Discontented Purpose

The White Which: "Give me your hand Edmund. I can make you a man. 

You can be my king. Together we can rule all of Narnia once again."

In the final battle of the new Narnia Edmund is faced with a tempting offer. It isn't the first time that Edmund has been asked this question. In the first movie he takes this proposal and it ends up costing Aslan's life to free Edmund. And ever since evil found his weak spot it has tried time after time to appeal to his Achilles heel, to the want of his heart. 

Edmund hearts desire is to be a the king he once was. In all honestly, who can blame him. He ruled for years as High Prince of Narnia only to get thrown back into puberty. To be a man trapped in a teenager's body and having to follow such rules is not a pleasant thing. I find this age to be very unbecoming to a man because respect is hard and rare to earn. So I do not blame Edmund for this wish to be respected, its his doubting of purpose that is where his sin lies. 

In the final battle when Edmund is lastly tested he is faced with two questions: take the witches hand, or slay the sea serpent about to kill everyone. Power and manhood, or danger and possible death. For us looking at it the answer is easy, but for those tempted it is an impossible task. For in that instant we forget the death of the One that was so that we can have a purpose. Just as Edmund, we hesitate to the desires of our heart.  We forget that we have purpose, that there is a ship full of people counting on us to slay our serpent and accomplish are purpose.

I look at Edmund and cannot help but to think "what an idiot". His purpose, the things he was called to do was so much greater than anything I could hope to do. But this is were the sin is, no matter how "big" or "small" of a purpose we have humans seem ever to be content with it. We get stuck on what we think we need to be, or what we see as meaningful. We fail to trust that God's purpose is sufficient.

There is a flip side too. Sometimes we can be to prideful in our purpose. This is what plagued Peter in the second movie. He was so sure of himself and his ability to lead that he did not wait on Aslan, and ended up sacrificing the lives of half of the men he was to protect. Because of pride in his purpose, he failed his purpose.

John the baptist is a good example of a man who was content with his purpose. He did not question whether or not he was important enough. He knew that God had called him to eat bugs, wear dirty camel's fur and he loved it. He also did not become prideful in knowing that he had many followers, or that he was one of the holiest guys in his day. He even flat out talks about his purpose being a gift of which he is not worthy; he says “A person can receive only what is given them from heaven."

I like gifts. A true if is given freely. It can be also taken away. Nothing I did earned me that gift. As long as we remember this we have no choice except to stay humble. We also have no choice but to stay joyful. God chose us out of all the other people to bless with this one purpose. Whether we are stuck cleaning toilets or pasturing a mega church, God chose us to do the work needed to be done. God gave us a purpose. Be content with it.

Doubting the Love of My Lover

Aslan: "Oh, my dear what have you done."

Lucy: "I am sorry. I did not want to do it."

Aslan: "Yet you still did."

I watched the new Narnia yesterday. I was good. So many simple truths about God. This was one dialog that stood out. Lucy has just uttered a spell in which she turns into her older sister Susan. By turning into Susan, Lucy had spoken her self out of existence. Once she realized the "heaviness" of the situation Aslan pulled her out of her fake, Narnia-less reality. Queue in the above conversation. 

This was such a powerful scene because I do the same every day. Lucy wished to be her sister because she believed Susan to be of great beauty and worth. Far surpassing her own worth. Lucy was given a dagger and some medicine, Susan was given a power filled horn and never failing bow. Lucy was a young girl, Susan was a grown woman upon which the eyes of man were never satisfied. Lucy doubted her worth, her beauty in comparison to that of her sister. She doubted Aslan's view of her. His promise was not enough. 

I am in constant doubt of God. Of His promise in Song of Soloman 7:10 or Psalms 139:14. Doubting that he created me holy, with a purpose, and that He loves me. Because of my doubt I often make choices that I end up regretting once faced with the Truth. Lucy goes on to say how she did not want it all, she just wished to be beautiful. Which is the same thing I say once God roars truth into my face; "I only wanted to feel good, I didn't mean to cause pain", or "I was only trying to be helpful by doing it on my own, I didn't mean to push You away."

Constantly I am losing sight of God's promises about me. That I am wonderfully made. His desire is for me. That I am worthy to Him. I forget these vows that comes with this marriage we called Christianity.

For me forgetting His promises is best seen when I forget His love for me and the love I will one day share with the goddess He has made to be my wife. Instead of holding onto this hope and knowledge I trade His eternal Love for a fake, poisonous reality. I trade a proud Father for a computer and an old sock. I trade a promise for the horrid thought that that promise has been betrayed.

I do not think there with be pain in heaven, but I do think that there will be a moment of regret. Once we get there we will see all of our mistakes and simply say, "oh". That "oh" will be when we realize the betrayal of God's promise and everything will could have done better. It will be when we realize we should have never doubted.

What is your doubt? For some it could be that of worth; maybe you know God has forgiven you, but you cannot forgive yourself. You doubt that you are worthy of forgiveness. Possibly like Lucy you forget that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. We must write the words of God on our hearts if this doubt is to end, for God has something so much better planned.

But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.

James 1:6

Worshiping like a sailor cusses

It's been awhile now that I have been thinking about this, my worship through song has lost it's intimacy. Which flows into all my other forms of worship it seems. I no long realize the heaviness of the words I am singing nor the fact that I am singing to the Lord Most High. All the songs are just memorized prose in my head. The majority of my thoughts focused on problems or thoughts in my head while my body auto-pilots in a "worship manner" (heaven forbid someone see me not singing or standing up).

It's annoying.

I have become like a sailor's cussing with my worship: without thought; without purpose. It is mindless, reasonless worship. There is no love. No intimacy. No connection. Nothing. Like a sailor I just auto-pilot through my words. A sailor just says whatever comes out without adding meaning to a slur. I just sing without adding meaning to a song.

I hate it.

I want a intimate, exhaustive, and pregnant time of worship with God. So powerful and filling that I have nothing to do but fall on my face. Free from the worry of others thoughts. Me, God, and a guitar. I want to mean it when a say "Your grace is enough" or "I give you my heart". I do not want to keep this mindless worship going, for I believe it to be more harmful and dangerous than mindless cussing.

Give me your heart. May I scoot next to You in the car. Draw me close to you and never let me go. Bind my wandering heart to three, prone to wander Lord I feel it. Bring me back to the heart of worship, You and me. My heart for Yours. My love for Yours. 

Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow

Prone to Sin

I suck at this whole do not sin thing. I really suck. I wish I did not. But I do. I really really do. Sin is fun and anyone who says different is lying. Some weeks it is easy because I am so sick of sinning that I have no want. You can only lick up your own barf so many times before it stops tasting good. But after taking a break, eating good stuff the barf starts looking appealing again because I forget how sick it makes me and then it's back to eating it. 

It starts with just a glance back. Then a sniff. Maybe a lick. "Oh this is good, kinda like pizza with Chinese in it." All the way until I am full on devouring it. And this continues until I am sick again. A vicious circle to say the least. 

So what happens that causes me to turn back, to forget? I think a lack of strength. I am always trying to change, to turn away from sin on my own accord. Never asking help from the One that bought my freedom. Why? I do not know. No, literally I do not know how. I have spent most of my life half-assking for help, but once sin starts looking good again I drop Jesus like a gay guy drops the soap. Sin is fun. I hate it, but it feels really good (for a moment) and is really fun. Paul's anguish at the end of Romans 7 echos that of the wrestling of my own heart.

^"18 And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t. ¹⁹ I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway. ²⁰ But if I do what I don’t want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is sin living in me that does it. ²¹ I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. ²² I love God’s law with all my heart. ²³ But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me."

 

So how am I going to get out of this? I still am unsure how, but I know it has to start with Jesus. He is the only way out. Paul says in the next chapter as much

  

^"3-4God went for the jugular when he sent his own Son. He didn't deal with the problem as something remote and unimportant. In his Son, Jesus, he personally took on the human condition, entered the disordered mess of struggling humanity in order to set it right once and for all. The law code, weakened as it always was by fractured human nature, could never have done that."

 

I want to remember this. To own it. To believe wholeheartedly that I no longer need to fight against something that has already died. I want to figure out how to apply this. How to ask for help and trust that that will be enough.

 

Lord, thank you for your grace. Teach me it. I pray that I am constrained by it to a life wholly and deeply Yours. Here's to the good fight. May you grant my the ability to trust your strength. Set me right.  Again help me, for even while I write this I want nothing more to run off and do that which I hate.

A Man Named Jesus

So I have been reading this book called The Heart of Christianity by Marcus Borg. I hate it. Every time I pick it up I read something that I argue with for hours only to come to the conclusion that he is right. Right now I am in a chapter solely on Jesus. One of his main points for the chapter is the humanness of Jesus, which after arguing with myself over the way he said it I have decided is right. He believes that this side of Jesus is almost completely forgotten by many as of late. One of the points that he made that hit me was such, "We do not think that Jesus thought that the purpose of his life, his vocation, was his death. His purpose was what he was doing as a healer, wisdom teacher, social prophet, and movement initiator. His death was the consequence of what he was doing, but not the purpose." How often are we taught the opposite? That Jesus came to die for us and now we can go to heaven. Okay that's great and true, but we are missing something. We are focusing on the, and to use another thought from Borg, post-Easter Jesus. God the Son raised from the dead. But there is a whole big chunk we forget that Jesus was human.

Jesus came to this world to show us how God would look like in human form. God would love, heal, and teach others how to do the same. Honestly if we could fully get things right, follow Jesus's way, there would be no need for death. 

I love this thought because it affirms the need to make Christianity a way not just a set of beliefs. Who gives a crap about whether you believe Jesus died, if you do not turn it into an action. When you no longer care about getting to heaven you start worrying about how to make this world a better place.

I am sorry for the lack of clear purpose to this blog, it is late and my mind keeps jumping tracks. I guess what I wanted to say is that I forget that Jesus was human. He did not want to die. He die because He lived a life as God meant life to be, and was killed for such. And because He lived a holy life we can also. Who cares what happens after death, I want to be known for a holy full life here and now. I want to be known for my love of others, my caring for the sick, my helping the widows.

P.S, please critique this

The girl without a name

Do you ever have those times when you hear, see, or learn of something and instantly you feel splagchnizomai? Splagchnizomai is the Greek word for compassion. It means to ache from your bowels with compassion, love, and pity. To break down and cry because of the pain you feel for someone. Jesus is often caught with this feeling after seeing the broken, the sick, the weary.

Me? I feel it sometimes unfortunately for me I remember all of the times I have felt like this. The reason I say unfortunately is because the reason I remember is because it only rarely happens. Often I am to caught up in my cynical ways to open my heart to what God is doing.

But I felt it tonight.

It beautiful feeling. Not enjoyable, but beautiful. It's a painful, angry, sad feeling. The only thing that feels right is to cry. It sucks, but it is so beautiful because in that moment I know how God feels toward humans, towards me. It's a moment of understandings just how much "God so loved the world".

I do not know her name, but she was around 5 I reckon, in kindergarden is all I know. She was precious. It was pajama day at school, so she wore her pink pajamas proudly in the mall. She had beautiful black hair in two braid down pass her shoulders. And rosy red cheeks, as if jack frost had given them a kiss. She came in my store with her grandma, great grandma, and a cousin who was dressed in pink also. She and her cousin bounced around the store while her grandmas shopped. I don't know how it came up, but somehow the topic of how her dad had run off with another women leaving her mom with her and a unborn baby.

"Shit-head", "I could be that guy", "That girl is worth way too much to be fatherless". All these thoughts filled my mind. Splagchnizomai filled my gut. It hurt. I just wanted to give her a hug and tell her she was loved, then beat her father into his senses for hurting such a precious thing.

Whenever Jesus felt compassion it was followed by an act: Healing the broken; feeding the hungry; cleaned the dirty. I could only pray. Pray that God reveal himself to her, protect her, and keep her from the evil one. And thank Him. Thank Him for loving me, that even though the world is broken He is fixing me, thank Him that there is a hope of a better life.

I love God. This world is broken, but He gives me hope. And as I sit here wanting to cry for the fatherless child I am filled with Joy that God is a father who will never leave us and He crying with me.

This world is broken, but GOD IS GOOD. I want nothing more to feel like this everyday; in pain, but with joy.

Comics Origins and who is God.

If you have ever read any comic books then you will be familiar with the three ways to write an origin story. One way, like how superman started, is too just throw the origin out there in the first issue; and this seems to be the most popular way of starting. Just puke up the story, so that the reader understands.

Another way to write an origin story is to wait awhile. Batman comics did this. The comic series started off with some dude in a costume running around with a magnifying glass, dusting fingerprints to find the bad guy. Weird, right? You have no idea why  is doing this. Was he home-schooled and never got the memo that capes are not half as cool as they should be? Maybe he was just a pedophile with a bat fetish who solved crimes as a way to woo the hearts of little boys in green speedos. Without an origin your mind can conjure up some pretty weird stories. But once the story is out, you realize that "oh he has daddy issues that makes sense".You understand him.

The third way can be the most annoying, but if used right is the most effective. Its where the reader is only given snap shots at a time that are relevant to the furthering of the story. Wolverine used this style. It allows for a certain amount of change. The enough of the story is told to get you through this event. Just enough so you how he is thinking and how you are to connect with him at this moment. This way you are connected to the element of his personality needed for the moment. You know just enough to keep you from thinking he is a home-schooled with too much time on his hands. He stays a mystery to a point.

I think God likes to write with the wolverine style. He like to be a mystery. We are not able to understand him. He flat out tells us such in Isaiah 55:8. He gives us just enough insight to Him and His heart for us to get by. In one story He will show His lover side. In another His warrior side. Just enough so we can be connect to Him in this story, but we will have to keep pursuing and reading in order to find out more.

I was reading the other day with the author was talking about God, and all of a sudden I had this surreal moment. I read the word God and I was at a loss. You know how words have images or feelings that pop open when you read them, I had none. I read the word "God" and nothing popped up. "Who is God? Why is this name deserving of glory? What image could I use to try and understand?" was all I could think. I first though of some guy with a sick ZZ Top beard, but knew that this would not work. I then remember what the author had said earlier of God being a young lover, so an image of a young man came to mind. But with both I felt as if something was missing.

Until we get to heaven this will be a consent process of trying to understand what God is and looks like. Whenever we conjure up an image of God we will always be missing something. Moses tried to see God, but only was able to see His back because of how un-understandable God is (Exd 33:23).
So this is where I am at trying to even get a glimpse of God's back. Trying to understand what the word God means. Trying to read God's comic book without getting frustrated that I am not getting the whole story.

Who is God to you? What does the word God mean to you? Daddy? Lover? Warrior? Glory? Grace? Mercy? Your guess is as good as mine. We just have to trust that the part of the story God is reveling to us now is enough, and that once that we master that element He will grace us with another for us to try and grasp.