Glory to the Father

So, I'm sitting here minding my own business, setting up slides for Sunday when,

 A WIILD VERSE ATTACKS!

Matthew 5:14-16 NIV
¹⁴ “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. ¹⁵ Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. ¹⁶ In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

Now, I grew up on this verse, I know the songs that go with it, it is nearly as much apart of me as my own DNA. But this time, a part jumped out at me.

"and glorify your Father in heaven."

Wait, what?

"and glorify your Father in heaven."

Well, no one has been glorifying God because of my good deeds, I certainly would have heard about it...

Yeah, that's the point. It's not about me, it's about God, the Father. So, I start thinking, well either A: I'm not doing good deeds (Heart Check) or B: People aren't seeing my good deeds.

Hmm, another possible factor and it involves the person I most often focus on... Me.

Have I been praising the Father when I see good deeds? 

Gulp.

If good deeds are supposed to inspire others to give glory to God, then why haven't I been doing that? I threw it in a minute ago, if you caught it.

Heart Check. Where is my heart, where has it been, what has it desired, who has it worshiped? If I can't answer those questions, then I have been ignoring my heart, and the heart wanders when not watched over.

I get so caught up in me, my wants and desires, and sometimes I look at good deeds and I only think that the person doing them is doing it for themselves, trying to boost their ego or status. I can't judge them, not when I was forgiven of so much.

I want to become a person who glorifies God for the good deeds, not one who wonders if everyone saw me do mine.

Dreamworld

“Look, it can be nice, living in a dream world, it can be great, I know that. You can hide and you can pretend that all the crap out there doesn’t exist, but you can’t do it forever because eventually whatever it is you’re running from... it’ll find you, it will come along and it’ll punch you in the gut. And then you got to wake up because if you don’t, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you. It’ll destroy everything.” -Sam Winchester

There comes a time when you can’t run any more. People have different ways of running. Some drink themselves into oblivion, others escape into drugs, physical relationships, internet and mental fantasies, the possibilities are endless. me? I go auto-pilot, and simply function. Go through the motions and hide things away. On the outside, I look ok. I’m clean, alive, well fed, but there’s things that I joke about that show the deeper struggles. A messy room, not sleeping, endless gaming, not reading, being tired, anger snaps. These things show what is going on underneath. A man should not be content in his own filth, an adult doesn’t shrink from responsibilities. My childish nature kicks in and I use it as an excuse to get away with not dealing.

Why all this depression and angst? My uncle committed suicide nearly a year ago, I attended his funeral the same day I stood beside my best friend as his best man, I was in the same suit, only a few hours separated the two events. One so happy, one so crushing. The same night I found out about his death, I had to end the relationship I thought would never end so I could have my friend back to help me through the process. I had to shut down everything so that I could wake up, go to work, feed and clothe myself, attend a wedding, and a funeral. When I was ready to process, to cry, and deal, I was numb. All the hurt and pain and anger and grief had grown cold, slimy, and gross. It was like food that doesn’t reheat well, only that can be thrown away. These emotions could not.

Over time they thawed, a flash there, a blowup here. But in general I just stewed, moped, groaned, and complained. Wishing someone would comfort me, but truly enjoying the suffering. A wall formed, and I kept people out, got distracted, or angry when they wanted to know how I really felt. I wasn’t done with my feelings and I wasn’t going to be until I was ready. I was selfish. I was prideful. I was shameful.

Now? Tomorrow I leave the only job I have ever known, I leave a place that has been a second home. It’s full of joy and pain, love and suffering, happiness and anger. Over nine years of my life, a majority of which happened there, is coming to a close. It’s very bittersweet. I feel like a man who has seen the rise and fall of nations, I’ve seen friends and foes come and go, leaders rise and fall, students continue after their masters. Success and failure. Life and death. Stories of thousands have passed through the doors. But, that chapter is closing, the door will be shutting soon. I’ve tried to walk out with integrity and grace, but that has been difficult while carrying this crapload of guilt, stress and shame.

I’ve decided to wake up, it won’t be easy, but there’s a life to be lived and dreams are for the sleeping, not the waking.    

Breaking Silence

I have remained silent for a long time, I have hidden and stewed in the filth of my own making. I was broken, twisted, and maimed. In my soul, there was no one I could explain it to, there was no one who could understand. I could not even form the words to express the agony in my soul, the tearing and roaring of rebellion and pain within. I poured out my heart time and time again, I laid myself bare to find all that I was seeking, I cried out in silence for the understanding and love and acceptance that my very being was screaming to find. My mind is not a calm and silent place, but when it becomes so, I grow terrified. When the silence comes... with it is death, death of awareness, death of compassion, death of caring, death of love. I faced the silence, and I found solace within it. I found warmth for the coldness within my heart, I thought I had found my place, in silence, in the dark. I would become a watcher, one who observes and considers, but does not act.
Time passed, and the ache within my soul grew. There were sores from my inactivity, infection had set in, but I thought the fever was warmth. I continued to allow the darkness to cradle me. Voices pulled at me, the light blinded me, I was angry and ashamed, so I hid with a smile on my face as I walked veiled among the light. Ever longing to return to the warmth of my island of self.

Then... a simple day, a regular day. I was done. I did not hear angels, or thunder, or see lightning. I just looked around and said. "I surrender."
There was nothing... there was silence...

But deep.... deep down in the core of my heart, I saw the flame, long buried, but never dead. I brought it close, and held it dear. A journey I began long ago I renewed once again, but this time I meant every word. This time I surrender not to an idea, not for glory, not for fame... but for He who... what words can describe him... Love, real brutal honest true love. Not the fluff of poison we bark like dogs in heat after, not the false acid that seductively promises what it can never give.
This is life. I am in pain, but alive. Broken, but alive. Dying, but alive. Trapped in decay, but renewing in life.
Hard? Yes! Difficult? Yes! Frustrating? Yes!
Death of self that life might abound is against the very code of our DNA, but that can be changed, one step at a time.
This is my journey.... It is far from over.

Home Sweet Home

We all know that feeling, the one where you come home. Be it from work, a trip, or just to get the mail. When you walk into home, there's a sense of peace, and security, and just safe acceptance of YOU.

Recently, I have been struggling through feeling at home. I left my home church and moved out of my parents house, this put me in a new building, a new church, (Literally a new one, it's a church plant.) But, I lost my home. I lost my place of security, yes, I still had a bed, a roof, a shower, and all my things. But, its not the same. I don't have my parents, my brother and sister, I miss my old church family, and the friends I've left behind.

This sapped me of joy, and excitement, and gave me a feeling of abandonment. I was alone in a crowd.

Then, a few weeks ago, I was driving home from hanging out at a friend's house and got a sense of... home. It was like these lightbulbs lit up in my head, and they were not places. They were people, groups of people, new families. New families where I was safe, where I could be myself, where I am accepted.

I still get to see my family, but I know I'm not so far away from the rest of my family.

Playing House

I was driving home from shopping today and I had a thought...

A majority of Christians have been playing "house" for a long time. Now, what do I mean by that? I mean, let's all sit comfortably in our comfortable chairs, dress up in costume, say the lines, play the parts, and then we'll go home and get back to "Real Life". This is the culture I grew up in, while many people around me broke that mold there were enough to infect my way of thinking and living. Infected... that's the right word. Poisoned is better.
In other countries we're shot, beheaded, imprisoned, tortured, hunted, mocked, and slandered for simply existing, quietly hiding in rooms and cellars. In America, we're embarrassing... loud, obnoxious, protesting, divided, and false. I understand standing up for our beliefs, but what happened to "¹¹ and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, ¹² so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one."1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 and "⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 and then there is "...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³ gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!" Galatians 5:22b-23
Now, I will never say ALL Christians have run away from these things... but these are the ones on the lips of the public, when Christianity is spoken of in households, and on the street corners. 

This is changing though, there is a mummer in the air, and a rumbling in the ground. The Church is getting a jump start, and passionate people are rising up. You won't read it in the news, but you'll hear it on the streets, and in the prayers, and songs. If you listen, if you've been given ears to hear, and eyes that can see. The Spirit has risen up in America, and His power is being poured out.
I have not been the perfect image of Christ, but I want to become as close as I can. I know I'm not alone in this desire, my home church family is full of people striving, and I am hearing the stories as they trickle in from other places around the globe. I'm excited to see what will happen in the next few months, let alone years, God willing I'm here!

Just wanted to share my thoughts :)

Avoiding Sleep

I avoid sleeping... when I'm not already suffering from insomnia. Partially because.... it is a part of who I am, but also because I want to avoid the dreams.
Not nightmares, I haven't had one of those in years, and it involved snakes.
But dreams... because they're interesting, and strange, and stories are happening.
Mainly... I lose track of reality in them. I wake up and I feel like Neo getting ripped out of the Matrix, disoriented and sick.
But there is a Catch 22...


If I avoid sleep I start losing track of reality anyway, I lose my sense of self and a depression sets in. I become a angry, hurting, sad, lonely shell of who I am.

I think... that this is part of why Christians struggle...
Not with sleep... but with staying close to God, to daily seek him. It's incredible, fantastic, and dreadful, and terrible. Grace and mercy, and love surround you... but all the shields are gone. You're stripped bare of all your protection and the ugly truth is exposed. You get a choice, deal with that crap now, or run and hide.

I run and hide a lot.

He finds me... asks where I am. And I choose to either stay silent, or say "I was ashamed."

I stay silent often.

Why?

Because I have an enemy, and he knows every weakness.
He lies, and cheats...
They're pretty lies, seductive and pleasing... for a moment.
The guilt...the shame... it grinds against my mind.

My sword is broken... my shield is shattered... armor is bloodied and dented.

This is where I am. Come to my rescue. Will I stay in this darkness? Can I get out soon? I'm weary. I have no strength left. You reveal your strength in our weakness... where is that strength? Will it come soon? Will it hide much longer? Am I blind? Why is my heart so hard? Why am I numb? Can I feel again? Will the world cease to end around me?

I once knew the light, but was it a lie?
Can I see the light again?
Can I see the true Light?
The One Way?
Jesus.

Grief

Grief is a strange thing.

Grief:
Grief is a multi-faceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something to which a bond was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, and philosophical dimensions. While the terms are often used interchangeably, bereavement refers to the state of loss, and grief is the reaction to loss.



It is a human thing. Animals experience change, confusion, reaction... but human's experience loss. We can feel it, sense it, taste it, smell it.
Memories bring every sensation back. Smell brings it back. Sight brings it back. Taste. Touch. Sound.
It never goes away. You lose them/it again, and then again, and again, again. It fades, but never leaves. It etches into your soul, carves a ragged gash that bleeds for what seems like forever and then scars. This happens to everyone, at some point in their lives.

I've lost all of my great grandparents and two uncles to death. I've lost friends to time, distance, difference, hurt, and anger. I have loved... and lost love. Old hurts fully scarred, new wounds fully bleeding, pain is a constant.

A mishap as a child left a scar of my head... to this day it hurts to touch it.
The scars in my heart are the same. I didn't lose my head though, when it was injured, it was just... changed. Shaped. Formed. My survival instinct is faster. I avoid danger more quickly, I flinch... often. Flinching gets me teased, but flinching has also kept me alive at times when I shouldn't be.
I gained a flinch from a scar. This is what I didn't learn about my soul until now. I thought loss took away from my soul, whittled away until hardly anything was left. Just a husk that imitated life, emotion, and feeling.
I missed the perspective, the understanding, the realizations, the new life, the hope, the gain. Loss consumed me until I had nothing but loss.
A dear friend of mine told me something someone told him once, "You have to let yourself hurt, however long that takes..." I'm good at that part, I can wallow for months, but he wasn't done. "And when you're done, you're done. You let it go, and move on." Being done, letting go, moving on. I struggle with this, we all do at some point.
God allows grief, I believe, because it grounds us. Without loss there isn't a desire for gain, and motivation would not exist.Without grief... we have nothing to express the loss. We need grief.

Not expressing grief, not showing the pain, refusing to release it from you... it creates a monster inside. One that chews away at who you are, who you want to be, and does its best to convince you that no one understands what you are experiencing. If you believe it, you become an exile... no matter how people reach out, hold you, love on you, push you. It becomes meaningless, life loses purpose and reason.

The monster made a grave error. It told me a lie I could not believe, and I ran to God. I should have been there all along, but I was lost in the fog. Now, the beast is chained, and it has to be starved. It has gorged itself on my fear and pain, I've seen it for what it is, but I am to weak to fight it. I'm not alone, I never was, and people do understand. "But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head. I cried aloud to the LORD, and he answered me from his holy hill." Psalms 3:3-4 (ESV)

I'm not doing well, but I'm also not defeated.

The wounded man, when asked how he is doing, will respond "Not good, but I am alive."

I am alive.