Tag: grace

You Want the Truth? You can’t Handle the Truth!

jack nicholsonThat is one of my favorite movie lines from all time, and it was what popped into my head when I worried about how to continue my discussion on illusion.  I thought of using “breaking bad”, but since the series just ended, I didn’t feel right usurping any searches that way.  While I think the first instinct for most people is that they would really like the truth, to see it, know it and live it…I have to be honest and say that I don’t believe that for a minute.

I didn’t sleep much last night, and as I often do, I prayed hard that God may break any illusions that may hold me prisoner, and to bless me with even greater truth.  And that is exactly what God did.  Except not at first, at first there was just silence…so I turned on the TV, as I often do when I can’t sleep.  As I pressed the guide on my remote, there was a movie on called “Desert Flower”, thinking that it might  be an opportunity to get an answer to my questions, I watched it.  It was about the life of Waris Dirie, a super model who suffered the humility of female genital mutilation, or female circumcision and became the world’s foremost crusader against it.  I’m not shifting gears into this heroic struggle, but there was a point in the film, when she flashes back to when she was a three year old girl, playing and kissing her mother and the graphic horror of what happened when held by two woman who mutilated her without anesthesia .  I sobbed long and hard, of course as a mother at what pain and horror that baby went through, and because of the horrible subjugation of women that still occurs around the world.  Through my tears, though, I still wasn’t ready for sleep, so I kept watching T.V.

The movie that followed, was called “The Magdalene Sisters.”  It told the stories of four young women in 1964 Ireland who labeled”fallen” by their families, were sent to Magdalene Asylums to suffer manual labor doing laundry and other penance as appeasement for their sins.  The abuse and humiliation these young woman suffered all under the tutelage of the Roman Catholic Church, was just as painful to watch.   Again, I don’t want to talk about that injustice right now either.  Here was my uncomfortable truth: In this moment of time, I have it unbelievably easy, I have control over my body, my mind and my voice, and I won’t be punished for it.  I am free to choose the life I live and choose what I want to believe, the operative word being “choose.”

While it is not perfect, my country allows me this freedom.  I am grateful for it, and proud to live as an American citizen.   Of course, that isn’t the greater truth.  The greater truth is this; All of our voices matter.  We, the people represent different ethnicity’s, religious beliefs, sexual orientations, socioeconomic status, intelligence and gender.  That is why we have a republic, a representative government.  Coming up with solutions that will represent all of us is tricky and hard.  I think Congress has forgotten that fact.  In this crisis I have become biased, and angry that one small group of people thinks that their voice matters more than anybody else’s.  So I’m using my voice to declare loudly, “Knock it off!  put your dicks back in your pants and pass a CR to reopen the government.  Quit pointing the finger at each other and COMPROMISE!  and that doesn’t include what has already been made into law and upheld by the court.  DO A BETTER JOB.  QUIT CLAIMING TO SPEAK FOR ONLY THOSE THAT THINK LIKE YOU DO AND TRY AND WORK FOR US ALL FOR A CHANGE…that is what we elected you to do.

To conclude, let me just say that I had to be reminded of how little power many woman have around the world before I was challenged to exercise my own.  I will do better.

To See or Not to See

ireland-crossHere is something that must be said.  Simply stated, my faith in God is central to the way in which I observe the world—but that is just me.  Although devout, I wouldn’t describe my faith as typical.  I know I’ve said this before, but as a theology student I was given an assignment to find a biblical passage to represent my faith…my choice?: King David dancing naked before the Ark of the Covenant—draw your own conclusions.  In the rash of religious fundamentalism that has taken hold of many in today’s world, I am almost a bit embarrassed to share my passion and devotion to God for fear of being pigeon-holed as an advocate for some of the idiocy that has come out of some religious fundamentalists.  However, this post can be helpful to anyone regardless of where they are in life’s great journey or what philosophy or theology they embrace.  My purpose here is to simply help people  reflect on, and have a stake in how they choose to observe the ordinary things in this world because it matters more than you may realize.  The many Christian and other spiritual images I use serve to illustrate what I have learned, and they just seem to make a lot of sense to me.  More than anything, it is faith that God is behind me at all times that gives me the strength of this conviction: All things, are indeed possible.

Let me say this: the connections I’ve made based on how I observe the world have led me to new ideas which have resulted in becoming an effective force for change (or a force to be reckoned with depending on the day).  Simply put, I found that most of the materials necessary to live out the movie in my head and the answers to my life’s questions came wrapped in ordinary brown paper, free for the taking.   As much fun as it is to believe that a secret society, centuries ago, has buried the secret to happiness in countless riddles all over the globe, the truth is that it has been right in front of us all along.

The key lies in how to observe the ordinary: using ones own cosmic imagination to see everyday raw materials as essential ingredients in creating something greater, to achieve ones dream.  I may just be stating the obvious, but I’m amazed at how many people don’t even begin to use the simple things that are right in front of them.  They look, but do not really see.  The growing sense of fear and despair in the world is all the proof that I need to bring a message of hope.  Observing the world as one that is evolving into greatness shapes the very way one moves and creates in it.   This is not just another take on “attitude is everything.”  When I use the word “observation,” I’m not speaking about a passive action, rather, one that is the root of all creation and growth.  I, in my ordinary-ness, am as essential a factor in the world’s equation for success as any president or king, because my observations are unique to me alone.  And because they are unique to me alone, they can be the exact ingredient necessary for my greatness somewhere else.

Another observation I’ve made is that too many people want to bypass the middle of any process.  We live in a day and age where the easiest route is always the best route, regardless of the cost.  Having status is far more important than the process by which one attains it.  What happens when one is given something too easily, without the opportunity to earn it?  In an age where technology has made all our lives so much easier, perhaps we have lost the motivation to work hard…for anything.  That may be a hard bit to swallow, but there is evidence out there to prove my point.  I find the amount of money that goes into gambling and lottery pots around the world staggering.  It is certainly more than the GNP of many third world countries in the world.  What really is the end result for bypassing the middle where all the hard work is and jumping to the end?  I think part of the reason that we want to bypass the middle is that there is a subtle underlying message today that tempts us into believing that life shouldn’t be hard, that there are ways to bypass any difficulty and that if you can’t fix it within a moment’s time, throw it away and buy something better.  Sadly enough, there are more than enough individuals out there who have, to put it bluntly, just stopped moving period, forcing the rest of us to find our way around them.

I would also venture to say that most people out there have, at times, considered themselves to be inconsequential when it comes to making an impact on the world. They don’t see themselves as an essential element in something much greater.  It is this belief that has created the grey cloud that is obstructing clear sight.  I am here to say this: the roots of colossal change lie in the smallest and simplest things which often go unnoticed by the naked eye.  When you bypass the middle of any process, you miss all the important stuff.  It is the mustard seed approach that Jesus spoke about: taking something small and seemingly insignificant and learning to have faith in its potential, to put forth the effort to nurture it and see its place in the distant future, far after it has left my circle of influence.  Like the beauty of our DNA’s double helix, every single element is essential in creating the blueprint that becomes a human being.  It is the compilation of many different elements that expresses our potential.  Why not look at our human family the same way?

Being in the middle of a process can also be, at times, tedious, hard work, full of uncertainty, and time-consuming.  It also demands a great deal of humility and faith in the work being done and the process as a whole.  It is my hope to give credit and encouragement to anyone in that middle place, where the effort is not glamorous, but is no less essential than finishing the job.  All of us, at one time or another has had the tedious job of passing a bucket.  Columbus may have been credited for discovering America, but when it came to the discovery of chocolate he was just a middle man

Back to Observation

eyes of graceFrom my unrecognizable place in the world, I’ve seen a lot.   Being in the middle has had its advantages.  I’ve learned a lot from being a middle child, living in the Midwest, graduating several times in the middle of my class, having a middle-income, juggling the challenges of the middle class etc.  Far from being mediocre, though, being in the middle has offered me an equidistant view to the world. From the thick of it, I see an increasing sense of discontentment, anxiety, stress and a loss of hope.  It seems that my penchant for average has kept me, sometimes against my will in a position of observation.  There seems to be a ubiquitous grey cloud that hangs over society today, even a midst the plethora of groups who have laid claim to the key to happiness or in the alternative try to isolate the exact source of our discontent and eradicate it.  In all honesty, most of those groups on high who offer solutions to any and all problems if I would just surrender my control and give into “the right way of thinking” are never all that hopeful or happy, which truly doesn’t inspire much credibility on their part.

And yet, I’m not offering any magical solution either.  However, it doesn’t mean that a solution isn’t there, just waiting to be recognized.  After years of honing my observation skills, I think I understand why we aren’t necessarily in a better place. It all lies in our perception and our ability to see the solution.  No solution to any problem is helpful if you can’t see it.  So let me use another sense to focus on the problem.  Focus on your hearing for a moment: I cannot sing.  I’m not being modest.  I really can’t sing.  But, just because I’m aware of my own limitations vocally doesn’t mean that I also forgo the ability to make a decision about whether someone else can sing or not.  Pretend you’re on a variation of the show American Idol.  Now, instead of it being your job to listen to potential singers, focus on the contestant’s perception of their singing.  The truth, or proof of talent, is what comes out of their mouths, not from voicing the opinion that they are the one you are looking for.  Very often, you respond with incredulity, because it is painfully obvious that many of the contestants are delusional.  Then, just when it feels like there is no hope, and you’re ready to accept anybody that may have only a glimmer of talent, a pure tone and melody presents itself often from the least likely contestant. It is keeping alive the hope, like a beautiful song, that an answer to a prayer exists out there for each one of us. All of us ordinary folk have been inundated with really bad singers for too long now.  The negativity of the information we receive from almost every angle, like nails on a blackboard, is making my head hurt.  Like those terrible singers on American Idol, some people are just plain off-key and should be told so.  When truth becomes buried so deeply under the screeching of the tone-deaf, it does have an effect on the rest of the world, making it harder for the rest of us to hear the clear tones of truth.

Bad things happen, to be sure.  The cure, though, is much more basic and a lot more boring, which may, to many people, make it far less interesting than being delusional.  Truth is often the bitterest of pills and it is indeed a challenge to encourage consumption in a way that is palatable…but I do feel obligated to try.  The answer lies in not what one sees, but how one sees it: the process of observation.  For example, take something simple like the cacao bean, cane sugar, and cow’s milk.   Looking at these raw materials singularly one may not see anything remarkable, but who could have guessed that, as an addendum to a long and adventurous journey of discovering a new world, these ordinary elements would work in concert together to become one of the great culinary discoveries of all time: chocolate.

The fact that chocolate has been a delicacy and has delighted our taste buds for centuries isn’t at all surprising.  What may be surprising, though, are recent scientific studies that have also shown the impact that the properties of the cocoa bean has on our health.  Many of you are probably aware that consuming chocolate releases endorphins : a natural morphine like substance that your body produces that inspires well-being.  Were you aware that chocolate may also improve cognitive function and make your heart healthier also?  Had the cocoa bean been left in its natural and bitter state, perhaps we wouldn’t have been so willing to include it as practically its own food group.  Again, so there is a great food that is good for you, not such a big deal.  The biggest miracle of chocolate though, doesn’t lie in our taste buds or sense of well-being, but how it came about in the first place.

The truly amazing part about the interactions between the Mayans, Aztecs, Columbus, Cortez, and some Spanish monks, is that individually they never intended to discover a new food.  The creation of chocolate is only one example of what can happen when simple elements of different worlds unwittingly merge and then emerge into something entirely new and different.  Like children do, the key is to observe the world in a way that is teeming full of potential.  Perhaps it is God’s intent to present us the necessary raw materials and let our hearts be the source of seeing what ordinary elements mixed together can do to transform the bitter into the delightful.  It also took time, some failures and a host of different players to find the perfect recipe.  The creation of chocolate is the perfect metaphor for the plot of the movie in my head: there is always something great that can come out of any journey, even if it is unintentional.  The challenge is to believe that any road can lead to chocolate by learning to see the infinite potential in ourselves, and the ordinary things and people one sees along the way.  My entire life thus far is a living testimony to this truth.

In a general sense, the purpose of these post’s on observation is to create a cosmic sort of chocolate, so to speak: to create a process by which one can see the world in a way that looks as good as chocolate tastes…and is still healthy for you. It just doesn’t make sense that from this world of amazing raw materials God would give any of us great visuals without also setting us in the right direction and providing means necessary to be a part of bringing them to fruition.   It’s simply a question of being able to see and then bring together the right ingredients. I’ve also learned not to be too rigid about what the final result will look like, to limit the number of roads necessary to get there or even stay around long enough to actually see the fruits of my labor.  And I can say with confidence that I have never been disappointed. Confused at times, perhaps, but never disappointed.

That being said, because each of our lives are different I wouldn’t necessarily expect anyone else to fully understand or appreciate the movie in my head, like I probably wouldn’t fully appreciate what is going on in anybody else’s either.  It’s important to preserve subjectivity.  Not only are we all predisposed genetically to certain traits, we all have accumulated millions of different experiences, resulting in millions of unique personal dioramas.  So really, no one individual will ever see the world in the same way any other does.   This also means that no one else can give you an instruction book on how to live out the movie in your own head.  What I’ve observed is that too many people rely on others to tell them how they must see the world to find success which is one of the causes of the world’s deluded thinking.

The whole point here is not to have you embrace the movie in my head, but to embrace the movie in your own head and learn to observe the world in such a way so that it can happen.  Figuring out what ones uniqueness is and putting it out there in the world to mix with others is the first step.  This is not without challenges, especially in this day and age, because being a totally different and unique individual often runs contrary to societies’ push to be defined by and live within specific cultural rules created by bigger and seemingly more powerful people than us ordinary folk.  It is easy to succumb to the pressure to allow an external standard to tell you what to think and define who you are and your place of importance in this world.  If we all saw the world the same way, there would never be growth, which depends on a myriad of different perspectives, from the grandest to the simplest.  As an ingredient, my addition to the mix might be the most basic, but essential nonetheless.  Like chocolate, it’s the different ingredients coming together that can bring a dream to life.

Because each of us is different, the need to have outside acceptance or approval can be fatal when striving to live one’s dream.  Understanding what goes on in one’s head is central to the individual only.   Don’t get me wrong, acceptance and approval is nice, but it isn’t a requirement.  When I think of some of human histories greatest thinkers, Socrates, Plato, Jesus, Galileo, Shakespeare, Gandhi, Dorothy Day, Susan B. Anthony, Einstein, to a personal favorite of mine, Teilhard De Chardin, they were far more familiar with condemnation than acceptance.  Where would we be if they hadn’t persisted in the face of societies’ disapproval?  The simple reality is that no one else can live my life or fulfill my dreams, but me.   Most of the things that I’ve accomplished in my life never would have happened had I waited for permission, approval, or enough of an understanding by other people of what goes on in my head for anyone to give me support in the first place.

While approval isn’t essential, it is also impossible to achieve one’s dream in a vacuum.  We are all dependent on ordinary elements to make the movie in our heads a reality, whether it comes in the form of a person, an idea, or a simple experience.  And it is being able to see the importance of those simple things and have faith in their potential in whatever guise they are presented to us that will determine one’s failure or success.   Expecting that someone else can give you all the answers will almost guarantee failure, and rarely are they packaged with a bow and flashy wrapping.  Although acceptance by others is never necessary in bringing a dream to life, the knowledge that each individual out there may be essentially the exact ingredient necessary for a dream is reason enough to encourage everyone to “be all that they can be.”  The more I actualize my own dreams, the better chance, even if unwittingly, I can help actualize someone else’s.  How often does that thought come into your heads?  How often to do you start your day with this thought:  I may be the exact ingredient necessary to help someone’s dream come true?  Even if it is in the subtlest way, that thought should change everything about how you observe the world…when was the last time anyone told you that you were essential to success of the world…to the success of building the Kingdom of God?  I thought so.  So, let it start now.  Be cosmic chocolate to someone.  They don’t even need to be aware of it…only you do.

I’m Stuck

missing boobsAll crap aside, I have tried in the last couple of days to 1) figure out what exactly drives me as an observer and 2) figure out how to improve and change what drives me as an observer.  Truthfully, I am stuck.  I’m stuck because there is a part of me, perhaps the part that is rooted in common sense, that absolutely can’t change how I view that portion of the world that is so rooted in illusion that they are convinced it is the rest of the world that is completely insane….I KNOW!  THAT VERY EXAMPLE FITS ME BOTH AS AN OBSERVER AND THOSE THAT I OBSERVE!!!  It is a bit of a conundrum.  So, I have begun to disassemble the illusory elements in my life…which also stands as proof that my willingness to accept that I may just be as crazy as those I’ve been judging, is a sign that I am in fact, not the crazy on in this observer/observed relationship.  Also, the fact that I would never go out in public with my boobs tucked into my pants because I misplaced my bra and shirt is a point on my side as well.

As far as what drives me as an observer, I would say first and foremost it is my faith as a Christian….I KNOW! MOST OF THE CRAZY PEOPLE I’VE OBSERVED ALSO INCLUDE CHRISTIANITY AS THEIR BIGGEST DRIVING FORCE!  That includes, and is not limited to those horrible spirited people who protest funerals, those that think that a woman’s body has special powers to keep from being impregnated when she is “legitimately” raped, and any or all of the “Real Housewives of Orange County.”  So, what happened?  Did we get it wrong?  I, personally, think we did.  This then, is where I will start.  Read this verse John 13: 34 & 35 and answer this question…is this how you understand your faith?  Actually read the whole chapter, it is the story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet.  A wonderful portrayal of what is expected of authority.

I know that Jesus didn’t just grab a random person off the streets and command them to love like he did and wash their feet.  He loved these disciples.  He had journeyed with them, spent three years with them…he had tamed them.  Because he had tamed them, he knew that they would understand his command.  The ties that bound them on earth were so important when it came to building and continuing his church, and he was no longer physically with him.  They were responsible to each other, just like the Little Prince taught (see post on Taming).  I think is the most important part…I asked myself the same question: How am I responsible to Him?.  I didn’t get tamed by Jesus personally…only spiritually, and it was through a disciple that I came to understand what he was all about.  It is what made me different from any of the others that have made the same claim.  It has put me on a path of not focusing on being better than or being right…but one of being better and responsible to this phrase:  “They will know you are my disciple by how you love one another.”  The break down of illusion starts there.

Serious Work to Do

people_of_walmart_7398I took a step away from deep thoughts for a moment and thought I would step outside my small circle and check out the state of my view on ordinary people out there.  It’s not altogether pretty.  I’m usually an optimist, but man there is some weird stuff out there, and I found myself spiraling into a deep sense of pessimism that truly is foreign to me.  Just perusing through social network sites, (you would be amazed at how many are totally public) was shallow proof that the end of the world is nigh.  Seriously, if the observer does has an impact on the state of the world (check the last post), I can understand why we are all slipping into hell in a dirty hand basket.  I can’t get over the fact that there actually is a website dedicated to Wal-Mart people…moreover I can’t get over the fact that people on that website actually went out in public like that.  I am amazed at the stupid, stupid, STUPID things that ordinary folk take to heart as fact, such as Obama is really a foreign Muslim, or the world is 6000 years old, and Climate change is really Armageddon, so there is nothing we can so do to stop it.  This is not good.  I am a bit ashamed and feeling a bit self-righteous as an observer and I will ponder on this a bit.  Granted there is a lot of strange and stupid things out there, but it is how I, as an observer respond to it that makes on the difference in the world.  At this point, I admit I don’t know how to respond…so I won’t.  I will, believe me.  I just wanted you to understand the silence.

Time

winterspringAs reflected by the weather…time seems to be at a standstill for me, leaving me with a bit of whiplash since it usually speeds by so fast I never seem to be able to keep up…even with good shoes.  When a particular moment in history is difficult, it feels like the clock will never move again.  I am stuck at an impasse.  Mother Nature shares my sympathies, given the late April snow storm we had yesterday and oddly, it gives me comfort, allowing me to stand still for a moment and try to catch my breath.  As I stood in my yard yesterday morning at the crack of dawn, I tried to recognize the beauty and peace of the moment and stifle the growing frustration at the circumstances of my life right now.  Even in the cold, when the exit of winter is long over due and stubbornly forces the entrance of spring into stasis, I find peace in the stalemate.  While I am anxious for new life to begin in the resurrection of spring, I pause to reflect on springs past and pull out memories that have given me strength to move ahead into the warmth of spring.

Step by Step

my shoesThese are my shoes…kind of quirky, kind of fun.  You can design your own on the Adidas website.  I had my name added, not because I was living in fear that someone would steal them, (although they are cool), but as a reminder that it is my feet that are walking this path.  I am the one putting one foot in front of the other, or standing still, or even on the occasion walking backward.  These are my shoes, no one else’s.  Only I can get myself where I need to go.  It’s true that at times, others have given me direction, cleared obstacles and smoothed the way and some have even put obstacles in my path to trip me up…but I am responsible for how I move forward.  Regardless of what is ahead, I can choose to dance or drag my feet.  I can stomp my feet in a tantrum at the unfairness of it all or simply let it go and run forward as fast as I can.  I am the only thing that can stop me.  When I allow chatter like “You can’t do that”, or “You’re not worthy” to impede my steps, I can’t blame anyone but me.  No one can limit me, but me.  The intent of the universe is for each of us to achieve our highest purpose.

This is underlined even more for me as a woman of faith.  When God is for me, who can be against me?  The boon of spiritual assistance gives me no excuse.  As I look to my future and I walk in my shoes, I remember that blame will stop me in my tracks, and will never get me where I need to go, as will lending an ear to those who want me to fail.  I walk in my shoes…no one else.  While my journey may be a singular affair, the upswing is that I don’t have to walk alone.   I can choose companions to walk along side me, which does abate the loneliness of my life’s adventure.  I’m better now than when I was younger at avoiding those who slowed me down or confused my sense of direction, yet I still have to remind myself once in a while when it is time to move out of a crowd and forge ahead on my own.   And while my journey may include walking in step with fools at times, there are many times in hindsight where I realize that I myself was the fool.  I am thankful for those angels God put in my path when it was most needed, and I hope I’ve been an angel to others in their time of need too.

My steps may not be as quick as they used to be and my shoes have taken on a more practical nature, but I embrace the adventure of every new day…I forge on happily, just me and my shoes.

The Ripple Effect

edlingsWhen it comes to influence, sometimes I think we underestimate the simple things, those simple gestures that may not seem so significant at the moment, but whose gentle influence has somehow altered the path we walk in life.  My father-in-law is like that.  He is a central figure in our small hamlet of St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin.  My husband’s family ran the funeral home in town, and everyone knows his father John.  I always laugh when my husband answers the phone with the phrase “Who died?” because I know he is talking to his father, who mentally keeps record of the people in his community.  He’s the kind of guy, you could meet once, and I don’t know if it was because he was a mnemonic master, but he would not only remember you but have pertinent details about your family and life events as well.  We’d travel all over the country and, it happened all the time, we would be at a gas station in Texas, or some other far out place and someone would come up to him and say, “Aren’t you John Edling?” and talk about how he had helped them, or how he knew a family member of theirs.   When I was in Law School, my torts professor had to miss a class because of the death of his mother and when he came back and found out I was married to an Edling, he told me that my father-in-law had arranged the funeral and what a wonderful person he was…(his father had been the butcher in town).  Things like that happen a lot.  John was voted the best athlete of all time in St. Croix Falls a couple of years ago, his high school basketball team still holds the record for the greatest point spread in Wisconsin state high school tournament history.  He in turned passed that passion forward through his children, and countless other town athletes.  Even after he stopped driving, he would still find a way to stand on the side lines of every varsity football game.

Right now, John is sick, and he is moving closer to the Kingdom of God.  His mortal life may be coming to a close, but the ripples of his influence will go on and on forever.  To him, it is effortless to help and comfort people, which is why he is so beloved.  Simple gestures are what make him a great person, gestures that touched more hearts than he will ever know, and will ripple outward through others who learned how important those gestures can be to someone’s  life.  I hope it makes him happy and gives him comfort to remember that.  I also know it will give comfort to My mother-in-law Rayola, to Steve and his siblings, Jude, David and Barbara to remember how many lives he has influenced.  He is a true character, and in many ways, Steven is just like him…generous to a fault, kind and altruistic, passionate about sports and feels totally comfortable in hanging out in boxer shorts.  Blessings John, fear not…I see a heavenly ticker tape parade in your future soon.

Agony

agony

I’ve been working on a dramatic piece called “Stations” about Jesus’ final walk to Golgotha for a while now, and it’s had many incarnations.  Lately, though, I keep coming back to the agony Jesus felt in the Garden of Gethsemane before the culmination of his great act of sacrifice.  How deep was the agony he felt that it would cause him to sweat blood, to panic so deeply, that even after all his miracles and raising Lazarus from the dead, he asked his Father to release him at the last-minute?  So, as I often do, I prayed to God for some insight into those few hours underneath the tree…and this is what came to mind.  Music is part of my process, and this piece in particular from Eric Whitacre peeled away much of what I was afraid to see, invoking such grief and deep emotion that I was almost too embarrassed to write this post.  So I add it as a context, while you read that hopefully it will add a dimension to my words.

I see a solitary figure under a tree, with sleeping men laying a short distance away.  His loneliness is palpable and He prays out to His Father for assistance and comfort.  An angel appears and quietly sits beside him, and I draw closer.  The solemnity of the angels’ presence is palpable, his tone somber as he speaks to Jesus.  What transpires between them is an understanding of what is about to happen in the next few days, that agony has begun.  The angel shows Jesus the sinfulness of humanity throughout the ages and his fury grows blinding hot, more than he ever did at the scribes and pharisees, or any other behavior we have witnessed thus far.  In his rage, he turns away and tells the angel that perhaps humanity is beyond saving.  The thought of sacrificing himself for such an abomination is unbearable to him.  The angel than takes his hand and shows him the victims of that sin…the beauty of God’s creation destroyed in the darkest and most heinous fashion and then racked in anger and despair he begs his Father to release him from drinking from this cup.

I try to empathize with Jesus, and though I haven’t seen all that the angel has shown him, I hope I have seen enough evil in my life to maybe create a speck of understanding.  Who would die for them?  The angel then turns to me and brings Jesus attention to where I am standing.  Up until this point I am an unknown presence, a simple voyeur watching a play.  As I am drawn in, fear wells up inside, I am exposed…in all my fallibility it is me that Jesus sees now in his deepest agony.  The angel points to me and says…”It is for her that you must bear this burden, so that she might live.”  Jesus turns to me and immediately the anguish in his face dissipates for a moment and he sees me, purely, flaws and all.  I am no longer an insignificant one of millions who is graced because of something that happened 2000 years ago.  I am removed from that safety of history and stand right before him, weak and pathetic.  The angel wants me to be the reason that he follows through with what will be the most painful, demoralizing and fearful moments of his life.  Completely shocked and appalled and before I can run away to avoid the guilt of being the reason for his pain he turns to heaven and says “Father, let your will be done.”  He turns to me resolved and with such eyes of love that I fall on the ground weeping.  I scream at him, “Don’t make me the reason, I am not worth going through what you about to go through.”  I fall with the weight of this realization clear in my heart to the ground…the phrase “He died for my sins” blaring into my head, and I am unable in that raw moment to safely intellectualized anything.  My soul in broken, I see that now.

Jesus pulls me up, and the moment I look into his eyes, my burden is lifted and the weight of my sins are gone.  In an instant, I know that it wasn’t only just my face that he saw but every face seen singularly,  yet all at once.  His appearance becomes a bit heavier and darker and I understand the transference of my sins and all whose eyes he gazed upon has begun.  The aura of his purity is blackened…I know now that it will be easy for him to be handed over for crucifixion.  The blackness of our sin becomes like a cloak…hiding his true nature by reflecting back to those that gaze upon him their own sinfulness.  Magnified by a millennium of sin I see now how they can hate him.  Every Good Friday service, at the part in the story when the crowd screams “crucify him!”,  I am certain I would have stood up to the crowd and fought for him.  Now, seeing him with the weight of that darkness, I don’t think I could.  It is so easy to hate the sin worn by others, when we can’t see it in ourselves.

My once broken soul has been made whole by his sacrifice, the cloak of my sin is gone.  The light of his grace can shine unfettered and bring healing to the world.  It can shine through me if I choose to be his instrument of love and peace.  And as often as I may fail, this visit to the garden will inspire me to keep trying…every day until I die.

The Naked Truth

flasherSo, what does perfection look like?  The dictionary defines it, in part, as the full growth or development of anything, or a completed state.  So beyond all the traditional trappings…I ask this question, “Given that God is perfect what does God look like?  Avoiding the easy traps of artists portrayals, I start with the old testament when God was always shrouded somehow, because to look upon God physically meant certain death.  The metaphor that came to me as I was struggling to find something completely unique, was that of God as a flasher–God revealing the deeper realities of life, for God’s pleasure, and our limited ability to see God in full glory.  NOW WAIT INTERNET, DO NOT FREAK OUT, KEEP WITH ME FOR JUST A MINUTE!  I have waited for enough time after writing this draft to validate that I have not caught on fire, I have not turned to stone and my head hasn’t turned all the way around once…so just bare with me, if God’s OK with it, so should you.  First of all, the reason I use the flasher image is that God has been clothed in so many different layers over the centuries, it’s about time to challenge many of these historical notions.  So when all the layers are stripped away, what do we have left?  I don’t have that answer yet, but and this is a big one, BUT I certainly had to ask this question first?  Am I willing to see God naked?

Culturally, nakedness is far more associated with sexuality and porn than personal knowledge and perfection.  The kind of exposure from someone who reveals themselves out of pleasure without being asked to do so is not only uncomfortable, many times it is a criminal offense.  Perhaps it is our discomfort and limited capacity for understanding perfection that God chooses to show us only so much at a time.  It can be more than a little daunting to entertain the possibility that many of the fundamental assumptions we have about God are really ill-fitting costumes that not only hide, but distort God’s very essence.  I say this, in part, because if we were so clear about God’s true nature, wouldn’t our world be in a much better place?  So let’s go back to before being naked was an indecent thing.

According to the book of Genesis, when Eve, then Adam ate from the tree of knowledge, bringing sin into paradise, they recognized their nakedness, tried to cover themselves up and hid from God.  Note that being naked was a good thing until they sinned and they began to see themselves differently as a result.  It certainly doesn’t imply that being naked was intrinsically a bad thing does it?  We are created in God’s image, after all…free of any wardrobe malfunctions.  Isn’t it more likely that the need to cover ourselves up as a result of recognizing our imperfection naturally flows to why we try to cover up God as well;  we don’t want the constant reminder of how imperfect we really are.  History certainly says so, for Christians anyway, look how humanity treated Jesus.  If we are truly created in the image of God, and by our own choice moved away from that image, it seems to make sense that in order to discover God’s true nature we deal with our own nakedness…and the neurosis that comes with it first.

Looking at my own naked flesh is mixed with many different emotions.  At my age it is impossible avoid gravity, period.  I will never resemble those beautiful women in the magazines, and I guess I’m OK with that, but sadly, though, I never thought my body would ever resemble one of those prehistoric fertility goddess figurines comprised of sagging breasts and a marsupial like stomach either…and while spanks work miracles, they do have to come off some time.  But at the same time, this body of mine has survived breaks, falls, injuries, childbirth, dancing, and the many things I have done for God…all that comes with living life.  Our bodies are the empirical evidence of all that we have seen and experienced.  So why is it that we worship bodies that bear no reflection of the greater lessons in life?  Isn’t it true that most supermodels hit their peak before the reach the age of majority?  Why focus on a blank canvas, or a body free of experience?  I truly believe that God’s true nature is probably closer to the reflection most people see of themselves in the mirror–a body worn with experience.  Let’s go back to the definition of perfection…the full growth or development of anything, a completed state.  A life lived fully, should be seen as closer to being perfect than running away from it through growth hormones, plastic surgery or the other myriad of ways we try to look younger.  I’m not saying that we allow ourselves to waste away, our bodies are temples after all…but the obsession with youth has to stop, especially since it sends an unfair message to young people that their bodies are the standard to which all perfection should be measured.  Would I go back to the perky body I used to have?  Ah, now therein lies the rub…the temptation would be great, but seriously no, I would not.  I think I would focus on all the wrong things.  As much as I struggle with aging, it is a natural part of coming to completion…and it is up to me, with the help of God to figure out how to wrap my head around it.  Perhaps, it will mean for me that I am one step closer to seeing God.

The Big E

question markI find it a little surreal talking about evil with any real clarity because it is so weighted in stories of fantasy, monsters, fallen angels, hell and brimstone, red demons etc.   So, let me start with this:  Christian Scripture is heavy on the notion that all things work out for those who love.  Then where does the big “E” come into play?  I’ve never met the prince of darkness personally, but my firsthand experiences of evil through perhaps his minions were good enough to convince me of its existence.  In addition to be donned, the Father of Lies, I think another good moniker for Satan is the consummate actor and tailor: one who tempts us to layer ourselves in costumes and convinces us to portray ourselves as anything but what we truly are.  We then, become so deeply confused that we lose the ability to ask for the right kind of spiritual help.

For example, look at the chaos that gun violence has brought to this country.  There are those who think the government is evil because they believe their second amendment rights are threatened.  There are those who think the guns themselves are evil and that they should be eradicated.  I’m sure God has entertained prayers to abolish both.  Where then, does the true root of evil lie?  I would say the true root lies in the most fantastic misdirection of all.  First, that God has not conquered Satan yet (in classic terms), and secondly, we think we know exactly what evil looks like and what fuels it.  When Jesus died, and before he rose, we are told of a short trip he made to hell where he basically opened a big ol’ can of whoop ass.  What does this mean?  I think that the whole point of Christ’s sacrifice, essentially, is that for those who choose Him, evil cannot infect them…they have a spiritual vaccination, of sorts.  Evil is like an opportunistic virus; it cannot survive on its own, and when we accept the grace of Christ, we have a spiritual armor to protect us.  Without a willing human spirit to infect, it can never thrive.  Think for a moment, what better way to create a foothold in human lives than for evil to skulk around shrouded in disguise in order to infect our perception and cloud our vision, especially when we are at our weakest, or just before we are ready to make a huge move forward in spiritual evolution.  Evil, then, like a plague that spreads like wildfire, tries to paralyze us with us with fear so we become obsessed with how to combat it, even though we’ve had the cure all along.  And we fight it, most often in the name of God and religion.  Aldous Huxley, in The Devils of Loudoun (regarding the crusades) explains it like this:

“Those who crusade not for God in themselves, but against the devil in others, never succeed in making the world better, but leave it either as it was, or sometimes even perceptively worse than it was before the crusade began.  By thinking primarily of evil, we tend, however excellent our intentions, to create occasions for evil to manifest itself…To be more against the devil than for God is exceedingly dangerous.”

So I say, the best way to combat evil in our lives is first and foremost to practice love, and never let fear take hold of how we live our lives.  Then, and only then, will we develop the acumen to recognize, free from disguise the face of evil…I will save that for another post.

God’s Humor

teethAs it so happens, when I am able to articulate a bit of wisdom, or share a challenge of sorts… others may sit back and breathe a sigh of relief they were able to move a bit down the path of righteousness…I  just close my eyes and wait for the karmic tumble that I know I’m about to take.  Generally, it manifests itself in a couple of ways, 1) In the form of a shit storm, most often metaphorical, where I am barraged by spiritual excrement in the attempt to call  “hypocrite” and make me take back what I said, or 2) In the form of a person who makes it almost impossible to put into practice what I’ve just put out into the vastness of cyberspace.  This time, it was number 2…yes, pun intended.  Mind you, rarely does anyone put my teeth on edge like this particular person…a person who at our clinic in a full waiting room, once showed me a disgusting souvenir that his Philippino “girlfriend” sent him and was just barely able to scream at him to put it away before I vomited in my mouth.  This is a person who after bringing me to the edge of my fragile sanity so many times finally stopped speaking to me because I wouldn’t let him come over to our house and use our pool for “rehabilitation”.  Finally, I was free…of course until I shared my words of wisdom about seeing everyone through the eyes of grace.  HMMMM!  Was it the devil or God who decided to test that notion?  Whatever, it doesn’t matter…because I get it.  Sometimes it’s HARD, so hard that when I picked up the phone with my bright message of, “It’s great day at Edling Chiropractic…”  that horrible, horrible voice, forgiving me for being so inhospitable made my hand involuntarily rise to my temple and start pounding the phone against my head until the phrase, “See him through eyes of grace” popped in there.  Lord of All, I love you with all my soul…but that, my deity, SUCKED BIG TIME!  Ok, I tried.  I was kind.  I kept my boundaries.  I wasn’t mean.  I listened, even though he only called to talk about his bracket for March Madness.  I am humbled, and now I need a shower.

Prophet in the Conclave

cardinalsMy son asked me if you have to be a priest to be pope…The answer is no.  Even I could be chosen, and while there is a greater chance of hell freezing over, I wouldn’t.  But I might accept the challenge to teach those cardinals a few things.  If I were to give an intro to Prophets class…it would start like this:

Lesson One: Taking the First Step

To be a true prophet, you don’t need a pedigree…in anything. You do, however, need to say this prayer: “Honoring all the talents I’ve been given, take me down the path I need to go to fulfill my greatest purpose in life and in turn I will promise to keep walking despite the fear that wells up in my throat, the overwhelming feelings of inadequacy that I may face and the desire to give into the temptation to run in the opposite direction.” If you can say those words then you are ready. Please note, however, that once you say them…God will take you at your word. Changing your mind is not an option.

Lesson Two: What is a Prophet?

The Oxford English Dictionary defines a prophet as the inspired or accredited spokesman, proclaim-er  or preacher of some principle, cause or movement. A prophet is one who speaks for God as the inspired reveal-er or interpreter of divine will; one who is held or (more loosely) who claims to have this function; an inspired or quasi-inspired teacher. No where does it say that a prophet must have any greater handle on the truth or is better suited for it than anyone else. You must see a truth, be inspired by it and believe that it is God who is the source of that truth. What separates the prophet from a charlatan or someone of feeble mind? Nothing. Only time, commitment to the truth, and complete surrender to the divine will can keep you on the right path.

Lesson Three: What is Truth?

Is truth absolute? If it is, our human limitations probably keep us from fully comprehending it. Is the color blue still blue in the dark? Because color is dependent on light and the reflection and absorbtion of its waves to produce a color in the spectrum, perhaps it’s substance exists only in the realm of potential until light shines upon it. Truth, like color, depends on exposure to the light in the same way. The first challenge of a true prophet is to shed light into the darkest places in their lives. Sometimes the greatest truths lie hidden along side those things we try to bury in darkness. Before you begin this journey of exposure, let me comfort you by saying that things are far less frightening or threatening once you see them in the light.

Lesson Four: Excremental Vision

Once light shines exposes your personal environment, you may be shocked. Life is not as clean and neat as one might expect. Initially, it may be a shock to see how one can live a midst such apparent filth. Life, however, is messy, as is growth. Embracing the fact that “shit happens” to everyone and it is a normal part of anyone’s journey is essentially the first step in understanding it’s importance in allowing the truth to take root and flourish in your life. Growth cannot occur in a sterile environment  Dirt is essential, as well as fertilizer. The richest and most natural source? Manure. The simple decision to learn from the “shit” that is present in your life is what determines whether it will help you grow or turn you toxic. A prophet uses everything that happens to enrich their truth.

Lesson Five: A Bitter Pill

When you go through the often difficult process of uncovering and embracing a truth, you may have a tendency to tell everyone you know. In your zealous enthusiasm, you may want to strip illusion from the eyes of everyone you love, show them the error of their ways, and challenge them to change. But when you deprive them of the process, truth can be nothing but a bitter pill. Not everyone is ready to let go of illusion and face the truth. Many people may even be angry with you for judging how they live their lives…even though you both know it could stand improvement. The most effective prophet allows themselves to be transformed by truth, and then lives it. Talking about it is often too confusing. When others see the transformation in you and desire the same transformation, then it is time to talk…and yet whether or not they choose to follow the process is still up to them. A prophet is only as effective as the truth they live.

Lesson Six: Once you know, you never unknow a truth

After the initial freedom of embracing a truth, there is often a period of time when you may look back with nostalgia at life shrouded in illusion. It may appear simpler and easier in many ways. This is absolutely normal. Elevating one’s reality brings change to every aspect of life. The brain is forced to work in a completely new and different way. The best way to handle this change is to free fall into it. The phrase, let go and let God is a necessity during this period…as well as remembering the prayer you recited at the beginning of this process. Don’t fight the changes that truth brings and the transition will be easier. You will also be better prepared to face what is to come.

Lesson Seven: The Essential Nature of Things

Once you begin living in higher definition, it may become easy to judge others who live with less clarity as stupid or having little to offer you on your journey. WRONG! Everyone and everything that crosses your path is an essential element on your journey. A wise prophet understands that the big picture is comprised of smaller, seemingly insignificant pieces. Even the darkest of characters can provide an opportunity to share the light of truth. Embrace each person or event as the greatest gift. Gratitude builds hope. Hope illuminates what comes next.
This concludes first series…since I’m sure we’ll see black smoke this evening…stay tuned.

Regarding Jonah and the Non-prodigal son

I don’t know if it is God’s great humor or the hubris of Jonah that resulted in my isolation in the belly of my own metaphorical whale, but  sans the fish smell it was no less cramped, dark, and completely uncomfortable.  When it comes to the non-prodigal son and Jonah, I can completely sympathize with their tendency to mope over a last-minute save.  Today, they are my brethren.  Granted, I may be speaking in the voice of that petulant child that roars her ugly head once in a while, but the feeling of putting my ninja on and wreaking havoc on all the vipers and hypocrites and evil doers even has my rational, old soul, adult self jumping on board.  I am tired of bad people getting away with bad things and coming to Jesus to make it all right.  I wish omniscience was one of my super powers so I would have the ability to distinguish between who has really learned the hard lessons and has changed their ways and the liars who just pretend to.  Then I could  spontaneously combust the wolves with my Darth Vader like stare.  But alas, that would make me no better than they are, focused so outwardly on the sins of others that I can’t see my own.  I  did despair a bit at this awareness because Jesus has taught me to keep forgiving the bastards seventy times seventy….which is how I ended up inside my whale.  My internal rantings began to the tune of  “Walking the Line” and all the difficulties that come with that when there are so many who appear to reap benefits from not only walking far away from the line but taunt the rest of us who do…only to descend even deeper to conclude with a chorus of “nana nana booboo” while I visualized the evil doers being herded off a cliff somewhere.  The echo of all that whining bouncing off the blubber of my internal whale became so deafening that I told my internal petulant child that enough was enough already.  The descent into emotional and spiritual retardation, became an invitation to revisit why it is I choose to live by a higher moral imperative anyway.   It isn’t because I believe that I get to go to heaven, or avoid a heavy karmic backlash.  Truly, I believe it is because it makes the most sense to me.  Choosing a path of love demands certain behaviors laid out for me in the New Testament.  Jesus did prescribe a way to live in the world that will build the Kingdom of God and in order to get out of the belly of the whale I had to figure out that holding others accountable is God’s job and not mine.  The phrase, “it’s not fair” is wiped from my lexicon.  That is not to say that I won’t continue to fight for justice, rather, I will trust that Jesus’ great gift is very much alive and well even when it appears that the line isn’t even visible anymore.  I have learned a great lesson these past days and have regain a greater peace.