When Dreams Come True, Part II

So many dreams and the strange way they make Your word glare as if under the swipe of a highlighter:

A "bad" one in which I was in a strange church of bumpy, carpeted catacombs that seemed to swarm outward for light years. As C.S. Lewis succinctly puts the thought: "Something had happened to my senses so that they were now receiving impressions which would normally exceed their capacity." I perceived this place in such a state. Dark, dingy, out of focus and uneven. In this place, I was wrongly used by a spiritual authority during his "sermon" while a sad and silent woman at his side telepathically pitied me. But I surprised them both, for after the service, I marched up to him, and--standing my ground--told him that were it not for my intercession he'd have suffered much for his affront to me, suffered because I belonged to One who could protect me from him, should I but ask it.

That dream is tol here only to clarify another one that grew out of it. It was one of those strange impression dreams...a single image full of spiritual weight that proves hard to define. In it, I saw before me a small, three-legged footstool. It had a warm honey-brown leather cushion on top of three legs of beautiful gleaming wood. It filled me with feelings of good. But it was stuck fast against a large ugly ottoman that was of such a nature that I knew it came from that dark catacombs "church." They most surely did not belong together, soI tried to pull the "good" little footstool away from having to touch the weighty ugly one, but I could not budge it.

A few days later, another short impression dream came to me. One that again had that expanded-senses quality. I stood in what seemed like a park pavilion, only it was enclosed by curtains that hung from high above. I looked up and realized with a spiritual gasp that often accompanies these too-large dreams that the pavilion was a good three storeys tall and the curtains spanned the full distance, hanging from rings on a pole suspended very near the roof overhang. Actually two ranks of curtains were hung: one rank of three storey white semi-sheers hung outside another rank. This second set was but two storeys tall, also on a pole that surrounded the enclosure. The taller ones were set outside the the shorter ones, making them only visible to me, now that I think about it. The curtains, although light, were so long that they moved only slightly in the breeze, and in long rippling waves like a sea. I stood alone on the cement floor of that empty place wondering why I was there. The dream ended.

A few days later, my daily Bible reading brought me across these verses that were prominent in the heart of King David: "Now it came to pass, while David was dwelling in his house, that David said to the prophet Nathan, 'See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of the covenant is under tent curtains.'" And later he said again of his plans for building the Lord's temple--and this time said to more than the prophet, but rather said to all of assembled Israel: "Hear me, my brethren and my people: I had it in my heart to build a house of rest for the ark of the covenant of the Lord, and for the footstool of our God, and had made preparations to build it." And I ponder this like it is a distant island and I on a bobbing boat.

More clearly, I understand this theme. Dreams of trash everywhere, and in more than just my own dreams. I told a friend once that God is not a God of waste. That nature reflects His nature in that everything dies one year but is somehow incorporated back into the newness of life that comes the next year.
Nevertheless, many times latelyI dream of being in a filthy environment.

First, I dream of being in a foul and dirty house ruled by the same being that haunted the catacombs dream. Only here, he is an evil clown, and this time his sad moppet woman was pegged as a tool to trick me; but again he fails, and not because I profess divine protection. Rather it seems this time that profession is being tested. But my response is don not by my own words or ingenuity, I hardly know why I am there or what I am doing. My success is attributed to sheer and detailed obedience. I make every move a physical enactment of an impression put to my mind. And in the end, these words ring out over all of us who inhabit that dream, ring from above: "The truth shall set you free!" And their dirty, over-used, rag-doll forms shrink away.

Then again, I dreamed of being in an abandoned house, one with no furnishings, but still filthy with the left-behind trash that finds its way to heap in corners and over threshholds. I consider cleaning it, but as I wander and debate, I find a the only piece of furniture left in the place: a large wooden secretary. I pull up the roll-top to discover another secret roll-top compartment smaller than the first. Lifting that one felt so wonderful and so magical to open, like finding a secret treasure. Inside was a secret spice rack. Twelve bottles of incredibly fine wood, five on each side flanking two central ones going the opposite direction, making a sort of cross. The two central ones striking me as the salt and pepper--the most prominent spices. But the oddity of them being wood. Usually such a rack has the spice jars of glass. Other dreams of wooden objects, wood where wood is rarely used and these wooden things always in dreams with a message of reassurance or of premonition. Only after many days pass do I make the connection--You were a carpenter. Things of supernaturally beautiful wood indicate their having been shaped in Your hands. And as usual, I can't help but wonder how I failed to see that from the start.

But, back to the theme of trash in dreams. Moving beyond my own night imagery, Elijah dreamed he found a secret stairway that led to a hidden sleeping man, and this all happening in a strangely trashy version of our own house. (And it would have to be pretty trashy version to make an impression of excess on him.)

And finally, the one in which I was in Our garden...the place where You, my Lord, and I have spent many a private conversation and enjoyed communion. The same place where You fed me burnished-gold fruit. And it was then and there that I was I suppose endowed with a wisdom direct from Your hand, for Solomon speaks of a Wisdom personified in the feminine gender. And she speaks these words: "My fruit is better than gold, yes, than fine gold."

But one dream in that garden found it dark and stormy. I stood within the gate, somehow knowing myself protected, but nonetheless alone, and I looked out through the bars for You. Dead leaves swirled around my feet. Dead leaves...anything not immediately incorporated back into life in that garden place was an unusual sign. How long since I had that dream: one year, or maybe two? So long to understand the purpose of the common theme. Funny how You can focus it for me in what seems like an instant, like the view through a lens grows suddenly sharp with one small turn, making everything comprehensible.

The turn of that lens began with my making such a racket through prayer and beseeching. I reached out and indeed did not find You anywhere near. I remembered a time when You were always obvious to me within an instant of my seeking. Now I go days without that sense of Your personal presence. Why? Then I feared that my own recollection was faulty. Had our intimacy ever been what I remembered? Or was my imagination playing with my memory? But like a weaned child I sat quietly while doing without You; until finally, You came and said to me: "What if it were true? What if I were no more than a cardboard dummy, and all you suffering were in vain? What would you do?"

First, my heart leaped at that familiar knowing, that sureness of Your nearness once again. But I proceeded immediately to the question You presented. "I suppose I'd turn bitter, learn to hate life, find I had to keep muddling through anyway, finally realizing that nothing had changed except that now I approached it all with a bad attitude. Then again, I could turn bad myself. Submit to wickedness for the sake of embracing the ease that comes with it--but naah...that never seemed to work for me like it does for other people."

"That was a gift," You said pointedly.

"I figured as much," I said in return just as direct.

Then I laughed while I climbed into Your perfect father-lap, and I raised my hand to touch Your face. At that moment, I had one of those jolts to my imagination that often accompany Your visits. I saw my own hand carried a scar.

Long I have gone with nothing but a memory of what You told me about that scar. In that prayer-scape, we stood together, my hand in Yours; and I asked You what this phrase meant: to get behind the affliction of Christ. To suffer for Your sake, and not for the sake of sin, but in order to cooperate with the work You would accomplish in this place. How does one experience it? How does one endure it? And immediately light pierced through Your hand and then mine.

I learned a lot in receiving that vision of scarring. First, that it came only by the sanction of Your Divine Light. Second, that it came through You first. Third, that its magnitude would be minimal compared to the rest of Your suffering, for You went even unto death and into the depths of Hell. But, it would nevertheless mark me as associated with You. This vision I had well over a year ago. Many times in the intervening days I have seem myself a player (obviously) in these settings of conflict between good and evil, but never hve I borne that mark accomplished upon me...until now. So I am encouraged even in the midst of the trials. I am encouraged to know that what was foretold is coming to be, and I am surviving.

And then this morning, I pondered these dreams and the way I have been serving as a litmus test, a sorting tool, the daughter of His people who sits in affliction while He looks for the answer to the question: Who will help? And the trash in the dreams--all that time--they told the story of these days of affliction.
One little proverb in the quiet of my morning Bible reading today.
One little proverb read in the dark while others slept.
One little proverb shattering so much confusion in the visionary world even as it lightly whispers into the peace of the functional world.
And this is it:
"Much food is in the fallow ground of the poor, and for lack of justice there is waste."
We have been fallow ground, lying in wait for the opportunity to be productive. Knowing food waits to grow, looking for the coming of spring.
And as for all the waste: it marks the days in which justice has been measured all around us, in which we have indeed fulfilled our side of the agreement, in which we said we would step behind those afflictions of Yours as You sort and measure what has been, what is, and look to what is to be.
And in every one of these justice-dreams, upon completion of that time spent studying trash comes a time of change, exploration, discovery, and fresh newness.

So Scott, I would tell you this:
You've heard me recently claiming that while I don't have a death-wish, I also don't have a life-wish right now, that life as it has been lately has held little appeal for me, especially the more I become aware of that larger reality. And even though we feel at an impasse in our joint venture into the will of God regarding what even now remains out of focus in God's plans for our futures; nevertheless, once again, my husband, I can say I look forward to the days ahead.

Taking My Own Advice...

This was my theme today. Seek God's counsel! I shouted it from the rooftops. But then I fell off, bumped along the drain pipe and the rose trellis, hit the bushes--but am finally now climbing back up there to shout again.

Unfortunately, I am surrounded by foothills marked by a sign post: "TO DO" items. So I easily, thoughtlessly forget the advice I gave in days gone by, advice I should maybe internalize and apply right now.

But as to right now, my only thought is: who could get advice from this quadrant anyway? Even getting near me would entail a climb over these math tests that need to be graded tonight so that I can stay on track to have the 9-weeks averages finished by next week. Then that seeker-of-me would have to vault over the paperwork and cryptic scraps scattered around as I've planned and created a performance order and program format for the "Fine Arts Night" next week at school. Finally, if a person got that far, a last lifting of the arms to part the paper sea that is the pile of rubrics destined to score 2 of my 3 computer classes' Publisher projects would open the inner sanctum of my personal space, where I could be found, nibbling the end of a red pen.

And if I happen to not be there, I'm most likely paying billls, balancing the checkbook or folding bulletins at the church office (my one "community volunteer" activity, so I hate to give it up.) And if I happen not to be there, then my pesky children have snagged me with their incessant insistance on clean clothes to wear and the periodic hot meal. Even my words are disjunct and disorganized. My life feels a shambles. Who wants advice from such as me!?!

Still, I gave plenty last fall at school. Claimed it was Your counsel, too, which was the truth. But as life crowded and my health waned, I failed to follow through. Now I find myself haunted by words that were on my mind this morning as I woke: do not make the Lord's counsel/council of no effect. And as You often do, You hid a play on words there: You told me to support the school kids as they asked the school to establish student body leaders: a student council. You showed me how it was from You. I professed it to everyone I could find there. But then when the ball was rolling, I turned away from it, leaving the follow-through to others, and this was certainly a premature abandonment. When will I learn to follow You all the way to the end?

You sent one of those children to me, and she was also on my mind this morning. Kara, a 16-year-old I respect exponentially more than I respect myself at her age, came to me with a story a couple of months ago. She told of a dream she had had in which she met a friend who transferred to our school; and while this friend spoke in conversation with her, and Kara heard her, she also heard the voice that spoke in the girl's head--a voice that said very different things than what her mouth was saying. Kara dreamed she helped this girl deal with the head voice. When she finished telling the dream, she asked me if I thought it was a silly one. I said no, and told her I thought it was from You. She said that was her feeling, too. She just needed to have it confirmed, I guess. I told her You were calling her to intercession...to action.

But then when I turned the conversation and lightly asked her what she had in mind for this new Student Council to do, she looked at me intently and said, "Have separate chapel services for high school and junior high. We have high school kids doing things that need advice from the adults, but because of the young ones, we can't look at these things. For instance, kids are drinking, and you guys (teachers) don't know about it." Why I didn't jump on that right away can only be attributed to a mis-guided and smug assurance that my own internal radar, blipping on Your Spirit, is all I need. That You might provide the kids themselves as a pulse point to diagnose their corporate-Body needs didn't occur to me as the outcome of this push You made for student leadership. I got too preoccupied. And now? Now permanent change has come to our student membership due to hidden wrongs that were found out by the police on a dark weekend night. The girl was right, and I hadn't listened with enough care to go into action. Would it have made a difference? Who can say now. But this I did today. I apologized to her. She needs to know that her words should not be taken lightly nor should they be ignored when they are the result of her time spent with You.

When Dreams Come True...

...it doesn't always imply a night in Cinderella's castle. I see now how two dreams--one mine, one Scott's--are coming true. How strange the way they play out in this world.

The epiphany attached to what I last blogged, all the "affliction" that has sprung up in our lives of late: a personal redefining of the idea of redemption. It is other things for Scott, things deep and profound enough I do not speak for us both much, but for myself it is this: I have embraced you as my Intercessor in those parts of me that have been dark with sin, but where I was naturally light and good, I presumed to plead my own case before God. But even these parts must come under the umbrella of the redemption, because even justified people live in a fallen world. Sounds like a small thing, but it is huge in terms of what I do with broken trust, failed attempts to do the right thing, etc. I dreamed a month or two ago that I sat in the bottom of a red stone and dirt pit, a deep dry well. It was lit by an unknown source. I knew that to be there was bad, and I knew I didn't go there intentionally; but rather than try to climb out, I simply sat on the ground, hugged my knees and waited to see what You would do. Now I have, in actuality, walked through what my soul knew in advance: I would learn to wait upon Thee in any circumstance, not just in the ones where I have a sense of a need for cleansing/purifying. I do sit in that pit and wait, without trying to climb the walls myself.

And then there are your dreams, my love. You've had several in which you serve as a type of conduit for souls. One during an airplane-crash rescue that you orchestrated, but more recently one about working in a strange pool--one in which people entered the water recreation area through a strange gate made of water. You dreamed it was given to you to determine who was allowed through the water gate, and your will swung the gate open or closed for those people waiting to enter. And I think of the parable about Christ sorting the goats and the sheep.


First, a reminder that all is not always as it presents itself:
Matt 7:21
Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.
Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?
And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.

But more to the point, as per Matt 25, we realize we have been assigned a new "character" to play in a pertinent parable's actualization, and in assuming this new role--whereas we look weaker and more despicable in this world's view--we nonetheless move closer to the higher truth of your dreams:

When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory:

And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth [his] sheep from the goats:

And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:

For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:

Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed [thee]? or thirsty, and gave [thee] drink?

When saw we thee a stranger, and took [thee] in? or naked, and clothed [thee]?

Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done [it] unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done [it] unto me.

Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels:


For I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:

I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.

Then shall they also answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee?


Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did [it] not to one of the least of these, ye did [it] not to me.

And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.

Always, any deep-heart Christian hopes ot be counted as the sheep and not the goats in this scenario, so we run around looking for the "least of these His brethren" to serve. But how surprised we are when we find our relationship with Him is so securely in His grasp that He permits us to become the least of His brethren, thereby becoming the tool He would use for sorting others, the rod that measures the temple, etc. And these things arranged by our own ineptness or fault, and not "rescued" from the strange mire by our might or power. Deeply we sense our "least" status while it is forged and actively used by the hand of God, but because we know and trust Him, we realize what His calling demands, and we draw comfort in the knowing:

Luk 9:48 And said unto them, Whosoever shall receive this child in my name receiveth me: and whosoever shall receive me receiveth him that sent me: for he that is least among you all, the same shall be great.

No wonder we are told not to think it strange the trials and afflictions that strike us. And how arduous it is coming to a place of awareness of the good couched in such a time. But times and trials will have their end; our testimony will not.

Injustice...

We're physically sick. The "attack" has finally disabled our very bodies. Bouts of stomach flu and chest colds tell the story of a germ that has hedged us in so completely that we are succombing to it: the germ of injustice. For a while, you can withstand it, ignore the symptoms, try to combat it with traditional remedies. Eventually, with continued exposure, it proves the victor over all types of health.

Exposure 1: Scott was downsized from his job but the company "forgot" to tell him, so he worked an extra week without compensation.

Exposure 2: His job change affected our cell phone usage, so we changed phone plans, but the company "lost the record" of this nerw arrangement and turned off our phone, even though we followed the agreement with the company to the very letter.

Exposure 3: When we moved due to the job change, I heard my husband call the various utilities to have us removed as the paying occupant for water, electricity, etc. at the former address. Even though this was done in November, and we moved and stopped "receiving service" before Thanksgiving, we are still being billed, with the January bill the latest to arrive.

Exposure 4: The regular land line phone "lost" our last payment, which should have actually given us a credit, and so they disconnected the phone. Fortunately, the bank got involved in this one as the phone company had cashed the check we sent. Mysteriously, the phone company "found" the payment and reimbursed us the "extra" we paid to get it turned back on...although they couldn't give my husband back the hours he spent on the phone with them trying to get it sorted out. (One phone company employee even hung up on him when he contested her comment that "You do owe the money and we're not going to turn the phone back on until you pay it!"--which was completely false. No apologies were forthcoming for either the rudeness nor the interruption of service nor for the inconvenience of our having to "justify" ourselves unnecessarily.)

Exposure 5: While Scott was unemployed and under-employed, his mom picked up our car payment. The first month, the bank misunderstood what the money was for and did not credit it to out bill. This got worked out, as best we understood. She paid a few more months payments, but apparently the bank still did not "get it." We are being told we are three payments behind and if we don't catch it up in 15 days, they will repossess the van. We're currently investigating this one, and hoping to have it ironed out before they take away my ride to work.

Exposure 6: My ex-husband is trying to get out of paying child support due to the fact that our son is finishing high school class work in March. Rather than continuing to pay for his living expenses through our son's leave-taking for college, my ex is claiming our boy can work full-time and so doesn't need his expenses paid. It doesn't strike him that he is in essence saying we should either pick up the boy's expenses completely ourselves or else charge our son rent based on his potential for having income. My ex claims he will be putting the child support into a college fund these last three or four months. His parents, however, never made him "support himself" until he was finished with a year of grad school and married to me.

Exposure 7: Scott's interim job "forgot" to credit him his commissions on his last check--costing us about $300 of anticipated income. So they paid him the commissions on the next check, but offered no extra for this late payment, even though any business that "charges" us for their service expects a late payment fee from us if we should pay them late.

Exposure 7: And for me, this was the worst one of all: at the start of the new year, I went back to full time employment in place of part time to help us with out financial woes. In so doing, I took on a math class that was being taught by someone who had never taught math and who didn't really know how to do it. They are only 1/3 of the way through the year's material, and he was giving the kids what seems to me to be inflated grades. Now as I show them what their homework and test scores earn them, they are shocked. One particular 13-year-old girl learned she was making a 58% F (she was missing a lot of homework points on assignments she didn't complete) when last quarter (before my taking the class) she was making a 98% A. She failed her state test given in the fall, so I tend to think my grade is more accurate. Nevertheless, she wrote a petitionary letter to the principal to have me removed as a teacher, claiming I can't teach and the whole class is uncomfortable with my instruction; what's more, she had other students sign it on the back, without telling them what they were signing, claiming they signed "for a good cause." All this after I'd found her a tutor, helped her rearrange her schedule to see that tutor during her study hall, and even offered her daily access to my prep time for extra help (although she only accessed this offer one time, and then only to make up a quiz she missed.) At first, her parents didn't believe she'd done this; rather they accused me of an unprofessional favoritism of other kids over their daughter. They agreed with her that I probably couldn't teach math, even though I could tally up almost 600 kids that I've taught math, and at this child's very grade level. Or I could just show them the boxful of cards and letters from kids who wrote to me about how much they appreciated me as a math teacher, and what a positive difference I made in their school lives. But even as they backed up her claim that I was not teaching the class well, they learned that the class average was actually a "B" and that maybe their daughter was not bringing home accurate information. When they saw the letter she wrote and learned the true class stats, they fell silent. I didn't receive an apology, an explanation, nothing. All I got was a child who suddenly started showing up for extra help. Her next test grade was a "C" which is pretty good considering she has a teacher who doesn't have a clue what she's doing. (says Scott, tongue in cheek.) I don't need this child or her class to validate my sense of aptitude, but I am sorely tired of being attacked for doing what in my eyes is the right thing.

So, I'm not whining? I'm way past whining. Why all this? All I know, is I'm tired of pleading my own case to You, God. I'm lifting up Jeremiah 50:34. What do You have to say in my defense?

Redemption

I stepped out of time and looked for evidence of pride.
I saw it before the days of dying man.
His name was Lucifer, and he was infectious.
And because he was infectious, pride spread.

I saw it in the early days of dying man.
His name was Cain.
I saw it in the days when the promise was made to dying man.
His name was Esau.
I saw it in the ending days of dying man.
His name was Judas.
And each of these carried his scroll that announced his act of betrayal.

First for Lucifer:
Isa 14:12 How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! [how] art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!
Isa 14:13 For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north:
Isa 14:14 I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.

and so to Cain:
Gen 4:8 And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.


paid forward to Esau:
Gen 25:30 And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me, I pray thee, with that same red [pottage]; for I [am] faint: therefore was his name called Edom.
Gen 25:32 And Esau said, Behold, I [am] at the point to die: and what profit shall this birthright do to me?
Gen 25:34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and pottage of lentiles; and he did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way: thus Esau despised [his] birthright.

and again in Judas:
Luk 22:3 Then entered Satan into Judas surnamed Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve.
Mar 14:10 And Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve, went unto the chief priests, to betray him unto them.

So I stepped out of time and looked for evidence of the result of such offences.
I looked again at these same ones.

Luk 10:18 And he said unto them, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.

And so that divine edict--
an eternal forsaking of those who manifest pride--
It was established...
And revisited.
But man was not much like an angel in his own falling.
Forsakenness was as the balm to heal his pride.
He embraced again his frailty.

Gen 4:13 And Cain said unto the LORD, My punishment [is] greater than I can bear.

Gen 27:34 And when Esau heard the words of his father, he cried with a great and exceeding bitter cry, and said unto his father, Bless me, [even] me also, O my father.

Gen 27:37 And Isaac answered and said unto Esau, Behold, I have made him thy lord, and all his brethren have I given to him for servants; and with corn and wine have I sustained him: and what shall I do now unto thee, my son?
Gen 27:38 And Esau said unto his father, Hast thou but one blessing, my father? bless me, [even] me also, O my father. And Esau lifted up his voice, and wept.

Mat 27:3
Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders,
Mat 27:4
Saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What [is that] to us? see thou [to that].
Mat 27:5
And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.

So I stepped out of time and looked for the conclusion of this
that breaks the hearts of men
when once they wake to their weakness.
And I saw its beginning:
Luk 23:39 And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us.
Luk 23:40 But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?
Luk 23:41 And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.
Luk 23:42 And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.
Luk 23:43 And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.

And so on the one cross could hang
Cain and Esau...even Judas,
Numbered
as those allowed the fruit of repentance
after days forsaken.

Because on the other cross did hang
Mar 15:34 Jesus [who] cried with a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? which is, being interpreted, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?

And so God did commune with man
yet not with the martyrs and the saints alone.
But with the forsaken.
And death began to die.

So finally I stepped out of time and looked at this
that breaks the hearts of men
And I saw its end,
but I wait to see more because
I hardly understand what I see here:
Mar 3:26 And if Satan rise up against himself, and be divided, he cannot stand, but hath an end.

Growth...

...peculiar to man, it is part of our uniqueness in the created order of things.

It seems to me a lot like turning a bend in a woodland road. Only for a moment can you see both how far you've come and how far you have to go. With only the slightest move either way, the opposite direction becomes just the stuff of memory and planning.
And again I see the wisdom locked in the Gospels.



Growth as a response to a recognized calling:
Mat 4:18 And Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea: for they were fishers.

Growth as the result of a daily interactive walk:
Mat 16:16 And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Growth in the form of spiritual awakening:
Mat 17:2 And was transfigured before them (Peter, James, and John): and his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light.

Yet when they arrived at this monumental place of perception, He anticipated that their next step of growth would not be easy, for He told the parable of a householder who chose to pay both those who worked all day and those who worked but an hour the same wage. But fairness and grace were not ready to co-exist at this stage of growth; even as He shared this tale defining grace, their minds swirled with thoughts over who among them would be the greatest in His kingdom of heaven.

Thus on the heels of this awakening-growth--a growth that sprang from their faith maturing, on its heels came another growth, less pleasant but necessary. It was the growth of the falling away, the sloughing off, the divorcing of those portions within that could not abide with the newness of life that invaded their souls:
Then came to him the mother of Zebedee's children with her sons (James and John), worshipping [him], and desiring a certain thing of him.
And he said unto her, What wilt thou? She saith unto him, Grant that these my two sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on the left, in thy kingdom...
...And when the ten heard [it], they were moved with indignation against the two brethren.

And He asked: Is thine eye evil, because I am good?
So here is that bend in the road: Behind are the steps where we learned to accept that He is good, ahead are the steps where we will learn to accept that our own eyes are inherently evil (ambitious.) We must move forward in order to leave behind us this ambition that attempts to calculate itself into our new awareness of Him.

Look behind you, James and John, and see back to the days before you believed. Look behind you, Peter, and see back to the days before you were tempted to compare yourself to your fellow disciples. The temptations were not there because none of you really calculated Him to be your Master yet.

Now look ahead, and see the road before you, where pride is broken and humility is born and the dramatic vision is made real, but so differently than you expected...with wrenching and strain and sacrifice. But remember this one thing as you make your decision to trudge ahead...all but the one of you named Judas. Remember that once this stretch of road was not even available to your feet.
You didn't think to seek a throne
until you believed there was a kingdom.
Such is the nature of growth.

Freedom...

...is a concept that has taken on deeper meaning for me lately. Sometimes when such a thing happens, I gain a sudden insight into the placement of various stories in the Gospels. Oswald Chambers advises us to "stop listening to the tyranny of your individuality," and Matthew 19 surveys that very idea.

• The Pharisees also came unto him, tempting him, and saying unto him, Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause?
• Then were there brought unto him little children, that he should put [his] hands on them, and pray: and the disciples rebuked them.
• And, behold, one (rich ruler according to Luke's Gospel) came and said unto him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?

Three episodes:

freedom tests about the law and the nature of relationships

freedom tests about pride and self-importance

freedom tests about wealth and burdensome responsibility

The tyranny of individuality...three not-so-dissimilar points of origin from which to define a point of central truth in a multi-dimensional spirit-universe.

Regarding laws of marriage, His answer was: consider why God made marriage a feature of human life.

Regarding time dedicated to children even when weighty matters press, His answer was: consider why God made children a feature of human life.

Regarding the relationship between temporal wealth and eternal wealth, His answer was: consider why God gave you wealth.

Everyone has a type of wealth and a type of bondage...particulars change, but the central truth of it remains. I've had a profound awakening to that fact this week. Because I rarely brush shoulders with ones who have truly deep wells in the domain of worldly wealth, I rarely consider the particular bondage that comes with that life. Nor do I often see the freedom I breathe that is suffocated there.

For instance, I could lay awake at night worrying over how to pay my bills, but the conscientious person of wealth could likewise lay awake at night worrying about the many people under the influence of his finances, who rely on him in order to pay their own bills. And the sleepless night's impact would be of little difference on one hand. While there are benefits and curses unique to each situation, there are nevertheless benefits and curses inherent in both. There is no escaping it. There is the self-deceptive lie in thinking that the other world is better, and there is the self-deceptive lie in thinking our own world is better. But the rich man can become callous and the poor man can become bitter. Or the rich man can become magnanimous and the poor man can become a bastion of strong humility.

So what is freedom? Do we really understand how to get it? Do we really know if we want it?

By definition, it is a broadly used term.

It can be a very good thing: 1 : the quality or state of being free: as a : the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action b : liberation from slavery or restraint or from the power of another : INDEPENDENCE c : the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous.

But it can also be a bad thing: f : improper familiarity.

Its range of application is large: from total absence of restraint to merely a sense of not being unduly hampered or frustrated.

Finally, it can imply positive change: LIBERTY suggests release from former restraint or compulsion: the released prisoner had difficulty adjusting to his new liberty

or negative potential: LICENSE implies freedom specially granted or conceded and may connote an abuse of freedom: freedom without responsibility may degenerate into license.

So how does one embrace freedom?

It is hidden here:

24 After Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum, the collectors of the two‑drachma tax came to Peter and asked, “Doesn't your teacher pay the temple tax*?”
25 “Yes, he does,” he replied.
When Peter came into the house, Jesus was the first to speak. “What do you think, Simon?” he asked. “From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes–from their own sons or from others?”
26 “From others,” Peter answered.
“Then the sons are exempt,” Jesus said to him. 27 “But so that we may not offend them, go to the lake and throw out your line. Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a four‑drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours.” Matthew 17

Synchronicities...the Butterfly

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." --C.S. Lewis

So small and insignificant seems the living parable of this thought from one of the great theologians of our day. It can be seen in those species who experience metamorphosis.

There is a forum I visit with about the same infrequency but also with the same deep warmth of heart one experiences regarding a homeplace church. A friend at that forum posted the following ideas, and they are so closely related to things I've been praying over some other dear friends...even down to the butterfly imagery...that I had to make a note of it. Also, because her words are powerful and beautiful.

On December 26, she posted:
I am not fond of the butterfly because she is delicate and cute. I am so drawn to her, who was once such an ugly a thing, desired bigger things. She found the slightest amount of courage and hope to search for just the right leaf to veil herself beneath, not knowing what would happen after that…and in her cocoon as she waited and waited, and fasted and prayed, one day erupted out of her self-made prison. Completely free, such a beautiful little creature, fluttering and flying without much effort because the gentle winds are so kind to her. She no longer “crawls through disappointment and despair,” as in the poem I have hanging on my wall. She has wings, and all her life from here on out is from flower to flower. I love her because I hope that we share something, her and I both: a story.

God.. please just change me..

On December 28, she added:
I've come to understand that I am in a place in between desolation, doubt and freedom, joy and restoration. Somedays I am walking in my inner groan and saddness, other days, in a heavenly embrace and reassurance. Visiting both lands, caught between the two. The middle place is my hope, my faith.. my growing trust in the Father..I'm getting bigger, but it's all secret. It is important that I stay in my cocoon for now, protected from outside dangers, held firmly, a safe place to grow.Until I'm out there in the open for all too see..But, I think I know how transformation takes place..It's in our feeling most empty, most alone. Most honest and real about our powerless condition.Then, something Divine happens.We are right where he wants us to be.All our grasping and reaching and arranging has stopped because it has been proved useless. We have already sewn ourselves shut. What else is there? Nothing.Just when we think it is over..we're wrong. The huge whole in our hearts is not fatal, actually, it't working for us, not against us.For now there is space for Someone greater than our doubts about Him to step in and take a look around the place. To enter into the deepest parts of you and begin His work, His healing grace. The transformation Has already been destined for you.There is nothing else, but to be consumed by the love we lost so long ago that we forgot we ever had it.And one day, after it has been just Him and you in the deepest darkest part of your soul, your eye catches a light from the outside.With Him inside of you, you've grown to big for this place...A gentle and warm assurance arrests you, as He speaks softly,"It's time.."
Love, Patience

The Sons of Dickens Meet the Sons of Freud

The talk of ghosts has come up lately. The family watched the Muppets Christmas Carol the other day, and the littlest one sought to become more informed on these strange creatures. As I think about this popular Christmas tale, I think how wise was the man who wrote it. Could we not all see such a transformation if we followed in the footsteps of Ebenezer Scrooge, for don't we all have ways we fall short of our potential?

First comes the spirit that shocks us into awareness. The one who has walked where we walk and yet has the advantage of seeing the end, the coming fall, the losses garnered on that road. The spirit of testimony. If we have the courage to hear this spirit, others will have room to speak. This step opens the door to change.

Next, the spirit of the past. When once we accept that first spirit's demand that we look in the mirror naked, without any garments of self-justification and without shifting our eyes to see who else might be in that mirror, we are ready to look back and benefit from a study of the why behind the who that we have become. This step opens the door to honesty.

If the revisit of the past is successful, we will be awakened to the second spirit, the spirit of the present. We will see with new eyes the truth of the world around us and our role in making it what it is, either for good or for bad. This step opens the door to empathy.

And should both these spirits be successful, we muster the courage to visit the most terrifying spirit of all...the spirit of the future. We are finally able to project ahead to the end of our current choices and see without delusion what could be the end of us. This step opens the door to life everlasting.

So thank you, Charles Dickens, for the story you told. May it prove true over and over again!
(and thank you University of Virginia for providing it online at: http://etext.virginia.edu/toc/modeng/public/DicChri.html )

Bless This House...The Christmas Present from My Husband

Required elements in a good story:
dramatic tension, the conflict of good and evil, and the final assessment of the story's moral being a thing that says more about the receiver than it does about the giver of the story, that is if the story has been told well. And finally, a good story will touch us because it mirrors life, right?

We as a family know a little about the larger story we have been given to walk. Currently, it is tied up in the events that relate to this new home. I mentioned it even when we first became acquainted with the house. I said it somehow made me look at things Biblical, words related to the house of Judah and the house of Joseph and their relationship.

My eldest and I talked about this during a discussion of the nature of Bible-reading. He took a Biblical literature class this fall and learned how the Bible's words are beauty. But he did not so much learn how its words are life. (How do I give you a sample of this truth, my son?)

He learned how this book is history, poetry, and a creed for soul and body health, but he did not so much learn how it is new every morning and serves as a meeting ground between two beings (the self and God) who exist on radically different planes. (And how do I give you a sample of that, my son?)

So here is a bit about this house and its people; a bit about this world and its people; a bit about that elusive word and its impact, and that should be enough for today.

When we were visiting the house in those days before we took possession of it, we noticed the cardinal windchimes on the porch. Cardinals, particularly those found in winter (as I've blogged before) have long been a sign of intimacy between God and me, so this gave us a good feeling about the place. Why even now there hangs in the pantry a calendar with a picture of a cardinal in winter to accompany my birthday month, January--so many little intimate signs connect me to God in that bird.

But a bad thing happened. One day--and it was a day when our hopes for keeping this house hit their first obstacle--we came home from school to find the windchime gone. A mystery as to who put it up and now, a mystery as to who took it away. And timing that could carry a bad omen.

"What do you think that means?" said my middle son, Elijah.
And that's the rub, isn't it?

"There is therefore now no condemnation," says the Good Book. If we are blind or of limited vision, we see only the dark. But if we have trained our eyes to see what is real, we see only light, no matter what the circumstances.

Can I tell you, my sons, about a part of that Book, the one you are only just beginning to see as a gateway to things beyond time and space? An obscure little prophet lived and spoke of these things. We live them again, but don't realize we, too, are characters in the same story he tells.

So how do we read it, infusing it into the stream of today's lives?

I read this in Amos 5:
18 Woe to you who desire the day of the Lord!
For what good is the day of the Lord to you?
It will be darkness, and not light.
I look at how the Christian bookstores sell mountains of books from the "Left Behind" series to people whose parents even years ago wore t-shirts that proudly asserted: "When the Rapture comes, this t-shirt will be empty!" But Amos cries, "Foul!" Does anyone tell us about his words?

19 It will be as though a man fled from a lion,
And a bear met him!
Or as though he went into the house,
Leaned his hand on the wall,
And a serpent bit him!
I think of how the weariness of this type of living affects us even now: just when you think you're going to "catch a break," worse calamity falls upon you. So one strong in the Lord faces the question: do you see the larger story well enough to accept that its foretelling through you is infinitely important? Will you, for that reason of having eyes that see, cooperate with the hardship? For this fulfills the meaning of the commission we receive to "get behind the afflictions of Christ."

20 Is not the day of the Lord darkness, and not light?
Is it not very dark, with no brightness in it?
21 "I hate, I despise your feast days,
And I do not savor your sacred assemblies.
22 Though you offer Me burnt offerings and your grain offerings,
I will not accept them,
Nor will I regard your fattened peace offerings.
23 Take away from Me the noise of your songs,
For I will not hear the melody of your stringed instruments.

And I have already shared enough even in my last few blogs about my feelings regarding the decline of the "sacred assemblies."

So now what to do?
24 But let justice run down like water,
And righteousness like a mighty stream.

I stand amazed that we miss these words. But if we miss these, then no wonder we miss the ones that precede them: the ones about that house of Joseph. (I notice them because of our own house's part in the story-telling around Joseph and Judah.) We should read them with intensity, and they should be what inspire us. But no, we prefer to manifest our blatant self-preservation instinct instead of realizing that we have been called to fling out the blanket of God's grace over a cold shivering people.

For Amos also says:
14 Seek good and not evil,
That you may live;
So the Lord God of hosts will be with you,
As you have spoken.
15 Hate evil, love good;
Establish justice in the gate.
It may be that the Lord God of hosts
Will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph.
So could it be that a day will come when our reach toward the remnant of Joseph will be used to measure the depths of our association with the true heart of Christ?

And what of the little cardinal wind chime? Amos tells us more to help in understanding its mysterious disappearance, and so does life. Recedntly, I saw the word cardinal in large letters...the name of a business mounted as individual blocks on a brick wall. It looked like this: CARD NAL, for the "I" had falled out of it. And for me, the message was clear as day: the "I" was to fall out of my cardinal, too. It was time for this bird to become a larger sign than just for me. The cardinal would grow, and with it my vision and my purpose as a story-teller for God.

So here is how I could interpret its disappearance: its loss is a personal one for me, a sign that I am deceived in thinking that I am chosen especially to live in this house, a sign that horrors loom ahead for me. But here is how I will interpret its disappearance: its loss is personal for me, but it is necessary as it foretells that in the days before the houses of Judah and Joseph become one house, a plumb line will be dropped, and many will be found crooked who to the naked eye look straight. When that day comes, the "priests" will drive the cardinal away, saying the same thing that this priest said to Amos in chapter 7:
12 Then Amaziah said to Amos:
"Go, you seer!
Flee to the land of Judah.
There eat bread,
And there prophesy.
13 But never again prophesy at Bethel,
For it is the king's sanctuary,
And it is the royal residence."

So, the Lord gave them what they asked for:
11 "Behold, the days are coming," says the Lord God,
"That I will send a famine on the land,
Not a famine of bread,
Nor a thirst for water,
But of hearing the words of the Lord.
12 They shall wander from sea to sea,
And from north to east;
They shall run to and fro, seeking the word of the Lord,
But shall not find it.

And so in answer to the question, why did the cardinal disappear, the answer that sounds flippant but is actually rather deep:
...because that is the way the story goes.
If the cardinal didn't leave--and by hands other than our own--the story would be incomplete. In fact, we might not even have enough evidence to know which story the little bird was helping revisit. But now we know which story we re-live. And here is the best part about visiting the doom of all apocalyptic tales. They resolve well.
There is yet more to tell.

For the story does not end with the bare hook stuck into the porch roof in the gray winter chill. My husband in his heart knew it was right to replace that sign of interactive relationship with God. Although he searched high and low for a replacement windchime to give me for Christmas, no such windchime could be found anywhere in our town, so he gave me this picture of a Cardinal windchime with the promise that one would be ordered online and would come by mail from far away. He orders this gift because even without realizing he knows the end of the story, he still knows the end of the story because his heart belongs to God.

For the larger story will happen to the people of this world--and those who expect it will fare better than those who don't:
9 "For surely I will command,
And will sift the house of Israel among all nations,
As grain is sifted in a sieve;
Yet not the smallest grain shall fall to the ground.
10 All the sinners of My people shall die by the sword,
Who say, 'The calamity shall not overtake nor confront us.'

Nevertheless, the story does not end there. The cardinal should return. For Amos closes his writings with the following vision:
Israel Will Be Restored
(cf. Acts 15:16, 17)
11 "On that day I will raise up
The *tabernacle of David, which has fallen down,
And repair its damages;
I will raise up its ruins,
And rebuild it as in the days of old;
12 That they may possess the remnant of Edom,*
And all the Gentiles who are called by My name,"
Says the Lord who does this thing.
13 "Behold, the days are coming," says the Lord,
"When the plowman shall overtake the reaper,
And the treader of grapes him who sows seed;
The mountains shall drip with sweet wine,
And all the hills shall flow with it.
14 I will bring back the captives of My people Israel;
They shall build the waste cities and inhabit them;
They shall plant vineyards and drink wine from them;
They shall also make gardens and eat fruit from them.
15 I will plant them in their land,
And no longer shall they be pulled up
From the land I have given them,"
Says the Lord your God.

In the earliest days of the church, James went to these same words as he worked to understand the relationship of the two houses...the houses then known as Jews and Gentiles. In those days, the Jews were first believing that God would accept us--the Gentiles--as another fold.
So here we are again. But I fear we are not listening as closely to God as they were. In fact, this seems an almost insurmountable change of heart for the church. Only You could make it happen.

So as for me--a simple person in a simple life, and not a person of letters to have such authority to address the world--I will lock my faith on the thing at hand. I will pray that my husband does indeed find that windchime for me. And when he brings it to me, I will hang it from that bare hook. Then in the spring I will put a pot of fragrant flowers under it. I will take myself a chair out on that porch, and I will listen and breathe as the wind carries the sweetness of the fragrance of the flowers married to the song of the chimes, carries them past me and away into the larger world.

For that is the way the story ends.

Christmas Eve Vespers

Only on a day like today does it make sense to say that the whole family plays a game of MouseTrap at 6am while gorging on chocolate for breakfast.

But I wanted to talk about last night's service, and I didn't get to it last night, so I muse on it this morning while the children explore their other gifts. It all started yesterday while I sat on the bed wrapping that same MouseTrap game and listening to the drone of voices on the TV. I was hearing Rick Warren speak on Meet the Press, talking about how--unlike the Catholic Church--the Protestant church has made a split. They are now two groups: one being the self-designated head group and the other the self-designated hands group. The liberals are the hands and feet of social doctrine, helping the poor live better lives now but putting little emphasis on the hereafter; while alongside them, the conservatives form the head group, preparing people for heaven while impoverishing them on earth by guilting these constituents into giving their last farthings for use toward vague, obscure charities. (OK, I over-dramatized it a bit. His was a more conciliatory presentation of this idea.)

I thought of my dream of how the fall of a skateboarding child would break that child's head and hands, and I wondered if the thought of these two warring factions of the church as head against hands is being more universally-given than just to me in my little dream.

And I thought about Psalm 73. Here it is Your birthday, and so we celebrate; but how does anyone really go about knowing You anymore? It is not a new dilemma:

The Psalmist says:
Psa 73:2
But as for me, my feet were almost gone; my steps had well nigh slipped.
Psa 73:3
For I was envious at the foolish, [when] I saw the prosperity of the wicked.

And I say:
I sat in a church and watched a pastor wave a checkbook from the pulpit and say, "You don't think there is enough in here? I'm telling you if you just have enough faith, God will put what you need in here so you can get that new couch!"

The Psalmist says:
Psa 73:5
They [are] not in trouble [as other] men; neither are they plagued like [other] men.
Psa 73:7
Their eyes stand out with fatness: they have more than heart could wish.

And I say:
I think of a pastor I know who feels no sense of disconnect between his life walk and his Gospel message, while I see a huge one. Am I wrong to draw attention to it? It is easily proven I believe by the fact that he chooses to live in an upscale, gated community even as he preaches about his close association with one who claims: "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air [have] nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay [his] head."


The Psalmist says:
Psa 73:10
Therefore his people return hither: and waters of a full [cup] are wrung out to them.
Psa 73:11
And they say, How doth God know? and is there knowledge in the most High?
Psa 73:13
Verily I have cleansed my heart [in] vain, and washed my hands in innocency.

And I say:
I wonder how You'll judge the righteousness of my Wiccan friend who shared the following story with me over breakfast the other day: she had to sit her children down and have a talk with them about the injustice of choosing friends based on the money they have to spend; talk to them about the soul-trap hidden in materialism. I was sad when I learned that she once went zealously by the name of Christian, but she met too many like those described above--and so in order to become more like Christ she became less like a Christian.

I wonder how You'll reward the righteousness of another friend who makes no bold confessions of brash faith in the institution known as the church, but who nonetheless hopes that Your nature is true. His is a heart after Yours, as he writes the following blog content about his recent work trip to New Orleans:
The devastation is still being uncovered here. Just today, a few miles from where we hand-mixed and poured concrete pilings, another body was found under a house. Some prefer to discuss the politics of indifference that left the poorest of the poor uninformed and unwarned until it was too late. Others prefer pick up shovels, mix concrete and pour foundations for the future. In the hours and days after Katrina, total strangers selflessly piled into cars and drove south knowing only that they would help, even if they didn't know how. Governments change, eventually. Politicians die, thankfully. People push forward, together.
And I think of how many churches I see building new lavish additions onto their already mega-structures, doing this before using that wealth to guarantee that these "poorest of the poor" have their most basic needs met with consistency. The Spirit is said to be sent to us by You as our guarantee of what is in Your heart for us...now what kind of guarantee are we being?

The Psalmist says:
Psa 73:14
For all the day long have I been plagued, and chastened every morning.

And I say:
My heart breaks over these things...for finding that floodgate that opens to the real You grows rarer every day. It shouldn't be so. But how does one condemn the church without closing the only possible gate even more firmly, crushing any remaining hope that the next generation will find You?

So the Psalmist and I both say:
Psa 73:15
If I say, I will speak thus; behold, I should offend [against] the generation of thy children.
Psa 73:16
When I thought to know this, it [was] too painful for me;
Psa 73:17
Until I went into the sanctuary of God; [then] understood I their end.

So even in my crushing grief over these things yesterday, You presented me with renewed hope in this reassurance: not all sanctuaries have shut Your nature out. Not yet.

Yesterday afternoon, we drove past fallow fields skirted by bare trees on our way to a small country church in a village whose name few would recognize. We passed small ranch-style farm houses with gravel driveways that were filled with cars, 20-25 cars packed together.

Finally in front of one such house, I exclaimed,"I can't imagine that many people got in that little house for a Christmas gathering!"

"They didn't," my husband noticed. "They're all in the pole barn."

Sure enough, the small house was set in front of a large metal barn...and it reminded me of how the first celebrations of You were made by humble people in a stable. I imagined the picnic tables and lawn chairs and kerosene heaters scattered in the barn...the tools hanging on the wall behind the aluminum Christmas tree. Brenda Lee playing in the background for the sake of the nostalgia of the elders, even as the children danced and laughed and compared her to Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Then we came to the church. There was no room in the front pews, so we sat in the back; but from there we could see everything. The late afternoon sun shone through windows that were stained glass, making rainbows of light whose sum-total was a golden glow against the creamy walls. First, my eyes grew misty as I listened to one of my sisters of the heart play the piano. She and her family were the reason we knew about this service. They invited us to it, as they were administering it. Years ago we served together in a larger church, working in music ministry with them. But several years ago we moved away from their hometown, and I had not heard her play for such a long time. Now as I listened, I remembered how much I loved to hear her. Her gift of musicianship is one of those rare ones that encompasses both technical skill and interpretive sensitivity. And tears streamed down my cheeks as I thanked You for letting me hear her again.

Then she left the bench so that a child could come and play her own introit: a heavy-handed version of Silent Night that made everyone smile tenderly. I teared up a little again as I listened to my soul-sister's husband, who serves as pastor in another Methodist church, offer the meditation as guest speaker. He spoke on one of my favorite verses:
Luk 1:45
And blessed [is] she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord.
Elizabeth gave the gift of these words to Mary when Mary was first pregnant; and indeed I have often thought of this couple as being like an "Elizabeth" to us when we have felt like "Mary." They have stood by us and supported us whenever we are reaching to believe those things that make true in us our Lord's admonishment that we "work out our salvation with fear and trembling."

And then, the third time I grew tearful was when I listened as this couple provided the special music with the help of their grown children: all four of them singing while two of them played piano and guitar a lovely, lively carol. Three generations of this family have gone into the ministry. Each generation walks with hearts that are large and eyes that are light, and I was deeply blessed to see them honored with this opportunity to share their gifts.

The service closed as Silent Night was reprised to a more adroit accompaniment, and as we sang it, we lit our candles. The sun had set, but the church walls still glowed, proving that even the minimal light of a single candle flame can illuminate a room richly when that source of light is passed along to others, and when it is treasured and kept aloft after being shared throughout the assembly. As the song ended, the gray-haired farmer who sat in front of me wiped his cheeks.

So finally, the Psalmist says:
Psa 73:24
Thou shalt guide me with thy counsel, and afterward receive me [to] glory.
Psa 73:27
For, lo, they that are far from thee shall perish: thou hast destroyed all them that go a whoring from thee.
Psa 73:28
But [it is] good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.

So finally, I say:
We have been in a family Passover celebration this last week...complete with a kick-off grounded in dreams of red-painted lintels all the way to the accomplishment of an intentional, week-long leaven fast for the entire family and a telling of why we did such a fast to the younger generation. ("So can we eat bread now?" asked the youngest one last night, and I know You smiled down on us.)
For this is Passover: a human response to a God-given edict that says: show me your belief that I, your God, will soon break a bondage, release you from the authority of a harsh power, and lead you into a new day more fabulous than you can even imagine. Historically, this responsive celebration was to be started and ended with holy convocations. For us, the ending one was this Christmas vespers service.

Many gifts were exchanged this day, but I must note that the one from You was quite tender, as You led us deep into the wilderness to find this service that still spoke about the truth of You: the humble beauty, the gift of soul song, the promise of Your faithfulness through the generations, and the sharing of the light with whoever in the world is willing to receive it.

Thank You.

An Inconvenient Truth...

...the title of the DVD sitting here on the desk beside me, but more...
the thought clanging in my mind as the ill-timed discovery of this truth that should not have been revealed on Christmas Eve...

...my ex-husband has learned our son is choosing to stop attending high school as a "mid-termer" and finish his credits in the form of a night class this spring so that he can go to work full-time in order to help us help him follow his dream of marching drum corp...a dream we are not financially set to help him realize.

...my ex-husband has cited the clause in our divorce decree that states 'That the child support obligation shall continue until such time as the dependent minor reaches his ago of majority age 18 or graduates from high school whichever last occurs."

...My ex chooses to interpret our son's decision about his spring semester as being his "graduation from high school." The legal notice I received from his attorney states: "The child support obligation should terminate on December 22, 2006. "

Without even going into consideration of the outcome...how do I talk to our son about his father's priorities? God help me.

Prayer and Prophetic Dreaming...study time

Thinking on the dream parallels I had with my son's dream...a day of contest/crisis. In my son's dream--by the eyes of a child, a broken hand symbolized the revealed path to safety and victory for the dreamer. In my dream--by the eyes of one who is weaned--the broken off hand and smashed skull symbolized a need to intervene and offer help to the innocent and confused, the aid native to the God-given maturity of the dreamer. This latent aid would be called to action when others were made aware of the danger and loss bound up in their current activity. These are the major themes of the dreams.

Now the scriptural counterpart that always comes to explain the dream imagery grows clearer. For in the dreams:

• There is a fall.
• There is an altered reality that some recognize and some don't, and so God steps in to "shake what can be shaken" in order to make more apparent that which is of Him and can not be shaken.
• There is a focus on the head and the hands.

...these made my heart beat faster when I re-read the story about how the ark of the covenant was taken away from the Hebrews when they began to exercise their faith in too pagan a fashion. God allowed them to be drawn into a testing battl wherein they uncovered their paganized trust, for they brought the ark into battle like a talisman instead of housing their trust in the less concrete but more solid proof that was their relationship with God. Is this a story to be retold? (And if so, what are we treating like a good-luck charm, the thing that we heedlessly treat as being more sure for us than our relationship with God is?)

The story as it was:

1 Samuel - Chapter 5

1Sa 5:1
¶
And the Philistines took the ark of God, and brought it from Ebenezer unto Ashdod.



1Sa 5:2
When the Philistines took the ark of God, they brought it into the house of Dagon, and set it by Dagon.

1Sa 5:3
And when they of Ashdod arose early on the morrow, behold, Dagon [was] fallen upon his face to the earth before the ark of the LORD. And they took Dagon, and set him in his place again.

1Sa 5:4
And when they arose early on the morrow morning, behold, Dagon [was] fallen upon his face to the ground before the ark of the LORD; and the head of Dagon and both the palms of his hands [were] cut off upon the threshold; only [the stump of] Dagon was left to him.

1Sa 5:5
Therefore neither the priests of Dagon, nor any that come into Dagon's house, tread on the threshold of Dagon in Ashdod unto this day.

1Sa 5:6
¶
But the hand of the LORD was heavy upon them of Ashdod, and he destroyed them, and smote them with emerods, [even] Ashdod and the coasts thereof.

1Sa 5:7
And when the men of Ashdod saw that [it was] so, they said, The ark of the God of Israel shall not abide with us: for his hand is sore upon us, and upon Dagon our god.


About this figure, Dagon. In Hebrew the name means "great fish." He was a sea idol, usually represented as having the head and hands of a man, while the rest of the body resembled a fish. The allegory of Christ being often represented by a fish, and this idol having the appearance of a fish, but being "breakable" in those places where he is nonetheless pagan strikes me. Also, that these "non-fish" parts are what I saw broken in my dream.

I found in an on-line commentary the words of Chuck Smith, in a sermon he made near Easter-time. This is about idolatry:

"David the psalmist speaks of, again, the folly of idols. He said, "The work of the heathen is vain for they take a stick out of the forest, and they carve it and they make an image like unto themselves." He said, "But though they put eyes on the little god, the eyes can't see. Though they put ears on the little god, they can't hear. Though they put feet on it, they can't walk. Though they put the mouth, it can't speak."
Then he makes a very interesting observation, and he said, "They that have made them have become like unto the gods that they have made." You see, the first observation is that men have to have a god, and many men make their own gods. But when a man makes a god, he makes his god like himself. The anthropomorphic concepts. Because I have eyes, I put eyes on my little god. Because I have ears, I carve ears on the little god. Because I have a nose, I carve a little nose. Because I have feet, I carve the feet. Because I don't have any hair, I leave him bald. But though I may take great care in carving out the eyes on my little god, those eyes never do see anything. Though I carve a mouth on my little god, the mouth can't speak. Though I may carve feet on it, it can't walk. It's a dumb little idol.
But tragically, a man becomes like his god. If your god is a dumb stupid little idol, you are becoming like your god. Insensate, where soon you no longer hear the voice of God; you no longer see the glory of God; you no longer feel the presence of God. You've become like your gods, insensate to God. A man becomes like his god. That can be a glorious blessing, or a glorious, I mean a horrible curse. It all depends on who your god is. A man becomes like his god. "And we with open face beholding the glory of the Lord are changed from glory to glory, even into the same image by the power of His Spirit within us" (II Corinthians 3:18). Hey, I'm becoming like my God. "Beloved, now are we the sons of God. It doesn't yet appear what we're gonna be, but we know when He appears we're going to be like Him, for we will see Him as He is" (I John 3:2)." "

May those of us who are receiving Your divine radio-signals remain shielded by the assurances of that verse from I John and from II Corinthians.

As for me, this is my plea to You as a gap-filler in the throes of study over what You reveal as I travel along the way that is Your Son:


Psa 86:7
In the day of my trouble I will call upon thee: for thou wilt answer me.

Psa 86:8
Among the gods [there is] none like unto thee, O Lord; neither [are there any works] like unto thy works.

Psa 86:9
All nations whom thou hast made shall come and worship before thee, O Lord; and shall glorify thy name.

Psa 86:10
For thou [art] great, and doest wondrous things: thou [art] God alone.