, the difficult sections of rough road. It all becomes so mundane and boring. I have even been surprised by the amusing "novelty" of finding myself to be following the same car, with the same goofy bumper sticker, on the same stretch of road, at the same time, on consecutive mornings. This lets me know, I am not alone in this daily grind... You have felt it too.

The only desire that I feel driving me forward in those moments is the desire to not get fired. It feels like I am primarily holding on to what I've got.

I know from first hand knowledge that those types of autopilot commutes are actually prime time for accidents to happen. It is the illusion of sameness and safety that lulls us into a faith in our own skills, an expectation (no matter how wrongly assumed) that our neighboring vehicles will keep the proper distance and that mechanical malfunctions will be safely dealt with on the side of the road, and not explosively... in the center lane.

Then the accident happens and you realize that cars are terrifyingly big and heavy when they can't be stopped, the physical laws of the universe are not always kind, and life is found to be utterly precious.

I was going to say next that pain will take the fight right out of a person, but I mean something different. Some people get more angry and spiteful when they experience pain, but I see this as a reaction to the terrible realization that suffering is something fully beyond their control. I think I've hit on what I mean right there: pain pulls back the veil and exposes a kind of "shameful" lack of actual control...over anything.

The way that the above illustrates the hardships, and tragedies that spring up during our lives is so obvious as to not warrant mentioning, but I did want to say one small thing about it. As we heal from the physical results of something like an accident, I think that it becomes a painfully present fact that although we can get the good doctor to set our broken bones and offer some comforting medication and braces to support us as we heal, the actual knitting together of broken bones and torn tissue is done completely outside of the realm of human intervention and is accomplished on a timetable all its own. Putting a broken leg into use before it is fully healed may serve the ego, or the ambition, or even to give us the approval of those close to us who may want us to, "get back at it'", but it will most likely result in chronic pain or worse - another painful break.

What I mean to write about in this post is not the sleepy commute punctuated by horrific calamity, pain and healing, but something different entirely. To relate it in similar terms, what I am talking about is akin to a person driving to an unknown destination based on a rumor and a desire.

You have a vacation day. One of those wonderful days off where you have no serious plans. You overhear a woman in line at a grocery store say, "I hear there is a farm with the most incredible plums out in the back roads of Washington County." 

You love plums! In fact at this moment you NEED plums! You get up the courage to risk looking like some sort of fruit stalker and you ask the stranger if she knows any more information about the location of these amazing plum trees. 

"Well, I don't remember the name of the place, but my friend was telling me that there was a big green sign out front. Sorry, that's all I know!"  

There are decisions to be made. The first half of the day had lazed along fairly well until that contentious argument with your neighbor, where you described in detail how to park one's car in the center of a stall rather than over into the adjoining spot. You secretly wonder why it bothered you so much, but it really did. Do you take the remaining hours of your precious day off and try to find this farm among all of the farms in a vast farming area? Or do you just go back into the grocery store and buy whatever hard, juice-less plum that they may have in stock and head back to the apartment? 

Was this day made for exploration, or was it made for comfort and ease? 

Were you made to run and chase the natural and pure desires of your heart, or were you made to watchfully guard the stuff you have already got? Will it be a waste of gas that could be spent in more productive ways. Will you lose your way? Does this farm really exist?

You can do all of the research possible, seek all of the advice you can get. You can employ GPS, Google, Facebook, and Yelp, but none of them are going to be of much help to you with your lack of information. So few people have actually been there before you, any information you might gain will be spotty at best. The small but persistent threads you have are: "Incredible Plums", Washington County, green sign, and an intense DESIRE.

What sort of person are you? What sort of God made you?

What are you going to do?

A Coupla Bums

I have a friend... It's true! 

Actually I have several, maybe not as many as you do, but they seem to be okay with me, even as quirky as I am, so I am not going to argue. Each one of my friends has been a particular blessing to me and has filled a very distinct place in my life. 

The friend I am talking about today is a very different kind of a friend. He appeared out of nowhere, I see him very infrequently, he is cantankerous and grumpy, he seems to have difficulty playing nice with others, he has incredible health issues that further keep him from being more of a regular friend, he has been hurt terribly and isn't so sure he really has the desire to be in community again. 

All of that said, when I have needed a lifeline, God has faithfully sent him to me on several occasions. I can’t even describe the kind of love that he has shown to me just by the careful way he has sifted through all of my rantings and found some kind of insight or encouragement for me. He has been voted "Most Likely to Understand Me", in all of the complexity of a life being lived, hopefully respectfully, in a sometimes sterilized and polished looking community of faith (at least on the surface) while absolute mayhem has broken loose in my life.

 

As I have gotten real and vulnerable, pouring out the bad, the worse and the ugly, he has been an amazing friend like one of the characters from one of my favorite books called, “The Cure” that says, “Yeah? Is that all you got?”

 

I don’t need or want him to be perfect or posture himself in a certain way, I just need to know that he is never going to tell me in word or in action (as is quite common to hear when the storms don't blow over as quickly as expected), “Brian, this is just too messy for me. You need to put a nicer face on this stuff. Aren’t you supposed to be better by now?”

 

My friend and I have traveled some similar roads and though we are very different personalities and he has a few years on me, there is a commonality in the way we wrestle, grapple and process the challenges we face. We have both tried to ascend to a place of religious knowledge and practice and been slammed back to earth. We are both, very admittedly and unapologetically, broken beyond all repair. Our best human hopes for our lives, seemingly shipwrecked.

 

If either of us idiots are ever going to be of any effect in this world it isn't going to come through what my friend calls “Victorious Christian Living” (with tongue firmly planted in cheek), it will be through the experience of great pain and the humble compassion we learn when we see what we are really made of (trust me, it ain't great). I am so glad that God has given me such friends!

 

As I lie next to my fellow bums, amidst the dented garbage cans and filth, I am awakened by a beautiful light, and the sweetest song I have ever heard. It moves my heart with a sense of the surest hope, security and comfort. I look up to the sky to catch a glimpse and it fills me with wonder and amazement. Tears stream down my face. I don’t want to appear crazy, because I almost can’t believe how wonderful it is, but I venture to ask if anyone else sees and hears it too.

 

One guy says, “Of course I do! That beer sign has been there for years!” 

Another says, “Charley has been singing the blues around the corner all night! He won’t shut UP!”

 

“No!” I say, “I don’t mean that! The other light! The other song! Don't you hear it?”, but they just figure I am having a crazy spell and roll back over.

 

I begin to doubt my own eyes, the light begins to fade, the song gets drowned out by Charley's lonesome musings. I try to calm myself and lie back down. 

Just then something catches my eye. Through the pale glow, another bum has his eyes wide open to the sky and I can see the tears glistening on his cheeks, just like mine. 

He looks over at me, and I give a knowing smile. He smiles right back and wipes the tears. 

I notice a handkerchief sling on his arm. "I am sorry 'bout the arm, man! You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, it hurts real bad. Not sure if it got set right.  But I got this feeling that no matter what happens here, we are gonna be alright!"

As we talk, we both notice that the light and the song comes flooding back, even stronger than before. With our face to the sky we feel a shared hope and a bond that will not easily be broken.

 

I guess it all just seems like some crazy dream unless us bums can stick together and share our experience of this amazing grace, with our hearts open, in the midst of the messed up brokenness of this alley.

A Seed With A Choice

I know this is probably painfully obvious, it is to me too, but somehow I have a new sense of immediacy as to why our flesh needs to die out:

 

1.       Whatever fleshly part of us continues to live, tries to justify its own existence and grasps onto this temporal life (ie. reputation, sexuality, children, finances, career, you name it).

 

2.       Whatever grasps onto this life, and works to prove it’s worth  (justification), keeps us from entering into God's rest.

 

As I am being installed into my place as a slave to Christ, my flesh has thrashed about like a wild animal who doesn’t fully realize he has been overwhelmingly captured. I have desperately tried to figure out what I might cling to from my old life…My God will have NONE of it.

 

I imagine a terrified street urchin being caged and carted to a palatial new home by a kind and caring benefactor who has adopted him. He is caged for his own protection because he has not fully accepted that this gift is for real. Even after having been given proof of his good fortune he still clings to his last moldy crust of bread. As compelling as the evidence to the contrary may be, something deep inside of him still believes it to be his only hope of survival.

 

Sometimes I feel as though I have been shaken like a rag doll and much of what I was holding onto has been mercifully released from my grasp (I think I have described it before as being “Slapped out of my hands”). I had to be compelled to let go of that old life and even grieved the loss (there is a deep grief even if it is only a partially eaten crust of bread, it represents survival) even as I am being released into a gloriously beautiful freedom. I know there is much more that I could let go of, but God is being very patient with me.

 

I think I understand today more than ever what Jesus means when he tells us:

 

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.” (John 12:24-26 esv)

 

I believe there is much evidence to suggest that the greatest world changers in Christian history (I mean the good ones) have wrestled with their faith, had their legs broken by Jesus’ in their own personal, terrifying, Sermon on the Mount, and rode atop Christ’s shoulders into those foggy, darkened margins just outside of what might be considered plausible, tidy, genteel, or reasonable. If we will go with Him where He leads, I am guessing His fiery sword (His Word) will provide just enough light for us to witness his majestic love at work, but not enough to allow us to get real comfortable. We get really stupid when we think we know the lay of the land, or when we start to feel our own strength again. 

I pray we will cling to Jesus ever... only.

Vanity!

In the very industry of conceiving, planning, choosing, creating, perfecting, and finally setting in place the idols that we so effortlessly turn our hearts toward, we distract ourselves from the deep sense of loneliness we all feel. When at last we are left in our quiet, candled cloister to enjoy what we have made, we discover that the pleasures of working, creating and loving, are only meaningless signposts written in gibberish if indeed there is no living, purposeful Divinity at the heart of our highest pursuits.