Look again

I was reading John 9 today and stopped on the first few sentences where the disciples question Jesus about a blind man.  Jesus says that he was born blind so that the works of God might be manifested, made manifest, displayed (depending on translation) in him.  Then Jesus heals the guy.

This is often interpreted that Jesus was referring to what he was about to do...heal him.  But I've never liked that explanation.  So God would make this guy an abject beggar for his whole life in a society that viewed disabilities as the results of sin and therefore often rejected the disabled, just so one day far into the future, Jesus would walk by and have the opportunity to heal him instantly?

I don't know, but that seems pretty cruel.  I could almost rather buy the Hebrew explanation that his parents must have been guilty of some grievous sin rather than think that God would subject someone to so much pain and suffering just for the one moment we get recorded.


If Jesus did mean the man was just an opportunity for him to heal, what about all the other people who are in the same boat, but don't get healed?  Are they actually the ones born in sin?  Are they just purposeless?  That makes it seem even worse!

So if that doesn't wash, what else could he mean?  I checked the Greek and it means just what the English says, "should be manifested".  So not much help there. 

The story goes on to describe how the man went to show himself to the priests, required for admittance back into society.  They grill him about what happened.  The man is surprisingly witty back to them, wisecracking on them and making the famous statement paraphrased, "I don't know about all that, I just know I was blind and now I see."  He even goes on to "teach" the know-it-all Pharisees some logic, which really doesn't go over well.  Eventually the man meets Jesus again and after a couple questions, showing a very sharp mind, the man believes that Jesus is the Christ.

This makes me think, maybe Jesus means the man was born blind so God's working in him could be shown.  Look at the guy's attitude!  Where does a blind beggar learn to reason and wit like he does?  Where does he get the guts to repeatedly insult the priests that everyone else, including the man's own parents, are terrified of?

Could it be that Jesus was saying this man was, dare I say, blessed to be blind because it made him more open to what God wanted him to be?  Being unable to pursue the rat-race trappings of life, he grows in truth.  Being already disregarded by society, the "rulers" have no power over him.  He doesn't fear anything they can do to him.  Having experienced their hypocrisy first hand, he "sees" through it more than most.

Could this be why Jesus ends by saying he came so that the blind will see and those who see will be made blind?  This fits well with Jesus' continual habit of turning the social and political structures of his day upside down.  We had it twisted and he was untwisting it.  The man we all despise is the best one of us, freer, bolder, stronger, eyes or no.  And all the things we build up around ourselves to define who we are and show how we stack up to others are utter stupidity.

Pain

Pain is an incredible teacher.  For one thing, you can't ignore it.  If you think you can, then you don't know the capacity a human has to feel pain.  I'm talking about physical pain.

I was recently knocked down by something I didn't even know could happen and which is so painful, I've only experienced one thing more so.  I have hurt so bad from one particular ailment that I come very close to blacking out, which would be a blessing, let me tell you.  This is not as bad as that, but nearly so.

Thank God there are specialists who can relieve this pain in a simple procedure.  The procedure itself hurts and continues to for a while, but the cured hurt is different and more bearable.

I'm not going into details because pain is a very relative phenomenon.  If I were to tell you what it was, some of you would think it's no big deal.  Perhaps you may have even experienced the same and it didn't bother you as much.  This would lead you to judge me, even if in a very small way.

But this is exactly what I wanted to write about.  I tend to be, and used to be much more so, ascetic and willful.  I tend to believe we can endure, not be weak, so forth.  After experiencing such pain, internal, external, physical and emotional, I am becoming much softer and genuinely compassionate.  This time, I have learned to be more understanding of the relative nature of pain.  What hurts each of us is different and we can't know how much it hurts another.  What we may disregard may be excruciating to another.

I have often been guilty of silently and openly judging, belittling, and even mocking other people's pain.  Most people would not call me a monster, but I know myself and I am seeing this aspect more clearly now.

I hope to never experience these pains again.  I will take precautions to avoid it.  But I pray I will NEVER in ANY case make light of what another feels again.

I may not know how to respond.  It may even seem silly to me.  But I hope I can keep this experience as a reminder that I am not as tough as I like to think.  That I can, at any moment, be taken out by the smallest and most sudden thing.  And that there is no objectivity to pain--what someone feels is real to them.

They may actually feel it stronger than I do.  They may just not know how to cope with it and therefore it feels worse to them.  Fear may intensify the actual physical sensations.  But regardless, the person feeling it is the only one who can judge.  I now understand even more deeply the meaning of mercy and sympathy.

I have also been helped in this time in a humbling and genuine way by someone who does not have to.  It has not been pleasant or easy for them.  It is a pure act of love.  Experiencing this has crushed my pride and roused such a deep, deeper love in return.

There are huge universal truths at work here that my words can't even approach.  But then that's why we must experience rather than just talk about things.  It's the only way to learn.

To the one who helped me, I will love you forever.  There are no words to express my gratitude.

To the doctors who can and did help in such short order, and who followed up with me just to see if I was ok, you are what medicine is about. Thank God for you and I hope you will share that perspective with a thousand other doctors.

And to anyone I have wronged by belittling, downplaying, or misunderstanding your pain, I am truly sorry.  I can't go back.  But I will pay it forward...or to use the archaic phrase, I have repented.  I will make right the wrongs I've done and honor the good done to me by doing 10 times better for whoever I cross paths with, God help me.

And if you are in pain, know you are not alone.  I will ease it in whatever way I can.  If you know me in person, I will not turn you away.   If this blog is our only interaction, know that each word is fortified with intention and love for you.  I trust that the Source of all goodness, who is at this moment and always making right every wrong, will provide what you need most in this very moment...now.

Whisper

I look up from my place and see the Shepherd coming in.  He sits down.  He seems tired.  My belly hurts.  I crawl over and place my head against his thigh.  He rubs my head behind my ear and under my chin.  It feels good, reassuring. 

Then he kneels in front of me and takes my head in both his hands.  He gently lifts my eyes to his.  Then he lays his forehead against mine.  His eyes match mine, his nose on top of my nose.  He whispers some words.  I can't understand them; I am just a dog.  But they sound wonderful, mysterious, full of meaning.  I wish I could understand them.

Then I feel the words pass into me; from my ears and face they go all the way down through me and into my belly.  And the pain there stops.

Judas

I've heard many people talk about Judas in different ways.  His name is synonymous with betrayal, even outside of Christian circles. Teachings on him range across the spectrum. But most tend toward decidedly negative.

Here's the thing that doesn't make sense to me though.  God chose him.  It couldn't be otherwise, and Jesus actually says that.  He also says that he was doomed for destruction.  He says it would be better for him not to have been born.  Really!  This is Jesus talking.  The guy who picked up the adulterer and turned away the people who would kill her for her faults.  The friend of drunkards and traitors.  Now he's saying this guy is less than dust?  Doomed by God to the worst fate of any human ever?


OK.  So some people reason around that by saying it was Judas' free will.  He could have chosen otherwise.  So what we're seeing in Jesus' statements is his foreknowledge.  But Judas could have chosen another path, and didn't.  So he's up the creek on his own account.

But then, what about forgiveness.  Just like the adulterer.  Am I to believe that one particular act could so define my eternal existence that I could be the most pitied soul in the universe?  What kind of pressure is that?  Good God, there's no hope for me, then!  Sure, I've never had the opportunity to turn God Incarnate over to a tortuous death...but I would have!  I've mocked. I've turned away.  I've outright refused him as much to his face as I can get in this world.  Yet I know in my deep places the feeling of peace and forgiveness I receive from God.  Why doesn't Judas get the same from the unchanging God?

No, I would argue that he does.  I don't know Judas.  I could speculate on his personality and motives.  Many have.  But that's all pure fiction.  We don't know.  He could have been a misguided zealot, an addict who couldn't control himself, or Satan's own henchman.  None of which would entirely be his own fault, and thereby giving God some responsibility for his creation with whatever neuro-chemical damage he may have had.  I don't know.  But the only way I can make sense of it is to remember that God is love.  Jesus exemplifies forgiveness.  Whatever the reason, Judas played a pivotal role in history and one that none of us in our right minds would want.  (Sure if you don't believe Jesus was who he claimed to be, you might think differently, but we're not redefining the story here.  We're taking it as it is presented.  So if you're one of those people, pretend you aren't for a second and stay with my thinking long enough to get my point.)  So I don't think Jesus is condemning him.  I think he's pitying him.

Nothing fits these facts better than the model of a father, which conveniently, pervades the Bible.  No good father wants his children to experience pain, to be sick, etc.  But some kids are not well.  Some make terrible choices that impact themselves and others.  Some are given hard fates that must be dealt with.  But through it all, a father wants to protect and heal his children.  Even through grievous self-chosen wrong.  What father wouldn't put his kid through rehab to get him clean?  Even as he screams and cries for more of the poison.  Or worse, who wouldn't bash his kid over the head if he was caught in the act of a rape?  You'd still love and pity that kid, want to get them help, but that hurt needs to happen.  If you think you'd just disown them, that's still proves my point.  Sometimes the pain is so great you have to turn away and leave the kid to their own mess for a while.

So it's clear to me that Judas is not to be envied.  But he stands to me as the epitomy of what our faith is about.  And I would not be in the least surprised to find he has a very special and protected place in deep in the bosom of God where he can heal and be free of unwarranted pain.  If this is not so, then like Paul, I say we Christians are to be pitied above all men.

Answer?

Last night, I was thinking about how churches often drive for participation.  I've discussed that on this blog at length.  But as I've alluded, I rarely jump to conclusions.  So even though I am staunchly opposed to coercive participation, when faced with yet another instance of it, I still find myself stepping back, and thinking, "Am I the one who's wrong?"

It's always a possibility.  Especially when one finds the same message occurring repeatedly, it's wise to take note and analyze again.  So, I found myself mulling this over as I went to bed.  Remembrance of times when I've tried to buy in and go with it, only to end in disaster.  Debate amongst messages I've received, verses I know, Truths I hold.

And so, as I tried to turn off, I asked God to show me the answer.  And I fell asleep.

So this morning I awoke with two vivid dreams in my mind.  As always, some details are fuzzy, but the important part of any dream is what isn't fuzzy.  In the first, I was going about some business or other when a highly contagious disease began to be noticed among people.  It was subtle, really, starting with few symptoms that were easily misinterpreted.  Tiny red spots, etc.  But if untreated, it ended in death.  It quickly became an epidemic and was still spreading.  I found myself trying to spot people with the disease and help them in any way I could.  At one point, I ended up with a sort of clinic that was set up like a pizza delivery.  Drivers were going out on calls to provide aid, or bring in patients while the doctor and office staff kept calls coming in and treated patients.  I stepped in as a driver and spent the dream taking errands to bring aid, help the sick, bring them in.  I remember being slightly concerned that I may be infected, but didn't have time to be concerned.  I might be infected anyway and these people certainly were.  They needed help.

In the second dream, I was volunteering at a church camp.  I went to sign up and was explaining my experience with education, even coordination, and program development.  The staff seemed too busy to be interested, but when I mentioned education, they started jargoning about educational theories, statistics, etc.  I realized I couldn't possibly keep up with that, since I wasn't a classically trained educator.  But I knew how to work with kids.  So I stepped in and began to relate to some waiting kids.  Then we were ushered into a big room where activities were underway.  I tried to hang on and be useful with no idea what was happening or what I was needed to do, as I've done many times in church ministry.  And that's when I started looking for the red spots again.  I knew some of these kids must be sick.  I needed to find them.  To help them.  I woke up from this.

It was soft morning and I immediately began to think about the dreams while they were fresh.  They didn't feel like my normal dreams...not fueled by my health condition (which produces a characteristic type of dreaming), not the usual amalgam of recent experiences.  It wouldn't be the first time a dream had directly answered a prayer for me.  But any dream could also be my own thoughts.  So I searched for confirmation.

That's when the words of Jesus came to memory, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick." and "I came to seek and save that which was lost."  Could that be right?  Did this really apply here?  Was it my imagination pulling together relevant information?  I felt moisture drip down my cheek.  I touched my eyes.  They were wet.  This is often confirmation for me.

I thanked God for answering my prayer.

Then I woke my wife to tell her and see if she confirmed it as well.  In conversation, I became more certain.  This was a reminder of what I had known.  I know my mission, and it is not in vane.  Religious organizations and ministries will churn and that is not my concern.  The secular world will churn and that is not my concern.  Both are equally irrelevant to the task.  The sick are among us.  The disease is rampant.  Symptoms are slow but definitive.  But I am to look for them, and aid where I can.  This is it.

The aid will take various forms: comfort, support, steering toward healing, taking to the Doctor, bringing medicine to the sick.  I don't have to think about being infected.  I just have to help.  I don't even need to cure the disease.  And I'm not alone.  There are many doing the same.  We know each other when we see, but keep at our work.  It compliments each other and we know what to do in this effort.

And if by chance the pizza delivery has a physical manifestation, I'll keep my eyes open.  But the context doesn't matter.  The disease doesn't respect persons or status.  So the cure can't either.

Horse

"But a false sense of power, a sense which had no root and was merely vibrated into me from the strength of the horse, had, alas, rendered me too stupid to listen to anything he said."

The quote above is from Lilith, by George MacDonald.  In this scene, Mr. Vane has been defeated and tricked by Lilith, and Mr. Raven is taking him to his house from which he fled in the first place.  Mr. Raven summons his horse, which is dark and spectral yet powerful beyond knowing to ease the journey of the weary Vane to his house where he must sleep.  Vane and the horse instantly bond and once on his back, Mr. Vane decides to leave Mr. Raven against his advice.  Raven cautions it will be to ruin again.  And then this quote.

The book in general is already one of my favorites ever and I haven't even finished it yet.  It has been speaking to me in so many ways.  But this line struck me today.

In this blog, I have recorded mere months ago the sense of triumph and power that I had been feeling.  While I had known it was from God, and not of myself, I, like Vane, couldn't help feeling as if it was mine.  When in fact it was only borrowed...no, not even that much possession.   The power was no more mine than is the strength and stamina of a powerful horse on which a man happens to sit.

Even then, in my deep heart I knew it would not last.  But how my vanity has cost me.  What damage I may have wrought in myself, my family, and those I love.  Feeling emboldened like never before I took actions and harboured feelings of authority that were not mine.

To the casual reader, this will seem different than it is.  I don't mean that I did any overtly egregious thing.  In fact, like Mr. Vane, my intentions were all honorable and above board.  I would fix what was wrong where my influence fell and would use this power to do so.  I didn't even "fall from grace" in the sense that we use it for leaders who make a public mistake.  No, it is far subtler.  Far more difficult to see, and therefore all the more damaging.  Like the loose screw in the engine that is so easily overlooked and yet once failed, will bring down the entire machine.

And yet in this realization, I am not even crushed.  Repentant, yes, falling on the grace which saved me, and intent to be better and to learn, but resting in the knowledge that it is ok.  My failing has not one bit thwarted the will and plans of my God.  He will right all wrongs and preserve His children from undue harm.

Perhaps I am also McDonald's stupid philanthropist who would use the grace given me to spare those within my influence from the very thing most needful: that which would be the vehicle of their healing.

All traces of my vanity must die.

Through the Roof

In common usage, this phrase means something other than what I mean.  I'm talking down not up.

I was recently reading the story of the friends who lowered the paralysed man through the roof to see Jesus.  In the story, they tried to get him in to see Jesus in hopes that Jesus would heal their friend.  But they couldn't get through the crowd.  So they went up on the roof, and it says they actually dug a hole in the roof to lower the man down.  When Jesus saw their faith, he said the man's sins were forgiven.  This of course sparked controversy with the religious leaders who questioned Jesus, so he healed the man to demonstrate his authority to also forgive sins.

What struck me in this story is the friends.  First they took a friend there.  Imagine the scenario.  In this time, handicapped people were considered to have sinned or to be bearing the punishment for the sins of their parents.  It didn't just happen to people in their minds.  So to be friends with this person was a thing in itself, but not outside of reasonable understanding.  We see this today in similar forms.

Healers in that day were also fairly common.  Historic records talk of this thing periodically, so it wouldn't have been all that strange for a healer to pass through town and draw a crowd.  In days before modern medicine, this was a significant hope for people.

But what really gets me is the ingenuity of these friends.  This is where I resonate with them so strongly.  They could have just waited their turn and hoped patiently to see Jesus, but they weren't content with that.  The need of their friend took precedence over everyone else's needs in their mind.  Wow.  No one teaches that!  I'm not saying they would deny everyone else their chance, but they weren't going to be content to passively sit back.  They had a hope of helping their friend and they were going to make it happen to the greatest of their ability.  Their attitude was not to sit back and patiently wait on God.  They were pushing in and when they couldn't get in, they came up with something else.

I wonder which one had the idea.  They're looking at each other.  The paralysed friends is probably speechless or consoling them that it's ok...they tried.  But one of them looks over up at the roof.  Maybe there were stairs to a flat deck, maybe it was just a thatched roof that they had to climb up on.  But one of them says, "what about up there?"  Were they all in agreement, or did they have to argue it.  Was one the driving force that had the great idea or was it a group of mischievous friends?  Were they scrappy working men who built houses and knew what to do or did they figure it out as they went?  However it happened, they ended up on the roof.

There they found the spot where Jesus was and then began to tear out someone's roof!  Was this an easy repair or something that would take work?  Did they have a plan to fix it later or did they just act and leave the consequences for later?  Mark says they actually dug through the roof, which makes it seem like it wasn't simply removing a few palm fronds.  It could have been abode or dob.  This would be making a serious hole!  Even if it was thatched, you don't just pull off some leaves.  To make thatch water-tight it has to be thick and well hung.  It's also no easy thing to repair, since you have to layer the thatch from bottom to top up the roof slope.  So either way, these guys did some property damage.

Imagine the owner's reaction when he sees his roof torn out and this hole opening up in it!  How would you react?  These guys could have been arrested or charged with criminal activity.  Surely they knew this to some degree.  But it didn't stop them.

And their action was rewarded.  Jesus was impressed with their faith.  I have never been encouraged to act the same way.  No one has ever taught me to help a friend at all costs.  The closest I've ever encountered is teaching about sacrificial giving, but that is even watered down into simply giving more than we would like to a ministry.

But these friends demonstrate real human faith.  We don't even know how they felt about Jesus.  But if there was a chance their friend could be healed, they did everything they could think of to make that happen regardless of what happened to them.

This is the faith I want to live.  This is the faith I am living.  God has called me to it and I have committed.  These hands, this mind, these dreams, ingenuity, creativity, blood, breath, words, money, materials; everything in my power is given to this.  I will tear out roofs, make roads, and go to my death in this cause, God help me.  Try me and see.

Run

Today I ran.  I run nearly every Friday.  Just me.  In the woods.  No shirt, low tech minimal shoes.  I don't run alone though.  God runs with me.  I can feel the Spirit Lord rush behind me, through me, over me.  Meet me at a bend, whisper to me, shout to me.  I follow his voice.  I run until he stops me.  Sometimes I run fast and hard. Sometimes I run slow.  Sometimes I pause.  Sometimes I am dropped on my butt in awe.

I don't just run.  I also climb, jump, balance, swing.  I am the animal I was made.  I am in tune with my ancestors.  I can feel their joy in me.  I interact with the real world.  Today I ran with deer.  Bounding around me along the trail.  I have argued with hogs.  I have followed raccoons.  I have petted armadillos.  I am becoming less a threat to them and more a part of their world.

I learn too.  Today, I vaulted the table again.  Twice.  I had been hampered by my own mind since falling hard several months ago.  I knew I could do it, but couldn't manage it.  Today I did it.  It was awkward, but successful.

I also ran up a new tree.  Four steps, nearly vertical, no hands.  I have tried many times.  This was the first.  I ran and ran.  I got two steps.  The next time I ran harder and got three steps.  But still not high enough.  Today, I got nearly there.  Then I decided to stop climbing and run the whole way.  The realization settled on me and I felt the flow engage as I focused hard on the first foot plant.  Then lifted my eyes to the end goal and I was soaring into it.  Beyond it actually.  It will only get easier from here.

It was the same with the side jumps.  Jump horizontally from one vertical surface to another.  I could manage one side and then slowly learned to land the other.  Now I can jump from one tree to another and continue forward motion.

This is the physical manifestation of my spiritual discipline.  In this practice, I am healed and made whole, even as my body aches.  Even the rips and tears in my skin, the bruises, the sore muscles are healing.  They are part of the warrior.  I am a man and need to feel physical pain to be wholly who I am made to be.  It confirms I exist and that I can survive.

I am this thing called man.  Half spiritual, half physical, ruler of the natural world, heir to the heavens.  When I run, all is merged into one whole and it is good.

Fast

It's been a while since my last entry because I've been busy with some things. I was having headaches again so I decided to make an appointment with the doctor. The doctor I'd been going to couldn't see me for months (sidebar: what's the point of limiting the number of patients a doctor sees if you still have too many to get an appointment within a few days? American medicine needs major reform.) So I had to find another doctor. Fortunately my insurance is pretty good and allows a lot of flexibility, so I found another that came recommended and went.

This turned out, like most things, to be a blessing in disguise because this doctor is WAY better. She actually practices medicine instead of guesswork. Where the previous doctor would say, "could be X...try this." and repeat endlessly, this doctor actually runs tests and verifies assumptions before acting. She also has a much more holistic expertise so instead of saying, "well I'm an X-ologist, so I think it has to be X-itis"...which incidentally makes me want to pitch them from the window! Why would I pay all that money and time to have them do what I could do on the Internet! Their license should be revoked!... anyway, this doctor actually cultured my sinuses and then prescribed an antibiotic that she knew this infection was sensitive to. She also recognized symptoms of another complex condition and suggested a two-part course of treatment.

The long and short is that the root of most of my health issues is allergies. Apparently people who are highly sensitive to things like I am don't often exhibit classic allergy symptoms to most of them, but the constant state of physiologic stress does other things to a person. They will spiral down into other allergic sensitivities, depression, malaise, aches...even the acidic stomach condition I had is caused by allergic reactions, mostly to things we eat. In fact, even IBS is now thought to be linked to it. What I discovered in my confirmation research on the doctor's opinion was that many things which doctors traditionally call "mental" or "stress-related" could in fact be equally as likely the polar opposite. The mind-body connection goes both ways, so what I was thinking was a psychosomatic condition may very well have been a physiologic condition that was causing the other problems.

God is wonderful. He is answering my prayers in His time and in ways that I could not imagine. This doctor is confident that she can turn off my reactions permanently, and even more so that she can reduce them through this course of adaptive management...which rings so true with my own scientific understanding.

So one of the first things I had to do was a serious elimination diet. I had to purge myself of all the reactions. This meant cutting out everything I tested positive to and anything else that could potentially have a problem. I basically ate whole foods I prepared myself. Nothing from a package because of hidden additives, nothing with unknown spices. Meat, certain grains, certain fruits, certain leaves. That's it. She warned me that it would not be easy and that patients often go into depression because of it. I knew from my cold turkey refined sugar halt a few years ago that there can be weird withdrawals and I steeled myself to endure.

I prayed that it would be a fast to God. An honoring of Him with my diet. And you know what, while I have missed a few things, there have been no cravings. Coupled with the almost immediate changes in my overall condition, I became even more assured. I began feeling things that I have, seriously, no memory of ever feeling before. You might not understand this, but I had to ask my wife what was happening to me because I had never known what the pangs in my stomach were that occurred just before meal times. I had never known what it is to be sated and steady in the stomach and then to have it gnaw and growl on regular intervals when more food is needed. I'd seen it on TV, but I thought it was dramatization. There have been many other such changes and awakenings.

Now I am in the stage of slowly introducing single dietary elements to track reactions. The end goal is to widen my diet to a comfortable level. But I already know that I won't go back to eating like I did. This suits my natural bent so much more. It suits my spiritual bent. It's like when I discovered Parkour as the physical element I'd been seeking...I know this is now a lifelong fit. It forms a puzzle piece that locks into my being. I don't need a wide diet. I'm perfectly comfortable eating a few simple things all the time. It is how most of the world lives and I am no better than they. I don't want to fear what I eat. I am comfortable rejecting mainstream culture in this, not in a fad way, but in a real necessary way. When something makes you sick, the appropriate reaction is to not want it. To do otherwise is a form of madness.

So I know I have a long way to go. I'm just setting out. But I feel so much better. I am committed to this process. I'm surrendering yet another aspect of my life to the redemptive power of Jesus and it requires a radical alteration of my life. And ironically, (actually not, since this has happened in other areas as well) it has nothing to do with the sort of teaching we get from most religious leaders, not getting morally right, not just believing. Quite the opposite actually. It could receive this only after God told me that I must trust the science and medicine. He reminded me that science was created to describe His character just as theology was. He told me to stop relying on works-based systems, faith-healing hocus, and prayer alone. Now I wasn't going around buying prayer towels and stuff, but I was convinced that I God would take care of me and that it was His will that I was where I was at. But God showed me once again the truth I had believed and forgotten: There was a man of faith in a flood who didn't evacuate when told it was coming. A truck came by and offered him a ride, but he refused saying God would save him. The same thing happened as the waters rose and a boat, then a helicopter came. Then the man drowned and asked God why He didn't save him? God replied, "What do you mean?! I sent the truck, boat, and helicopter!"

Intensity

The last few posts have been whiny. It happens. This blog is about my raw reactions to life, so sometimes it gets that way. But I crossed a watershed. Suddenly, I didn't feel that way. I'll probably go there again sometime. But hopefully for not long. Life is not about finding some static place. It oscillates around a central tendency.

I realized that in my low time and doubts that I had forgotten something I once believed. Funny how that happens. God is the God of reason and science and ecology and medicine as well as faith, mystery, etc. These things are not foreign to him, but part of him and from him. I can accept these things and accept him. I know that sounds silly if you aren't in my head, but I don't want to spend too much time on it.

I also remembered that intensity must come out. Not everyone can handle the soft, safe, easy world we create. Some of us need conflict, physical pain, a quest, a cause. We need intensity. I am the poster child for "not everyone", so I feel confident in this. Some of us don't need more hugs, we need an occasional fist. We don't need to sit and be calm, we need to get up and make an impact.

I know this doesn't make sense to everyone, but if you find yourself falling into blahs of gray mindset. Go challenge yourself. You'll be surprised at what you can do. And you'll be surprised at how little it takes to change your mindset. But there needs to be a couple of elements: real danger, and realistic expectations. Without the real danger, the trial is not real. It is hollow. Another Disney version of life. You need to have the very real possibility to get bloody...and that may mean literally. I'm not saying be reckless. But it won't work if you play it too safe. Secondly, you need real expectations because this is not a video game or a movie. You won't be able to take that wall down, or lift that car, or hit that target, or climb that thing, or land that jump, or run that far in one or 10 or 100 attempts maybe. This does not mean you failed. Push yourself to your limit, and then push a little more. And then look at what you've done.

For me the best part is that the world quiets down in these settings. There is only the need of the moment. All else become distant. And the real world comes out. Here's a story. Every week I tear myself to shreds in the woods. It's Parkour training, Tarzan style. Natural movements, climbing, running, jumping, stripped as bare as I can make it. I go get lost in the woods and run until I can barely run anymore. I have no comparison except myself. I know what I did before and what I do now. Slowly I am getting faster, more confident in my steps, more stamina. And then this week after getting much more lost than I intended and running for far longer than usual to get back out, I was almost done with my legs seizing and my back tensing and my feet feeling heavier and heavier. Then I saw a deer on the trail running away from me. I heard in the back of my head a voice say, "chase it!" So I pulled my strength together and ran hard and quiet (which is hard when you're tired). The voice said, "run like your ancestors did!" and I ran fast. Then I saw where the deer had darted into cover and there was no more sound. I knew it was there watching me somewhere. I looked and looked, stifling my breath. Then I saw it looking back at me, not 20 yards off. We stared for a moment and it realized I was not going to kill it. Then it turned and bounded off. I had run down a deer! A real deer! Just like my ancestors and yours have all done. If I had needed food, I would have had it at that point with a quick prayer and arrow. In that moment, I had connected with primal human existence. The kind of existence where God walks beside us and there is only what is. I felt powerful.

So if you know someone who needs this, help them get out. They may not need coddling. Maybe they need regular doses of what is real and primal. Come with me if you want. Learn what you really are. Not this soft lump of mediocre flesh, but the hardened beast that walks upright with sharp mind and sharp eyes, fierce and wise and just. If you feel this pull, it's your birthright. Claim it.

Recovery

I have a suspicion that sin takes a while to purge. Or rather that it takes a while for us to heal from the effects of certain sins.

Of course many people don't even recognize sin. They don't understand the word. I don't want to go into a big treatise on the definition and philosophy of the concept, so suffice to say that it is wrongness. Acts of wrongness and just wrongness in general. If that doesn't work for you, then I refer you to the tomes on the subject. I will assume going forward that you know what it is and accept that it exists.

So when I commit certain sins to which I am prone, I have noticed lingering effects. Even though I believe that the price for those sins has been paid and that I am forgiven, even though I have repented to the best of my ability...which is really nil.

...ok I have to sidebar here a little...I don't believe that we have anything to do with the forgiveness of our sins. I know that, "if we confess our sins he ...will forgive us and cleanse us..." But I don't think this establishes a sort of spiritual transaction in which God's graces are contingent upon our behavior like many people believe. This is simply a new face on the Jewish law and the substance of most popular religion world wide. It's Karma in a broad sense. If this were true how could anyone ever come to God? We are separated before we know otherwise. If he didn't reach to us first, there would be no connection. Plus he has forgiven us, "while we were yet sinners" and there is "therefore no condemnation." The references go on and on. Suffice to say, we are forgiven period. Everyone is. It's our own rebelliousness that forces the charges to be held to our own account. The door to hell is locked form the inside. End sidebar.

Even though I know the forgiveness, and am learning not to interpret my own self-condemnation as God's wrath, beyond that, there are certain discreet factors which noticeably improve in the area surrounding the sins (and no I'm not going to say what they are) the further away from it I get. The longer I go without falling to it again, I notice those affected areas improving.

I suspect it might have something to do with the residuals of the sin itself. Since sin is a negation of what should be, it may have a sort of cancerous effect on the spirit. It's a subtle thing, as with most truths...but there may be something to this.