tornado

by hovering love

From the year 2008 through 2009 I experienced some severe “pruning” via: the loss of my mother to cancer (this involved struggling through many issues not directly related to her illness, as well as the cancer itself), the tragic loss of my brother-in-law to a car accident (leaving a wife and 3 year old son), and the painful and perplexing loss of my part-time job and relationships I had there.  This was followed by the autumn of 2009, which brought some long-standing marriage-threatening struggles with my husband to a head (struggles that did not experience resolution for several years to come).

The autumn of 2010 is when the real “darkness” began (and I thought the previous years had been hell, itself).  As I search for a way to describe my experience, the image of a tornado comes to mind, a tornado at night.  All of a sudden I found myself in a swirling force, in total darkness and completely out of control of what was happening to me.  The “tornado” had scooped me up and I was swirling in the dark, being bumped and smacked by other things (painful things) swirling in the darkness with me.  I couldn’t see what was hitting me, but it hurt each time impact occurred.  In time (what felt like forever), the swirl spit me out into the center of the tornado, where I felt like I was in suspended animation—it was dark, but quiet and calm and I realized that I was actually breathing for the first time in “forever” (the pressure of the swirl inhibited breathing).  It felt odd, surreal and uncomfortable, but I was thankful to breath.  Then, without warning, I was sucked back into the swirl. The next time the swirl spit me into the center, I gulped a deep breath and let loose with rage at God.  “What the hell are you doing to me?  What have I done to deserve this?”  Etcetera. Again I was sucked into the swirl and again I was spit into the center—always in the dark, disoriented, furious, and afraid.  “What is happening to me?  Am I going insane?  God, why don’t you answer me?  Do you even know that I’m here?”

Today, eight years later, I realize that when the tornado first scooped me up I was at the bottom of the funnel where the space inside the swirl is extremely small, tight and cramped.  My times in the quiet center were short because the space was small and in close proximity to the force of the swirl—thus, sucking me back into the swirl quickly after I’d been spit into the center.  Time seemed to move at a glacial speed, but looking back I can sense that God was slowly moving me upward in the funnel.  The base was close, intense and very dark.  As I moved upward, the center seemed less constrained as the diameter of the funnel grew larger.  It was still dark and I still raged, but somehow it seemed more spacious.

At some point (I don’t know when), I stopped fighting the process.  I could almost see humor in my condition—how could I ever have believed that I could have any control over myself, or life?  “What the f@*# am I doing . . . fighting God?  As if that makes any sense at all!  Ok, God, I still don’t like what’s happening but it’s not like I’m going to beat you or even try—so . . . this is your mess, you do what you want with it!  You fix it!”

The swirl/center alternations continued, but my times in the center seemed ever so slightly longer and the dark didn’t seem as dark.  In what felt like a thousand years, I noticed that I could dimly discern the sizes and shapes of what swirled about with me.  Surprise, surprise—these things that had been hitting and hurting me were my own idols and attachments, my own issues, my false self!  They were swirling with me and I was helpless to let them go or hurl them from the tornado.  Back in the center, deep sighs came with the realization that God, Himself, would have to take care of them, because I couldn’t.  Like my attachments, I was simply “along for the ride”.

Slowly, my times in the center became times of acknowledgment and repentance.  The attachments remained in the swirl, but I was a bit better able to see and recognize them.  The swirl and the center continued to become less dark—there was light without being light, if that makes sense.  Or maybe God was just giving me better “night vision”. Whatever it was, it was God—not me—who was responsible.

There were moments in the center that lasted for months—blissful times of sweet, tender love from God.  Then, back into the swirl—but, being further up in the funnel causes the swirl to move more slowly and less intensely than at the base, and the dark doesn’t seem to be as noticeable or bothersome.

The swirl still isn’t pleasant or comfortable, but I’m more accepting and aware of the blessings it contains.  There is a contentment and peace that comes from knowing that God has chosen to put me in the Heaven-BoundTornado of His Love—his crazy, over-the-top love. How could the tornado ever have caused me pain, fear and rage?  It is because his love is fierce and terrifying, and it always will be.  His love will not be defeated or denied—ever.  I will remain in the tornado as long as he desires me to be here.  I marvel at his amazing, uncompromising love and devotion to me, to make me all that he intended for me to be since the beginning of time—one with him.  Thank you, Abba, for your crazy, over-the-top love for me.  Make me to be crazy, over-the-top in love with you, too.

As for my attachments, I have learned a few things from the tornado.  They feel quite big, but they are really quite small.  They may go all the way back to my time in my mother’s womb (even beyond, perhaps), but they aren’t who I am and they don’t define me. They don’t need to frustrate or defeat me, either.  If I see them as friends, they can help me to a deeper surrender and trust in God.  But they must be kept in their proper place—in Satan’s hands they are weapons of destruction, but in the Holy Spirit’s hands they are tools of instruction, redemption and transformation.

 

 

entitled

by hovering love

“But so that we may not cause offense, 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.” Matt. 17:27

Jesus knew how to chose his battles. He was rather quick and unrepentant about offending others in some circumstances: when chastising the religious leaders for their hypocrisy, when clearing all commerce out of the Temple with a whip, when healing (“working”) on the Sabbath, etc. But in this passage, he chooses to pay a local temple tax that he’s not really obligated to pay in order to not offend. How curious. Why his concern about offending in this situation, but not in the others?

As I reflect on Jesus’ “offensive” actions, I recognize that these situations all reflected God the Father in some manner: his representation, his worship, his purpose and heart and work. The situation of a local temple tax is really all about Jesus and his privilege as God’s Son. As a king taxes only his subjects and strangers in his land—not his offspring—so God would not tax his son, either. As the son and heir of God the Father, Jesus would be rightly exempt in this situation. However, Jesus was quick to lay aside the privilege that he was entitled to in order to acquire and/or maintain peace and unity in his relationship with the members of the local congregation. In a world that seems to be constantly brimming over with attitudes and actions of entitlement, Jesus is impressive in his eagerness to demonstrate no entitlement by not demanding that his rightful privilege be acknowledged and honored—especially for the sake of not offending a tax collector. What a great teaching moment: for Peter, for myself and for the rest of Jesus’ followers!

Of course, this well-modeled lesson isn’t without its fun. Anyone who is of the opinion that God, Jesus, Christians, etc. don’t have a sense of humor has never considered the manner in which Jesus provides the funds to pay this tax. Go to the lake, throw in your fishing line, grab the first fish that bites and open its mouth. Voila! I hope that Peter was quick to lay aside his former practice as a fisherman by trade and practiced catch and release with that fish instead as a means of showing his appreciation towards the fish’s participation in his provision. How delightful of Jesus to provide tax money through a coin-gobbling fish.

Some situations call for corrective actions whether they cause offense or not, but what about those situations that are only about my own privilege? To what real or imagined privileges do I cling? Are there any that I’m willing to lay aside? Do I possess enough of a sense of humor and humility to quickly lay aside whatever I am rightly entitled to in order to acquire or maintain a relationship of peace and unity with others?

How about you?

preoccupied

by hovering love

“Be on guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” (Mt. 16:6)

The local religious leaders (Pharisees and Sadducees) demanded that Jesus present them with proof of his authority from God in the form of a miracle. Proof is fine and necessary in a court of law, but religion requires something called “faith” as well. I find it enlightening that the focus of priority for these religious leaders was proof, not faith, and that they were demanding it from one who had been demonstrating proofs of his power to miraculously provide and heal on a daily basis for some time. I don’t know what their preoccupation is all about, but its effect is interesting, to say the least. Jesus warns his disciples to be on the watch for how the “yeast” of these leaders and their teachings/priorities may negatively permeate and influence their lives. The disciples, however, were preoccupied with their own failure to bring any bread for lunch. When Jesus mentions yeast, the disciples assume that he’s referring to their lack of bread. Jesus has to repeat his message before they finally clue in to what he’s really talking about.

It was clear that Jesus was talking about the influence of the religious leaders—not bread—the first time. The disciples’ confusion stemmed from their obsession with their own problem at the time; therefore, they didn’t really listen to what Jesus said. In their preoccupation, they heard Jesus’ words through their own filters of fear, insecurity and doubt. They were distracted by their own concerns to the point of not being able to connect with Jesus or his teaching. As a result, they missed his real meaning and intent completely. They also committed the error of assuming and attaching meanings to his words that were completely incorrect. The disciples are not alone in this tendency. How easy it is to be so preoccupied with myself while engaged in conversation that I disconnect from the real intent and message of the other that I’m supposed to be listening to, and even imagine that I hear them say something very different than what in fact was said! The human tendency towards preoccupation with one’s self is the source of all kinds of assumptions, wrong judgments and misunderstandings that have plagued our interpersonal relationships on a local, national and international level throughout our human history.

For me, being preoccupied with my own issues and concerns is connected to how much I practice trusting God to be aware of and responsive to my needs. When I forget or chose not to entrust my cares to God, I have a tendency to obsess and brood over my concerns. Brooding is just another way of saying preoccupation, and it causes me to be less capable (or incapable) of being present to anything or anyone—God, myself, my work and activities, and others. When I entrust my cares to God, I am able to be more mindful of myself and more present with others.

How about you?

branches

by hovering love

Tree tops

moving to and fro together,

like laughing friends at a party or a bar . . . .

movement produced by the passing winds.

 

Tree tops

a community of branches laughing in the breeze;

sometimes chuckling,

sometimes a huge guffaw . . . .

moving together in all forms in between.

 

“You are a branch and I am The Vine;

           come,

                      laugh,

                                  move and live with Me!

                                                                      All My branches . . . . Come!!”

 

Sometimes the wind is so strong that the branches break;

they laughingly move and sway no longer, now they hang . . . . limp.

We don’t know why the wind does that; we only know that it does.

But brokenness doesn’t always bring death;

new leaves form,

even on broken ends.

Life and laughter begins again.

 

I have felt so broken, in so very many ways.

Show me the new leaves You are forming within me.

Cause them to grow,

and to move,

and to laugh,

and to live . . . . with You.

empathy

by hovering love

“he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place” (Matthew 14:13)

“he had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:14)

Jesus had just heard the news of John the Baptist’s death, of how he was beheaded by King Herod and his head was then presented to Herod’s niece/step-daughter during the course of a wild dinner party—all done simply to enable Herod to save face before his guests. Jesus was deep in grief over the tragic and very traumatic loss of John, his relative and ministry fore-runner, and he desperately desired to spend some time alone, quietly embracing and processing his grief. But crowds of people observed his departure and followed him on foot, meeting him when his boat came ashore in a remote part of the coastline. Jesus saw the crowd of people approaching and he realized that his plan to care for himself and his grief was not going to happen, at least not at that time. His response to this situation is both stunning and awe-inspiring to me. I might have felt angry and put out, overwhelmed and empty of anything good worth giving to others in need. “How can I be expected or even asked to take care of others and their needs when all I want to do is curl up in the fetal position and lick my own wounds? It’s just too much!” might have been foremost in my thoughts at that moment. Not Jesus; he saw them coming and he “had compassion on them and healed their sick”. Some might make the excuse that Jesus was able to respond this way because he was God, possessing super-natural abilities beyond the tendencies and capabilities of humanity, but I don’t think that’s the case. “How could Jesus respond with such selflessness?” is a good question, one worth looking inside of my own heart and soul for the answer.

I believe that Jesus’ compassion for the loss and pain of others and his willingness to care for their needs came out of the depths of his own personal, present loss and pain. The source of his compassion was not their needs, but the very depth of his own need for soul care and healing. Jesus demonstrates much more than compassion. His suffering related to the reality and experience of their suffering—person to person—and the result was human empathy in action. Empathy inspired and motivated Jesus to minister to their needs; he didn’t just sympathize with their pain, he felt it as well and his heart went out to them. Jesus’ own need for care held great value—it made him truly empathetic towards the need for care in others.

What value does the pain, loss, suffering and grief that we all experience in life have? These experiences can burden our spirit and souls to the point of bitterness, despair and death if not expressed and shared with others who can extend the grace and care needed to see us through to a better end. Suffering has value and the power to produce goodness within us, if we let it. It can make us more forgiving, caring, kind, understanding, gracious, humble and brave—both for ourselves and others. It can make us more human in the very best sense and demonstration of the word.

I sense an invitation from Jesus in this story: “Don’t deny or hide from suffering, let it do its work and allow that work to be good, for your own benefit and for the benefit of others that I will lead along your path.” As I have opened up my suffering to God and the gentle care of the Holy Spirit, I have found there is always a reason and purpose in my experiences of suffering. When I have suffered, God has often led another person along my path later on who was suffering as well. The care that I received from God in my suffering could then be expressed through me to the other in need of similar care. My desire is to let suffering perform its good work within me so I’ll be open and prepared to allow God to care for others through me when the opportunity presents itself. No gift, blessing or suffering in life is for me alone—all is given and received for the purpose of being shared with others, as well. That’s what it means to be truly human.

psalm

by hovering love

God is my “safe place”. I am always tucked safely within God, whether I’m aware of it or not. God is my “safe place”.

So why do the simplest daily struggles send me reeling as if I were being tossed about by a hurricane? How is it that the least struggle or smallest surrender rocks my foundations like an earthquake?

When I catch myself freaking out over the big, as well as the small, of life on planet earth, I feel so silly. I have experienced God as my foundation and security when my life was shattered, broken and dangling by a thread.

When I remember all that God has done for me, I sense the soothing peace flowing through me that is the Holy Spirit and I am grateful. God dwells within me, and I dwell within God—if my life does shatter, I will not face it alone. I am encapsulated within his shield of protection. God’s devastating grace goes before me each step of the way.

Nonetheless, each day I am attacked through thoughtless words and deeds. Misunderstandings abound as a result of my impatience, as well as that of others. The intentional cruelties of mankind are not strangers to me. I am relentlessly caught off guard by the sins that seem to own me. Nor am I able to escape the humiliating consequences of my own stupidity. My own unkind memories mortify me.

But I am not a lost cause. God brings the truth to light, destroying my many falsehoods. God refreshes my frazzled soul, bringing hope to me when I have none. God quiets my spirit and causes me to grow. He convinces me that he alone is God, and his love for me is unstoppable.

My soul breathes deeply, and my harried thoughts are stilled. Trust in God has become my power, and my heart is flooded with peace.

God is my “safe place”. I am always tucked safely within God, whether I’m aware of it or not. God is my “safe place”.

Psalm 46–in my own words

 

form

by hovering love

“When Jesus rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons.” Mark 16:9 (TNIV)

“Later he appeared, but in a different form, to two of them out walking in the countryside.” Mark 16:12 (The Message)

Jesus was doing many things in a “form” that wasn’t expected or anticipated by his 11 remaining disciples, and they were struggling to hear, accept and believe any of it as a result.

For 3 years, these 11 men had been the cool guys, the ones whom Jesus has called especially to be his disciples, his go-to men. Were they now to believe that if Jesus had arisen from the dead, that he would appear to a woman and two followers who were insignificant enough to remain unnamed before he would appear to them? After all, they were the guys! How could Jesus treat other mere followers in the same manner as them, let alone give them precedence? Their stories of experiencing Jesus alive again couldn’t possibly be valid—the 11 were Jesus’ leaders; certainly Jesus would always appear to them first! Not to mention the question of Jesus appearing “in a different form” to the two country yokels. What, on earth, was that all about? Really!

What, indeed! How intriguing! How many different and varied forms does Jesus appear to people in – in the past, the present, and the future? When he speaks to us through a “different form”, do we recognize it as him, hearing and receiving his message just the same? Do we pay attention and listen, or do we quickly disregard it because it doesn’t look or sound as we know Jesus to look and sound like?  Are we open to recognizing and receiving what Jesus is saying to us through art, nature, cinema, circumstances, social atmosphere, novels, animals, technology, etc.? Do we recognize and receive what Jesus is saying to us through our fellow human beings, especially those who are different from us in some way (gender, age, nationality, culture, language, religion, socio-economic status, sexual orientation, education, temperament, occupation, etc.)? How about when Jesus’ actions go outside of the “normal way of conducting the business of life”? Do we cling to our attitudes, opinions, customs and chains of command, or do we receive and embrace a new way to live and be?

Apparently, Jesus can and does take many forms in his effort to inspire and encourage all of humanity. Apparently, those forms are frequently not what we can imagine, expect or anticipate. We humans are creatures of habit, and we frequently resist letting go of our attitudes and understandings, don’t we? I wonder if that’s why Jesus comes to us in different forms—to assist us in letting go of our own ways and receiving his?

confidence

by hovering love

“Some, though, held back, not sure about worship, about risking themselves totally.” (Matthew 28:17, The Message)

“ . . . instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:20, The Message)

“I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20, The Message)

What was the nature of the disciples’ doubts? Did some of them feel anxious about regarding Jesus as being divine? What was their understanding regarding the Messiah; what had they been taught all of their lives since they were children? Did they understand Messiah to be God, or God’s chosen man (like one of the prophets: Elijah, Moses, etc.)? Certainly if Messiah were merely a man, it would be inappropriate/blasphemous to worship him! And what were they to make of Jesus now? They had seen other men resurrected before—they were men before death and they were men after resurrection (ex: Lazarus). Jesus looked and spoke and behaved no different to them after death and resurrection than he did before. It’s no wonder they were filled with a wide variety of uncertainties and doubts!

Our old ideas, understandings, traditions and expectations are deep set, and they stubbornly dig in their heels when confronted with the new, unimaginable, and inconceivable.   Is this perhaps why Jesus specifically charged them to speak and teach only that which Jesus had commanded them (not a combination of his commands and the teachings and traditions of their youth)? What Jesus was and what he commanded were well outside the traditional religious “box” (that is why he was killed). Was Jesus establishing a crucial distinction between old and new in his charge of his disciples?

How could Jesus give his disciples this charge with confidence, knowing that they were filled with uncertainty and doubt? No doubt, Jesus did believe in his disciples, having faith in and trusting them to do their best. But what was the source of his confidence in them? He knew they would make every mistake in the book, over and over and over again. Jesus’ confidence that his disciples would progress well came from the fact that he knew who he was, what he was and what he was doing. He also knew that he would be with his disciples (past, present and future), directing them every step of the way, moment by moment right up to the end of the age. Jesus has confidence in his disciples because he fully knows his disciples and he fully knows himself.

As a disciple of Jesus, I am thankful and grateful that Jesus knows who he is and what he’s about and that he has confidence that all will be well as he guides my every footstep through all the uncertainties of my life, heart, mind, body and soul.

intentional

by hovering love

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me.” (John 10:27, TNIV)

“My sheep recognize my voice. I know them and they follow me.” (John 10:27, The Message)

“I and the Father are one heart and mind.” (John 10:30, The Message)

There is a distinct difference between recognizing and listening. When I was raising my children, I was very aware of the fact that my teens were capable of recognizing my voice without actually listening to what I was saying. Trust me, they take after their mother.

I find it curious and helpful to read the Bible in various translations. The Message implies that all Christians recognize Jesus’ voice; the TNIV implies that all Christians listen to Jesus’ voice (verse 27). Curious distinction, isn’t it? I sincerely hope that both are true, but I doubt the latter. To recognize Jesus’ voice is purely a gift given by God. To listen to Jesus is a gift as well, but it is also a choice – an intentional choice to be open and receptive to hearing even that which I don’t anticipate or desire to hear.

Jesus both recognizes and listens to his Father’s voice. Is that perhaps why they are one heart and mind (verse 30, The Message)? If I chose to listen, as well as recognize, could I also experience being of one heart and mind with the Trinity? This is what I long for – to be of one heart and mind with the Trinity.

How serious am I about listening to Jesus and really hearing what he has to say to me today? I’m serious enough about receiving the gifts or benefits that I anticipate that go along with recognizing and listening, but I’m not as certain about my commitment to making the choices and doing the work of being intentional in listening. Quite frankly, I even have doubts about receiving what I hear – I suspect that I will rarely receive the benefit that I anticipate. Therein lies the rub. I long to be of one heart and mind with the Trinity and yet I resist. All I can really say is, “Holy Trinity, have mercy upon me!”

As I listen for Jesus’ voice now, I hear him say, “My darling child! You always have my Love. Remember that truth each moment, and walk with me.”

coffee

by hovering love

“You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world.” (John 8:23)

To use a metaphor, the Bible is like a beautiful letter sent by God to introduce himself and to develop a relationship with all of mankind. Repeatedly expressed within the words of this letter is the following message, “By the way, I’m at the corner coffee shop each day from 6:00am to 10:00pm. I’d love to share some conversation and/or amiable silence with you anytime throughout the day. I have special insights for you about your experience of this day and how I want to share in each moment of it with you. I would be so pleased if you spend some time with me.”

Jesus, himself, spent much time in quiet conversation alone with his Father. Even though Jesus knew the “letter” by heart, he also knew that he needed to listen to what the Father had to say to him each day, moment by moment. Jesus knew that he could not live through each day in a way that would please his Father without being fully aware and attentive to his Father’s voice throughout the day. If this is true for Jesus, how can it not also be true for Jesus’ followers? Sadly enough, this isn’t often the practice of those who claim to follow Jesus. Many Christians (myself included) focus our attention and motivations in life upon the Bible’s words alone without ever going to the coffee shop to actually meet with the Author in person and spend time in quiet, intimate dialogue with him. We work hard to familiarize ourselves with these words, scrutinizing and memorizing their locations and definitive interpretations, without allowing ourselves to become equally familiar and intimate with the One who sent these words to us in the first place.

Jesus is coming from a completely different place than I do: physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I am earthly and earthbound; Jesus’ living experience and perspective are far beyond my horizons. I long to know and experience Jesus’ life and perspective but my horizons are too low and small. I fear what is beyond my very limited and limiting horizons, but if that’s where Jesus lives and is taking me, then I want to go. Reading and treasuring the words of the “letter” are helpful, but I can’t share in Jesus’ life and experience if I don’t share in his practice of listening for the Father’s voice and direction each moment of each day.

So how will I go through my day today? Will I just “read the letter”, or will I intentionally meet with him for coffee and personal, intimate interaction throughout the day? How mindful and aware will I be of God’s presence with me today? Will I even hear him as he shares his loving insights and desires for me today? Will I take the time to please God by being attentive to his voice in my ear today?

I have a sense that Jesus is speaking to me now. He’s saying, “Don’t let my letter replace me as God. Respect and honor my letter, but follow me! I am the way, the truth and the life – not my letter!”