Lisa Colón DeLay

The first point of wisdom is to discern that which is false; the second, to know that which is true.
- Lucius Caelius Lactantius

Maybe it’s just me, but knowing what is false and true is a chief concern of life. I wonder, “Is this the best decision?” or “I’m a being self-decieved?” or “Am I being told the truth?”

We navigate life as a continual search and quest and discerning of this. On many levels, in many venues, this is a main part of being human.

We don’t arrive at this place like a time-traveler. Boom! We move there through the bumpy journey of discovery, limping. A pilgrimage of mistakes and joys. Sorrow and enlightenment. We get a bit mangled along the way too. But, the whole process is important.

God does not exist to answer our prayers, but by our prayers we come to discern the mind of God. - Oswald Chambers

In the action of praying we become. Slowly the striving turns to listening and abiding. The foolishness of our petulance and pleading matures into familiarity, knowing, and synergism.

You will feel broken as you walk this path. Don’t let that discourage you. God knows who you are. He doesn’t think of you of as a problem. He doesn’t ruminate on what is wrong with you, like you may do to yourself. God only sees what is missing that will come to bring you deep joy and shalom. Never forget that God is always at work. Often in so many ways we do not and cannot understand. He never slumbers. He never sleeps. His eyes are loving upon you. Watches over you and sings your name.

This is how we learn to know what is true.

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Have a super day, everyone!

Yes, this is the start of a Blog Moratorium in Tribute to the victims of Sandy Hook Elementary Massacre , but for personal refletion too.

It doesn’t get past me that just as I gear up to spend 13 weeks teaching about the Problem of Evil a horrifying massacre of 6-7 year olds and their teachers and staff occurs.

I have a lot of information about how Evil works right on tap. But, I just can’t go there.

I know that we all react in shock about events such as these. We ask, “How could Evil be so close and innocence shattered so senselessly?” There is rage, anger, hatred. Emotions aplenty. And I know too that Evil runs right down each one of us too. It’s never merely “out there” or far off. If so labeled it shifts, it seeps, amorphous and eludes being so easily understood or classified.

The pain is so raw. The horror so near. The terror so frightening.

A nightmare.

Too soon people have started barking about gun control, and mentioning mental illness, and our crumbling society …all looking for reasons to make it all go down easier. But, right now, I’m just heartbroken. The weight of the brokenness of the world is here and present. Christmas is coming, and yet we lie ruined. Truly ruined. Hope feels like a faint whisper barely intelligible. A wisp.

I’m taking off for a few days. No blog posts. I’m going to reflect. Quietly. By myself. Away from it all and on the interior. Before the year is out, I’ll make another appearance. Thank you for your prayer for me at this time too for things I won’t mention at this time.

In the meantime, join me in prayer for the community and families of those affected by this violence.

Dear God,

Soothe our broken hearts.

How much pain, O’ God!

We cry out in agony…undone.

Have mercy on us

Bring us peace.

Bind up our wounds

Wash us with your Grace.

Grant us the strength to carry on 

And the resolve to not give up

Renew our hope in you and grant that we may forgive

So we ourselves are spared more pain.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,

Amen

Here’s a little reminder that everyone gets tired.

Everyone gets unbalanced.

Maybe you’ll be touched deeply and start crying when you hear a rapper slinging rhymes, which is really weird, but I did that.

Maybe you’ll just feel a heaviness in your heart that you can’t pinpoint. A slow burning ache, like the weight of the broken world is pushing in and perched on your sternum.

Maybe you’ll see relationships so broken and confusing and full of turmoil that you’ll start to disconnect.

Maybe you’ll snap at your kids, or get angry at a stranger whose story you can’t possibily know.

And grace will leak away from you and your ideals will be shelved, and you’ll wonder if you’re really a person who still believes in goodness anymore.

Here’s a word for you…and for me….

It hurts to be alive.

There are mysteries we want to know but can’t unravel.

You. Will. Get. Tired.

In this sorrow we are not alone, because we are the same.

(If you’d like to share your worry today or your burden, please do. In the comment section or using the contact me tab. I’ll pray for you, and maybe you can pray for me.)

Tomb Stone (Jerusalem)

Things have been sort of heavy around here lately, with Lent, and Jesus dying and everything. Easter-wise, I think we’re in “tomb time” at this point. It’s where Jesus is physically dead from execution. Everybody in Jesus’ world has had a super crappy day. They put him in the ground, and seal it up. He’s dead. Their hearts and dreams are broken and shattered.

Jesus is in paradise or Hades… or maybe someone should explain that to me…hang on… Okay. Checked on that. If that bit is confusing to you too, try this article. (Then get back here, before I lose my train of thought.)

Anyway, I’m writing this from home. No. I should say, I’m writing this from a place where my mother lives, and where I spent a few college breaks, and one horrid 6 week summer stint before I got married almost 16 years ago. So, actually not home at all. There’s a dislocation all over.

My mom still lives here. It was her late husband’s house. A guy who wasn’t my father.

There’s a guy here, now. I call him Jerry, she calls him fiancé. They met on the computer, in February. I thought he would go back to his place by now, but it’s almost 11pm, and he’s still hanging around. We’re slated to see him, at his place, tomorrow, and most of Sunday, here. Trust me, it’s weird to be in my head, right now.

It feels much like I’m the protagonist in a very awkward Ben Stiller movie. But I haven’t had a chance to figure out my lines. The plot is sketchy. The characters are underdeveloped. I wouldn’t be able to explain it all, even if I tried. But, this picture may reveal much of what I can’t. (I’m the one on the left.)

(me with mom)

Kind of funny picture, no? Laugh for me, if you can.

So, I ate my feelings today. Which, in this case, means about a half a cup of Rasinets, and other sugar and carb no-nos. It feels like Tomb time. Things seem ruined, or broken, and altogether not right. I will acknowledge this.

I won’t shove it aside, or pretend I can’t feel it, see it, smell it. Life can really suck. (That’s a theological term. It means…oh nevermind.)

YET! I know this thing. Nothing can keep the dawn from coming.

I really like Easter and Spring. And well, life. Rebirth is also–excellent. Brighter days are ahead. Death has no victory. The tomb cannot keep us. Even the tomb of discontent, or broken dreams.

We are poised to celebrate life and renewal. Come, Lord Jesus.

I usually encourage responses to my posts. But this time, I’m just letting it all hang out without a care of that. You can do what you’d like, I just need to sit here for a while.

We not made out of such strong stuff, are we? Dust to dust.

Though at times we feel confident or even invincible, reminders of imperfection, mortality, weakness, and helplessness spring up everywhere.

Suppose you placed a lit candle in a jar–a solid jar, what would happen? A bit of light would come out through the top, yes?

Now suppose that jar was punctured, shattered and pieced back together, or cracked in places. Some could think the piece was ruined. Others would admire it even more, once a lit candle was placed inside, because the spaces would fill with beautiful light. The weaknesses of the jar would shine as the most beautiful parts, making a unique and dazzling spectacle of shapes and illumination for others to see. The specialness would be the combination of once-perceived flaws co-mingled with the luminosity and brilliance of something added to it, working through it for something altogether appreciable and precious.

Be encouraged, you broken pots out there! Never over-worry that you have made mistakes, or that you have flaws, weaknesses, gaps, and broken spots. We all do. The grace and radiance of Christ will shine that much more through you because of them, if you allow it, and let the Light work in you. Each space that you give over to the Light will be made beautiful. Christ, and his love and grace is the light that gives new hope, and a new purpose for the scars we carry, and broken parts we’ve sustained.

Light from within a beautiful fixed jar

Verses to ponder:

2 Corinthians 4:7 – But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show us that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10 Each time [God] said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

What broken space has the light shined through in your life?

Will you let all your broken places be a light for others?

What area might this be in, and how will you move forward in this process?

(all comments, thoughts, ideas welcome)

Why are we so often alone in our pain?

There is a terrible irony in the typical human’s response to pain.

Emotional, physical, or mental suffering is most often considered personal, or about one’s self, and so it is dealt with on one’s own.

A suffering person, ready to divulge their pain, may say, “This is hard to say out loud,” or “This is difficult to share with people I don’t know that well.” The pain has been internalized, and taken in, stewed.

We all do it. But now I ask “why?” Habit maybe, yet we do terrible jobs of healing ourselves. Our wounds fester and putrefy.

Outside perspectives, and the gracious love of community offer healing we can never find alone.

I wonder if the broken-ness of this world makes us retract. Maybe a flight/flight instinct is at first to simply be self-preservative. In reality, we are not alone, our pain is not unique. But, the shock, and upset sends us into hiding, or a kind of “hunker in the bunker” mode. The bitter stab, the disappointment, or the awfulness of suffering makes us fear, and mistrust, so we give ourselves no option but to withdraw, and go inward, taking the pain with us. It rarely finds a good exit. Then we lick our festering wounds, in solitude, even as we may curl back unnoticed, behind the dumpsters of the very hospital (a situation) that could being healing, comfort, and hope. Don’t we?

Could pain really be something different altogether, and we might just be misapprehending it far too much?

                         Could it be a way to lead us home?

                                       Is it a way to lead us into each others arms, once again?

Those who have been calmed and gained healing, find that healthy community is the surest way to growth, start invigoration, locate meaningful purpose, and heal hurts. How is it that so many of us suffer quietly, and alone, in the margins?

How very strange that together, we suffer alone! The irony is horribly striking. How awful too, I think, that we’ve also missed something big about others who suffer. We too often shoot our wounded, by condemnation or inattention. Or push them out, somehow, into further isolation. How coarse. How morbid. The God who welcomes the outcast, the wounded, the sick, and the sinner, mingles with them, pulls them in, and is close enough to touch their afflictions, and pass them bread.

Let us think of ways to come out of our own sufferings into the light and healing nature of community with others, God has provided. Beyond that, let us reach out to those isolated, or away from us–those silently hurting. Let us understand that they will try to handle their pain themselves, but they cannot. We can kindly be there, to hear them, offer friendship, and love. But most of all, with or without words, reassure them that no one suffers alone, not any more.

Do you have comments about suffering or isolation?

Please contribute.

If you take this to heart, and do something about it, please share that with us. Thank you.