Slumber's Wake

Sleep is one of those things I struggle with regularly... yes, sleep. Many think sleep comes so naturally and offers fond sentiments of rejuvenation. To these people, sleep is nothing short of a "happy place" and a blissful state of being. Others of us are not so lucky. Vivid dreams, some even traumatic, keep slumber at bay. Waking with nervous jitters or a sore jaw from grinding teeth through a bad dream does not lend to a conclusion that a night offered sound, peaceful rest. And then there is reliving the dreams during waking hours and hoping the clarity does not determine its reality. These nights mar sleep into opposition, keeping rest at arms length. It's willing to stay awake in an effort to avoid that which haunts unconsciousness. Thankfully this is not a nightly experience but the effects of one tumultuous night will last for many days, thus leaving behind hesitancy and strong reservations come bedtime. Praying often helps as well as basking in goodness via praise, but undoubtedly I am human allowing footholds for satan to tempt me with bedtime timidity. Dreams, so strangely captivating they can be. Here is something that speaks of the predicament more concisely.

DREAMS

Dreams blow upon me as reality,

Dancing through my mind.

Some sweet as honey,

Others painful as the hive.

Sweeping through the night

Leaving no trace behind,

But dare I not forget,

That which leaves me terrified.

Falling asleep...

Where will it lead this night?

Shall I doze or sleep deeply?

What comes before sunlight?

Sweet bliss fall upon me.

Fear nothing but Him on high.

Fall unto the promises,

Resting soundly this night.

-kmhr

To sweet dreams and plentiful sleep...

Simplicity of Straying

Many times it's easy to put thoughts in complete sentences, but other times, a lyrical format seems more fitting. The below is one of the latter. While simple in structure and word, the meaning goes more deeply to a soul... my soul. It's a place of struggle on a figurative see-saw: live a life of faith vs live a life of man. We cannot have both, but yet many of us fight to dabble in that which we do not relinquish hold. We know the graciousness of our Father and we sense His presence. We know the sacrificial and abundant love and we yearn to know Him more fully... BUT, humanity pulls on us as control, pride, greed, the unknown, or whatever the albatross may be keeps us glancing over our shoulders. This came from me catching myself in one of those backward glimpses, dancing around temptations to do things on my own and in my own way. It's not fancy, but rather it states the simplicity of how easily we are all subject to straying when we do not daily align ourselves with His good and perfect will...

What is it I see?

These thoughts flutter like wild.

Like the rapids in the mountains,

Or the fires on a countryside.

Is it beauty or chaos?

What frame of mind do I possess?

Thank the Lord for deliverance?

Or pray to get out of the mess?

Where do I stand?

Where do I run?

When the hope seems to call out,

Is it a shadow or the Sun?

How did I get here?

Confusion's thick as smog.

Where is clarity,

When I've known You so long?

Where do I stand, Lord?

Where do I run?

I thought I would skip this.

Here? Never, not me.

I worked to avoid it.

But it wasn't on my knees.

Martha, not Mary...

Describes me perfectly.

So tied up in details,

And I wonder why I can't see?

Where do I stand?

Where do I run?

When the hope seems to call out,

Is it a shadow or the Sun?

How did I get here?

Confusion's thick as smog.

Where is clarity,

When I've known You so long?

Where do I stand, Lord?

Where do I run?

Lost in the concrete,

I forgot what I do not see.

Pass on day by day.

Perfection is the key.

Words of a prophet,

Actions show fall of man.

To get back to You,

I must kneel, not stand.

Where do I stand, Lord?

Where do I run?

How can it be

I've lost sight of the Son?

Your Word makes a promise.

Help me believe.

Bring me back, Lord.
I'm here on my knees.

Here I am, Lord.

Take me back, I plea.

It's all for you, Lord.

For you, I stand.

Secrecy - a hound of humanity

Not long ago, I found myself contemplating the difference between "privacy" and "secrecy." Two terms that many deem synonymous yet I beg to differ. Of course if drawn out in conversation, people will make a distinction, but in general lingo... not so much. Many might say this is not a big deal, but again, I would differ. Minimized "secrecy" superficially maximizes the foothold for the one who works in secrecy. With this being said, I do not think any person should "air dirty laundry" for public display or knowledge. However, I do firmly believe there is a need for individual realness. As images of God, we are to love, to care, to be vulnerable...

We are called to come along those struggling and empathize.

We are called to bear our burdens so others may join with a righteous power in prayer.

We are called to acknowledge our weaknesses so our new nature may overcome that which the old self could not "put to death."

We are called to live openly in community.

So, how is this possible if under layers of self presentation lies multiple layers of secrets? Privacy is being guarded and discerning about who knows what and to what extent. Secrecy is the concealing of that which needs to be hidden. Hidden? Really? Where is the transparency in that?? Then I would ask myself, if no one knows about the "secret," is it something I am taking to God? If not, there is a problem.

Usually confined in shadows, secrets manifest into more than a concept of struggle; again, they become a foothold for satan. There is no Light to cast out the darkness, thus the maligned nature broods. Secrets in our lives mimic lies, attacking our conscience and until we repent and let it all down, something in us - call it carnal paranoia - begins the perpetual cycle of "saving face." Oddly and justly enough, this very path only widens the chasm we must cross to get back to fruitful living, a self-made valley of despair dug one secret and one lie at a time.

Raw & Broken

In the midst of sensing the depth of this valley, I also feel a presence not my own leading to questions. How can it be? How did it come to this? When did I "jump ship" or more accurately described, go scuba diving without any gear? When did isolation and concern of this tiny "my world" bubble become the primary source of concern? Spiritual fervor, whatever happened to such a notion? And then, there it is.

Coming from a place of brokenness and sheer disbelief, I realize this 'state of being' is not all that foreign to my life, but rather the 'state of perspective' given by the Holy Spirit is changing my understanding of "me." It's giving me a new, more precise, focus within my journey. It's a vision of how my own vices have trembled my core being. It shows that my identity in Christ which I supposedly clung to daily has been the very one I forsake. It's a vision of how worldliness has blocked the ultimate view. It's a vision of shackles and pain to which my pride clings for the fear my facade may be revealed. I'm seeing in a different light and while the view is still unclear, the blinders have been pushed aside. Now I must choose... pull those blinders back up to protect the shame, the guilt, the pride or tear them down and move in a direction which requires complete trust in the true Comforter and Healer. Sounds simple enough, but anyone who has been here knows the turmoil, the warfare. Protecting what is habitual comes so naturally. Persevering for that which can be so abstract, it goes against our nature... the nature I desperately long to shed.

My heart is heavy. It hurts. What am I doing for the glorification of Christ? How am I serving in an effort to show His love? What do I sacrificially give in an effort to be more like Christ? Why timidity? Where is my faith? "Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever." (Romans 13:8) This I KNOW to be true but do I LIVE it to be true? When my answer comes out as... "it depends on the day," I am not dying to self. I have not shed the old nature. My heart is heavy. It hurts.

I recently was blessed tremendously by a song from Addison Road called "What Do I Know of Holy." It speaks so clearly into my thoughts, my emotions. I weep to know my idea of "Holy" has been crammed into a finite definition that I can grasp. I weep to know my reliance on a God so gracious and merciful has been limited by my short patience. And I weep to know my perseverance and pursuit of Christ equates to mere moments in a day (and embarrassingly enough - I might even be able to say weeks during the rough times). How gut wrenching to realize the very One I say I adore, I push away to keep from facing the very things I despise. What is it about guilt and shame? The choke chain of human effort. I cannot do this alone, I know. So very humiliating one might say, including the carnal me, but I would rather be able to say... so very humbling.

"I think I made you too small. I never feared you at all, no. If you touched my face, would I know you? Looked into my eyes, could I behold you?"

These lyrics stir the sense of my own betrayal, my own shortsightedness. Judas, anyone? When have I released myself, my life, to the control of God? When have I believed that I am who HE says I am? Yes, my "God box" is entirely too small. Compartmentalized in any degree is too small. This would also indicate my lack of fear of the Lord. I do not think God is all fire and fury, but I do believe Him to be just. And then to think of the very hands that took the nails on the cross for my sins... those very hands touching my face? To envision Christ on the cross and me kneeling before Him as he made that exchange... His spotlessness for my dripping stains... this, dear friends, is an image that breaks my willfulness. And to go even further and think of His piercing eyes looking into mine. To catch a glimpse of such a beautiful soul, one so selfless and obedient to God. What treasure can the world provide... what eternal treasure, I should say... that even compares? Absolutely nothing. I long to feel His touch upon my face and gaze upon His splendor. Why does my life not reflect these desires? I have no valid excuse... absolutely nothing.

"What do I know of you who spoke me into motion? Where have I even stood but the shore along your ocean? Are you fire or are you fury? Are you sacred? Are you beautiful? What I know... what do I know of holy?"

My pursuit, my desires - one in the same they ought to be. First... humility.

A recent devotional directed my thoughts in a path that comes about quite readily, but like many things, the topic lingers as long as a few breaths and the first distraction. But not this time. It's a strange phenomenon to me how sometimes phraseology can impact receptivity so immensely, even when the content is 'of old.' Anyway, this devotional brought back a message representing a common theme in the life of a Christian, but one that truly creates quite the stumbling block for many - character. Here is excerpt...

"My vision of God is dependent upon the condition of my character. My character determines whether or not truth can even be revealed to me... there must be something in my character that conforms to the likeness of God. Until I am born again and really begin to see the kingdom of God, I only see from the perspective of my own biases."

This led me to the following questions.

1. How is my character?

2. How is my character conforming to the likeness of God?

3. How is my character conforming to the likeness of God and how is this affecting my pursuit of knowing more about the character of Christ?

4. In what ways do I allow society to affect, or even build, my character?

5. Does my 'character' look the same to all whom I meet or am I putting out there several "characters" to fit in, find approval, etc.?

Character is truly something that can be so difficult, but I cling Romans 5 as it speaks to the perseverance that builds character and in that we may have hope. What a wonderful notion. That in our pursuing of our Savior, we are comforted by the hope that our home awaits our arrival. To become more Christ-like, we develop a greater understanding of our Sovereign Lord. We more fully understand the depth of meaning in HIS mercy, and grace... and we may more fully accept and bask in the greatness of HIS love. We may be enamored by the one true love...

not bitter, yet not all sweet...

...happy and sad... Father's Day, that is. Who knew?

It is a day for acknowledging special men in our lives. It embraces those in our midst and how they fill an invaluable role. The day honors these men, their efforts, their stewardship of provisions and their care for those whom they are responsible. Yet for many, it is so much more. I feel I may not be alone when expressing that Father's Day may come with fondness but with it, a reserved store of excess emotion, that which lends to grief and sorrow.

Today was a reminder of those who have passed. The memory of loved ones. It commemorates those whose impressions upon our lives remain. While it has been over a year, I still hear the voice of a loving grandfather who was much like a father to me. He was gentle and compassionate, honest and loyal. A man of integrity and quite protective of the meaning of family, my grandfather's memory will forever be fresh on Father's Day. I grieve his absence and will never forget to honor him on this day.

Today was a reminder of that which has yet to come. A desire unfulfilled. A longing to see an amazing husband have the joy of children in his midst. To have him hear the word "Daddy" from the mouths of his own. For him to be honored on such a special day will be a delight. To see his face in their faces. I give thanks for such deep desires, and while there is trust in supreme timing that manages the sorrow, this does not mean the emotions are void.

So while today was wonderful in getting to love on those so dear to us, it did come with its own set of hurts. However, it will continue to be a comfort knowing Father's Day will always maintain a comfort well beyond a date set aside on a calendar. It will be a reminder of the greatest of sacrifices. It will be a reminder of an unfathomable amount of love, of graciousness. Even in giving thanks for those special men in our lives, I pray to remember continually the Father who loves us, desires us, consoles us and will always draw us unto himself should we be willing.

Pride...

leads to...

Idolatry...

which results in...

Apostasy...

http://www.marshillchurch.org/media/trial/doctrine-from-false-teachers-part-2

Amazing reminder for all.

"Quotes"

Quotes have often been the source of chatter. Sprawled in media to coffee shop talk, our culture lives for those little punctuation marks. While I would like to hope it's to glean goodness and points of reflection, that remains in question. Often times the wildfire of words we hear more about is spread purposed to the obliteration of an image or the speculation of one's character. More time spent on self. More time judging. More time comparing identity. A perpetual cycle of image idolatry and consumption of humanity. It's unfortunate, especially when so many wonderful quotes exist.

Simple phrases that can enrich our lives... those that enlighten; those that uplift the hopeless and encourage the defeated; those chanting us to the finish line of what race has been set before us; those that prop us with strength and power when when opposition fights our success... these are my pursuit.

Quotes can truly be personal. However, the trend of spurning a phrase because of instantaneous disagreement does not mean it cannot be a useful reflection tool or used to gain perspective on the lens others (reached, unreached and/or potentially reached) view the world in which we live. Does this mean let garbage into your mind? Does this mean disregard any form of guarding your thoughts or filtering what you allow to take hold in your mind? Absolutely not, but rather approaching such comments with caution.... taking in or tossing aside.

All of this comes up as I ponder quotes from time to time - thinking through various interpretations and deciphering the "weightiness," if you will. May it or may it not hold insight?Relative to my life is not the key factor. Is it relative to life in general? to others? to pursuing life in community?

Here are a few quotes. Like them, dislike them, find them useful, find them relative... that's an individual perspective. As for me, I am still processing...

"I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it."

--Maya Angelou

"If you judge people, you have no time to love them."

--Mother Teresa

"Bread for myself is a material question. Bread for my neighbor is a spiritual one."

--Nicholas Berdyaev

"In prayer it is better to have a heart without words than words without heart."

--John Bunyan

"Some minds are like concrete - thoroughly mixed up and permanently set."

--Anonymous

"I have learned that sometimes the things we want to forget are the things which we most need to talk about..."

--Alli Newton

Mourning

The topic has been close in thought for many reasons over the last year. Whether it be mourning the loss of a loved one, mourning the loss of proximity to those dearest to your heart, even mourning the season of life that may be trying in every decision, maybe even in every moment, it's there. It seems our society allots the term "mourn" for the first circumstance in the list above, but by definition it means to show grief or sorrow. Sorrow in it's essence is distress because of "loss, affliction, disappointment; grief, sadness or regret." Mourning - it's everywhere. With this somewhat revelatory thought, I started thinking about if taken in a different light - we might perceive ourselves differently, cut ourselves some breathing room and lessen how we try to psycho-analyze everyone. Why can it not be acceptable for one to struggle through a season without feeling like something is "wrong" with them. In our sin-filled world, we will face these times. With "the fall" came heartache, came struggles, came pain. We don't need a label for such occurrences. We need encouragement. We need prayer. We need love fashioned without conditions. We need hope. We need faith. I say "we" throughout because times of "mourning" are inevitable for all. Some may struggle to escape the rut and hopelessness more than others, but that does not mean each of us will not face the bleakness at some point.

So, along with the thoughts of mourning another point pushed forth. For most of us when specifically dealing with the loss of a loved one, given the relationship is healthy, it's as if our hearts seemingly break. The pain is deep. It's wrenching. It's overwhelming. As this sits fresh on my experiences, I have come to wonder if these same sensations resonate with God when one of his children drift. When we deliberately make choices not in line with his good, perfect and gracious will... when one of his very own creations rejects him obstinately, leaving hope, leaving unconditional love, leaving salvation... does he experience these same pangs deep within his very essence? Is the mourning we experience a reflection of his despair? "Made in his likeness" and "As an image bearer"... that's what the Bible says. So, I cannot help to believe that my willfulness and disobedience causes grave pain. My lack of discipline, my lack of desire, my lack of pursuit obviously creates a feeling of loss, of mourning. The very thought of invoking such pain within my Creator every single time I sin is mind bending. While I don't claim to know how God feels when we blatantly, or for lack of discernment, sin against Him... I truly believe he is grieved.

All of this points to the very clear conclusion.. mourning is present everywhere. It's in our homes, our family. It's in our community. It's within the lives of those we see in each given day. While it may not be within the present moment or day, it has been or will be there. What kind of compassion would we pursue each relationship with if we first acknowledged the tender love and care we all need when preparing for, dealing with or overcoming a time of such deep pain?Essentially, this means we should constantly nurture relationships in such a way. Pain is real. Pain unfortunately (or fortunately, if looking at it from a character building perspective) challenges each life. May we mourn well. May we nurture well. May we allow ourselves and lead others to the comforting and loving arms of our Father.

Contagion

The demeanor we maintain says a lot about who we are at the deepest core or our being. Whether it be spoken or unspoken thoughts, actions, or even reactions, how we go about each moment tells the story of our personal identity and presents indicators of the perspective we preserve for life itself.

While working through several literary works, a common theme threads them all... gratefulness. At first thought, 'gratefulness' seems easy enough and almost amateur; by no means is the term a novel one. However, upon reflection there is so much more than the blurb found in Webster. Gratefulness, when given time, manifests into a paradigm. It represents a humble outlook generated by acknowledging one's own needs beyond the grasp of self-fulfillment. This same gratefulness surfaces as human depravity becomes clearer. While it often begins with maybe a "thank you," the attitutde can potentially develop into a way of life.

On a daily basis, each of us cross opportunities to express gratefulness, but do we seek them? Really and truly... is this the lens used to sift through the moments? Most of us probably would like to say yes, but in reality, and in all honesty, the answers would be no.

Gratefulness as a demeanor, as a way of life, takes effort. Like other things in life, something upheld as a priority requires time to foster development. This in fact is not much different. Gratefulness grows with discipline, then the habit forms, which pervades life itself. Gratefulness as a paradigm extends beyond circumstances so even when we walk through our valleys, a thankful spirit perseveres.

But such a nature extends beyond us and our 'bubble' of space. While some people will stand on their rights as an individual and argue the very essence of their finite existence, demeanor affects those in our surroundings. Contagion!! Community, fellowship, relationship... we thrive in number.

Keeping this in mind, how differently would we think and respond if all of us pursued a path to affect others in a positive way? How differently would we interact with others if we considered what our words or actions communicated regarding the state or our soul, the very essence of all we are and hope to be? Leaving you with one final question...

What contagion do you instigate?


"A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." -Proverbs 17:22 (NIV)

Thus it begins...

... may it be an endeavor worth entertaining!

I recently read an excerpt from My Beautiful Idol by Pete Gall. His words struck the chords of the facade our culture would have us believe - that superficial is enough, not only when relating to others, but equally important... when relating to ourselves.

"I'm stuck there, hiding my inconsistencies in places that feel impenetrable to me, but I know they're plain to anyone who bothers to look. I live on the social meniscus that is the unspoken promise to politely ignore each other's foibles. I fear the breaking of that meniscus, and what would happen to me, and I hate living in that fear. That's the catch with camouflaged hiding places, I guess - they're more prison than protection, locking you away until the day they fail you."

In one way or another, many of us teeter on a 'meniscus' usually fabricated by our own doings. We formulate our paradigm, the idols follow, and then ensues our identity. What are we hoping? That perception becomes reality and unwanted realities dissipate with ignorance? People around us might be fooled, but your Creator will not. Thus, by losing our identity, we create our own chaos. We burden ourselves with constantly attempting to fit within an image. But reality (otherwise known as The Holy Spirit) would eventually point us back to the very essence of ourselves, that our identity was not lost at all; yet, stifled to the point of pain. Fitting into normality does not exist, because "normal" is respective to each person. Why must we insist on placing our efforts into a struggle toward an unobtainable perfection within these tidy "hiding places" as Gall calls it? Instead, how can we look to finding true identity in an accurate reflection... a mirror extending beyond physicality to the soul?