Suit of Comfort or Mercy Clothes

So where's the water line when it comes to me?  I think it's important for me to ask this question.  But that's only the first step.  Once the question is asked, it needs to be answered honestly.  And to answer this question, I need "eyes to see".  And I will only have "eyes to see" if I am willing to hurt when I'm loved with piercing Light.  And once I find my water line, I must find it again . . . and again . . . and again . . . because it's so natural for me to lose it.  The Truth will set me free when I find my own water line.   Here's how the process goes:

I’m Stumbling in the Dark.
Groping. Lost and scared.
Crouching. Cold and naked.
Feeling unprepared.

Blindly building up defenses.
Using what is there
to cover every part of me
exposed to open air.

I’m Feeling warmer in the Dark.
Deny myself that I’m afraid.
Finding comfort and protection
in the garment I have made.

Unpleasant light from far away
intrudes to shine on me.
Darkness pierced by dim light stings!
My eyes are “eyes to see”.

And looking at myself I see
Exactly what I’ve done.
Not believing what I see.
True pain in me begun.

Light that’s dim can grow so bright.
I don’t like what I see.
Now I see the clothes I’ve made.
I know what covers me.

My suit of comfort in the Dark
so desperately contrived
covered up my naked self
ensuring I survived.

But Light came in revealing Truth.
I’m dead right where I sit.
Ironically, to keep alive
I’ve wrapped myself in shit!

My wretchedness now real to me;
but I am so afraid
to peel the stinking layers off
myself to be displayed.

The Dark? A blind subjective stupor.
The Light has made it clear.
I can shut my eyes up tight,
and drown in shit right here.

Or I can scratch and claw it off
To leave myself exposed.
And trust that God has Grace for me;
accepting Mercy Clothes.

Where was I when you were getting high?

So I've been listening to lots of music lately.  If you know me, you know I like music; but I really don't listen to it as much as I'd like to.  When I'm working in my office, I can listen to Pandora Radio (http://www.pandora.com) on my computer.  Mostly I listen to my Mozart station while I'm working.  But the other day I was listening to my Third Eye Blind station.  (I'm actually listening to it right now, too).

At one point this song "Champagne Supernova" by a controversial British band came on.  It's a cool song musically, but the words really started to bug me.  Not in a moral sense.  Not even in the sense that most people don't really know what the song really means because its lyrics are so surreal.  It was the repetitive line in every verse, that kept nagging me.  It seemed like every few seconds the lead vocalist was asking me, "Where were you while we were getting high?"  

About half way through the song I wanted to talk with this guy.  I mean, I don't know where I was while they were getting high.  They never told me they were going to get high.  They never asked me to join them.  Not that I would have joined them, but don't project your feelings of rejection and abandonment on me.  How am I suppose to know when and where you're getting high.  And what do you care where I was when you were getting high.  Frankly, it's none of your business where I was when you were getting high.  I was probably doing something productive while you were getting high.  You know, if you hadn't been getting high, you might have know where I was!

Dude!  The song just came on.  I don't believe it.  While I'm writing this he's asking me, "Where were you while we were getting high."  You know, I don't know where I was when he was getting high, but I like the song for the guitar and the melody. Especially this live version.  But these guys didn't get their money's worth of whatever they were getting high on.  I mean, aren't these emotive poets supposed to find inspiration for lyrics when they're high.  It didn't work this time.  

So my advice to Oasis is:  stop getting high so you will know where I am and you can write meaningful and diverse lyrics for your cool rock songs; or find some better mind altering substances so you won't know where I am and you can write interesting and diverse lyrics for your cool rock songs.  But what do I know?

Why HalfCup?

I'm convinced that life has a way of teaching us as we go, and it requires hard work on my part to learn the lessons I need to learn. Recently I have seen that as I've gone through life, my motivation has been to protect myself from pain rather than to learn what is true.  In essence I am my own worst enemy because I believe lies that make me feel comfortable rather than the truth which is what I need.

Our culture is of little help to us in searching for truth because it has been established over a period of time by broken people who, like all of us, have been creating a "false reality" which provides comfort rather than a "real reality" which provides completeness.

One case in point is the age old psychological question, "Do you see the glass of water as being half full, or half empty?" The question itself sheds light on the subtle lies we so desperately cling to for comfort. You see, if I can classify myself as either being a "half full" or a "half empty" person, then I can protect myself from pain. My attitude would be, "I'm a "half empty" person. I never expect much so I never really feel pain." Or, "I'm a "half full" person. It's all good! No matter what happens, I won't feel pain because every situation will always lead to happiness."

I contend that both attitudes become the foundation for a "false reality" that will eventually come crashing down. My experience has been that as I attempt to classify myself in one camp or the other, Life happens. Inevitably, the truth of what I'm seeing and feeling does not jive with the "reality" that I've wanted to believe.

That's because the truth is that the glass of water, which when full will measure 1 cup, has a half a cup of liquid in it. It is true to say that the glass if half empty, AND it is true to say that the glass is half full. There are times when a 1/2 cup of water is plenty, but there are times when it's not near enough. I am weary of my "false realities". I want to see the situations and circumstances in my life for what they really are. I'm convinced that it is only in this truth that I will find joy and be able to love others unselfishly.

I'm so glad I know I'm messed up; and I know you are too

So, a couple of nights ago I struggled for a topic about which to write. (I know that sentence would sound better if I'd written, ". . . a topic to write about." But my mother is an English teacher so I get this unpleasant reaction in my psychosomatic nervous system any time I read a sentence that ends with a preposition. I also find it challenging to begin a sentence with a conjunction, but I just did; so please congratulate my bravery when you get a chance!) Well, I never did come up with something easy to write about, so I decided to check out some of my favorite writers. In doing so, I came across this little gem of a blog: http://www.windrumors.com/22/ellul-the-shack-and-theodicy/

In short, my boy Willie is talking about the idea of a Good God coexisting with Evil. He quotes a very thoughtful French dude named Jacques Ellul and then a musician with a funny name (See Willie's comment in the blog). Here's a part of what he lifted from Ellul:

"Man is so much the prey of the powers, so closely associated with their work, enjoys himself so thoroughly to their profit, desires so much all that they offer, conceives his life to such a degree separated from God, that every approach of God, every positive work of God, appears to him as an unacceptable disturbance and finally an attack against him. When God comes to deliver him, he does not at all perceive his liberation; he protests against the breaking of those marvelous objects, which are his chains or the doors of his prison: the adoored chains. This is clearly the situation of Man."

Indeed this is my situation. There are days . . . weeks . . . months . . . years when life just plain old sucks. But this is not Life. Pain is part of Life. And as I consider my Life, I can see and feel gut wrenching pain. Some of the pain comes from places I can't control, but much of it comes from my own poor choices. And when I choose to deny the pain, no matter the source, by hiding from it, I add pain upon pain.

I'm glad I've started to figure this "pain" thing out. I don't understand everything, but I began to have Joy when I stopped trying to run from pain. I guess that's when I started trying to be real. When I'm real, I can love and be loved for real. That's pretty cool!

Anyway, here's a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. I was trying to say what Ellul said, except I was acknowledging the difficulty associated with letting go of comfort to work my way through pain. And I don't think anybody can work their way through pain unless the recognize and accept that they are loved.

Choice to Make

Tormented. Chains binding.
Seeking Freedom, but not finding.

Tormented. Chains undone.
Seeing Freedom. Afraid to run.

Tormented. Chains calling.
Hearing Freedom. Jailward falling.

Tormented. Choice to make.
Chains adore or Chains forsake.

Tormented. Freedom waiting.
Seeing Freedom. Hesitating.

Tormented. Chains are known.
Feeling Freedom. Feeling alone.

Tormented. Here I stand.
Feet in Chains. Freedom at hand.

Tormented. Choice to make.
Freedom leave or Freedom take.

Wondering What to Write

I like to write. But tonight, I'm not sure what I should write about. I mean, my wife already posts a great blog about our 3 boys. You know, the stuff that grandparents like to know. It's all from her perspective and I find it very entertaining, but what should I write about? I mean, I've got friends who blog from various cities across the globe, documenting their travels. It's all really cool stuff! Someone just saw this "really cool" old building, and this other person just hiked up a "really cool" mountain, and so and so is learning that language pretty quickly. It's all from their unique perspectives, and sometimes it's really entertaining, but what should I write about? I mean, I've got other friends who blog about their daily lives. This happened and then that happened, and there's some "great pictures" to prove it. I'm sure they really are that "cool" from their perspective, but what should I write about?

I'm really good at making stuff up. I could make up stuff and write about it. That would be fun except someone I know might read it. And it would be that someone who would take it seriously and then tell some other person about it. Then I'd start getting that weird treatment you get from people who think there's something wrong with you, but are afraid to tell you that they think there's something wrong with you.

If you think there's something wrong with me, I wish you'd just tell me. I'd rather know that you think I'm an ass than to deal with your weirdness when you're around me. There was I time when I would have not wanted you to tell me what an ass I am, but I'd rather appreciate it now. There was also a time when I would have dismissed your dis with righteous indignation because you chose to use the word "ass". Not anymore. Sometimes "those words" are the most accurate words to use. I like accuracy.

Just so you know, at this moment I don't think I'm an ass, but if you think so, please feel free to let me know. Be sure to have some good evidence though. There's nothing more assish than telling someone that they're an ass without have some solid ground from which to base your claim.

Really, right now I'm still wondering what I should wright about. I can tell you this: I'm reading a great book right now. I keep reading these two sentences over and over again: "The wisdom of the years is confusing. Only the wisdom of eternity is edifying."

That's what I want to write about. It's so brilliant, so profound, so true . . . so hard to write about. Maybe I can think of something easy to write about tomorrow.