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Category: Spirituality
Topics pertain in some way to the unseen realm of Reality, the inner world, or the Divine, most often in a Christian and ecumenical context with the assumption that all people are in reality, beings with and of spirit.
We’re no strangers to love
You know the rules and so do I
A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of
You wouldn’t get this from any other guy
I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling
Gotta make you understand
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
We’ve known each other for so long
Your heart’s been aching but you’re too shy to say it
Inside we both know what’s been going on
We know the game and we’re gonna play it
And if you ask me how I’m feeling
Don’t tell me you’re too blind to see
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you
(Ooh give you up)
(Ooh give you up)
(Ooh) never gonna give, never gonna give (give you up)
(Ooh) never gonna give, never gonna give (give you up)
We’ve known each other for so long
Your heart’s been aching but you’re too shy to say it
Inside we both know what’s been going on
We know the game and we’re gonna play it
I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling
Gotta make you understand
You’ve been Rickrolled
&
You’ve been Godrolled
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In about 2 weeks, this blog site will be a year old. In the last 5-6 months, I’ve been trying pretty hard to write interesting, helpful, or entertaining stuff for this place, almost every single day. I’ve made fantastic contacts, great new friends, and I’ve had a good time doing it.
This is hard to admit, but, I have to confess, that I’ve been blogging mostly to build a larger reading audience. A little while ago my agent told me that I stood a good chance to have my material published, but the biggest obstacle was “lack of platform.” Lack of platform sort of means, not too many care who you are, or what you do. A successful blog can change that, and help a writer build this much-needed platform. I know there’s nothing shameful about writing a blog and hoping others read it, but my remorse at this moment is that I realize I have made it my means to an end. I’ve been holding so tight to this idea that I can generate a solid readership base to, as Pedro says, “make all my wildest dreams come true,” that I didn’t realize I was putting it before the whole point, which is to share myself and my God with others. In a real sense, I’ve thought of this blog as a vehicle to “get me somewhere,” and I’ve made it an idol. Sometimes I have said to myself, “Well, it’s really both, a vehicle and my ministry.” This may be true, and I hope things work out like this, but if my priorities or motivations shift weight, things get off balance. And they have been.
I stopped long enough for God to speak to my heart, and in my spirit, it seems “he” said, “Let it go.” I got a little panicky at first. “Completely? What? Huh? What ‘chu talkin’ ’bout Willis…er, Father in Heaven?”
Then it seemed like God nudged me, and “said,” “Don’t be such an extremist.” This threw in off a little. So, I sort of looked around sheepishly for a little, almost looking for an exit, but without trying to be obvious about it. It seems like God “said,” “You’re clutching. Stop it. Just write and stop thinking about the rest. It’s none of your business.”
This bothered me. I felt out of control. Of course, it was a false assumption that I really have control like I was thinking I had. But, then I thought about what that might feel like…to hand things over… and I tried to “put that skin on.” Even just putting it on halfway felt SO nice. Relaxing. Like the pressure was off, and leaving the room, like a smog lifting. So, I stopped that exercise midway, I took a deep breath and I yielded. I took my sweaty feet off the pedals and coasted. I waited. And nothing happened. Nothing, for better or for worse, but I felt much better.
I wanted to tell you about it, because I know I haven’t been thinking the right way. I know that has to change, and I’m turning my heart the other way. I may post less often, but maybe there will be more true joy and inspiration when I do.
I do hope many are blessed by this blog, and resources, but I’m not going to transpose the priorities anymore, if I can help it, (with God’s grace). This will happen on a heart level, and it might not even be apparent to you, but I hope that my honesty will not only encourage you to look carefully at your own priorities, and goals, but also be a way to ensure that I stay congruent to my core convictions and values, in the way and nature of my God.
It’s hard to make confessions because, sometimes, it makes you feel really weak, stupid, or like some kind of a scum bag. It’s risky. The temptation to keep on a mask, and act like things are all pulled together, can be a strong influencer. Even though it feels embarrassing, it’s still the only way to move forward, and toward shalom (well-being/peace). I’m trying to be brave.
Tonight in class Dr Buckwalter discussed how the plagues of Egypt each took on an Egyptian god. God was showing his power and supremacy to his people who had been exposed to what seemed like amazingly powerful gods, of fertility, health, etc. The final plague was a display over the power of life and death itself. This shocking plague, brought the Pharaoh to his knees, as it defeated his most powerful deity in one swift shot. He sent his throngs of free labor away.
As the nation of Israel fled, Pharaoh reconsidered. Pharaoh’s armies charged, and pinned the ambulating nation between the sea and the force of Egypt’s finest military. The sea didn’t just promise a watery interruption, but certain death. For the people of those times, and many today, the sea is still a symbol of death. Without rescue, none can survive her.
Narrative speaks volumes to us here. At the linear climax what happens? What does God do? Does he send legions of angels to lay waste to the huge army? Does he cause a sound or distraction that confuses the approaching troops? Does he smite the army with blindness? No. All these would have saved his people, and all were miracles implemented at certain times in biblical narrative. What does he choose to show them?
He shows them, that he is trustworthy. They need not even fear death. He does the impossible, and creates a dry path right through death itself. He holds back the deadly waters, and dries up the land beneath. Animals, children, mothers, fathers, fearful youth, elderly women, and all the rest can simply stroll through, and away from impending danger. This would not just save them, but penetrate them with symbolism that would hit hard–very hard.
What giants are in your way, and how might you respond with this story in mind?
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My son, as many of you know, is autistic. Change is very hard for him. He exemplifies what many of us feel at times of change, but in the extreme.
On Saturday, when he was away at a therapy program, we had to scrap our Toyota Paseo of 13 years. It was 17 years old, ran well over 169,000 miles, and finally the engine went.
Nathan had wanted to clean and fix the car (himself), and when he saw it was gone, it broke his heart, and he cried a broken-hearted cry for quite a bit. Yesterday, at breakfast he sang a song, of mourning,
“I miss you Little Car. I miss you so much. I miss you Little Car, I do…”
We salvaged the license plate, and he was happy for this. He colored two pieces of paper similar to the color of the car, and had Tim, my husband, attach the plate to it. Today, he took it to school to show his class, and tell the tale. It seemed to bring some closure for him, even as we discussed these plans.
Even though change is inevitable, it seems to me that some ritual is important to journey through change. Nathan is a good teacher. He feels things very deeply, and sometimes his tenderness, even towards machines, reminds the rest of us, that bonds can grow tight, and separation hurts the heart. It’s not something to just “get over,” but rather something to swim through, like mud, sometimes.
Below are some pictures of Nathan’s friend, and our family transportation for the last 13 years, The Little Car.
Nathan (loves legos and trains!)
What rituals, or ways of transitioning, have helped you or others during loss?
