I'm a Mac...and I've got a Dirty Secret

Security Blanket - New Song

I am small
I am weak
I am angry
I am not meek

and I fall
and I fall
and I fall
and I fall

and I will lie down and dwell in peace
for you alone, oh lord, make me dwell in safety

I grow tired
I grow old
I am too open
I am too cold

and I fall
and I fall
and I fall
and I fall

and I will lie down and dwell in peace
for you alone make my dwell in safety

I am lonely
I’m out of breath
I am amazed
you’re with me yet

when I fall
when I fall
when I fall
when I fall

I will lie down and dwell in peace
for you alone make my dwell in safety

Blog rules: Stick with your topic

Apparently accordin to blog rules, you should try to write blogs that stick with your blog's title theme. Mine is Beyond Purgatory, the sense that no one should live a mundane, complacent life.

I'm not sure my posts have flowed under that theme.

However, as I reflect back on the last couple days, I've had several things happen that are very extraordinary, and yet there were no flashing cameras, fireworks invovled. But oh, they made my heart so happy.

1. forgiveness. This is always a good thing. I feel like ordinary life would mean either remain bitter or forget anything ever happened. It's an extraordinary thing to find the balance between hurt and healing.

2. dialogue. I've had several conversations over the last couple days in which i have whole heartedly disagreed with a person and yet anger, fists, and pride did not rear its ugly head (at least that I was aware of.) I think it's an extraordinary thing to be able to talk, stand firm, be open to hear and love the person, and walk away feeling slightly more humbled and yet confident. Ordinarily, one might scream and yell and leave in a huff.

High volume does not always equal fantastic (a reference to fireworks or 100 piece marching bands).

3. meaningful accomplishment. it's one thing to sing a song. it's another thing to have someone say that it encourages them. it's one thing to work with children with autism. it's another thing to have a parent thank you with a loss for words. it's one thing to touch base with a friend. it's another thing to realize why that person means so much and to see God keeping the connection flowing despite months of non-contact.

perhaps one day i'll be able to write on this blog how I didn't settle for leading worship but performed in front of about the 1,000 people. or the platinum record i recieved instead of giving away cds. or meeting the president instead of a stranger who needed a smile. or walking on water instead of drinking it. (Or would I want things to change that way?) regardless, my life is far from ordinary and life jump starts me from complacency, if I allow myself to look with the eyes of Christ, and dedicate even a water glass to His glory. Christ made all things extraordinary in his power (minus going to the bathroom perhaps).

live beyond purgatory. don't get stuck or resign to apathy. but if you can't change your circumstance, ask Christ to change your heart and mind and soul in that circumstance, and let the sactification and extraordinary-fication begin.

On My Bones

My suggestion at reading this blog is to play video and read the blog while listening to the song. Sets the tone.

Ezekiel 37: Valley of Dry Bones
God asked the prophet, "Can these bones live?"
The prophet, in a sense, asked God, "Lord, you know."

It's a bit of an ambiguous answer, one that demonstrates either a cunning way to cop-out, like the typical "what do YOU think?" or a humble recognition that God is the only one who knows the answer to seemingly hopeless impossibilities. I wonder what would have occurred if Ezekiel had said, "Nope, it's impossible for those dried up, scattered bones to live." Would the Lord have proven him wrong, or in dismay, allowed Ezekiel's unbelief to be the self-fulfilled prophecy turn reality?

"I will cause breath to enter you, that you may come to life."

Even with sinew (the equipment), bones (the structure) and skin (the appearance, facade), breath was needed to bring this army to life. What does it mean to have the breath of God? To be one with Him? I remember reading stories as a child with my head on my dad's chest, and I'd change my breathing pattern to match his rhythm. It was such an intimate exchange, co-existing in inhaling the same breath, and exhaling the same waste. Is that what it means? How does one lay on the chest of the Heavenly Father?

"And the bones came together, bone to its bone."

In its right place. Originally scattered. What if the Lord had told Ezekiel, put the bones together and then I'll act. I probably would have failed miserably. Most bones look the same to me. And yet the Lord spoke through Ezekiel, and all the bones joined in their right place. And yet, although I know I am helpless to form creation, I think I'm brilliant to put my life back together. I run away, to put my heart, my mind, my soul back together and come back looking like a Picasso painting: all the right pieces, perhaps beautiful, but pretty awkward looking. Love, worship, dedicate your heart, mind, and soul to the Lord. Maybe that doesn't mean "Fix it, and then bring it to him." A broken and a contrite heart. I'm glad I don't have to be a non-blemished 1 year old lamb to be an acceptable offering to the Lord.

All this reflection started after reading Oswald Chamber's daily devotion on this passage. He wrote (among other things), "The degree of hopelessness I have for others come from never realizing that God has done anything for me. Is my own personal experience such a wonderful realization of God's power and might that I can never have a sense of hopelessness for anyone else I see?"

He continues, "When God wants to show you what human nature is like separated from Himself, He shows it to you in yourself."

I saw wrath last night. Pure wrath. It boiled up inside of me, water streaming down my face, fingers bent into claws, heart pounding, brain bursting at the seams. For an entire day, it ate me alive. I woke up in the morning completely tense head to toe. My voice was lowered 1 octave. I had seen dry bones and I was glad.

"Son of Man, can these bones live?"
- No, Lord, because they don't deserve it. They only could, and should, remain dead.

My anger was my revelation of the human nature separated from Christ. Apart from the Lord, we are not only God's enemies, but man's. Apart from Christ's forgiveness, we crucify Him daily and demand Pilate to crucify each other. Die for your sins!

And isn't this shown in the semantic twist of the Golden rule?

I'll do to you what you've done to me. This is the law.
Do unto others as you'd have them to do you. This is love.

Without Christ, at eternity, I'd bear the wrath of God.
Without Christ, on earth, I'd further the wrath of men.

I read a sermon last night by Martin Luther King, Jr. (1957) entitled, "Loving Your Enemies." He ended his sermon with these words:

So this morning, as I look into your eyes, and into the eyes of all of my brothers in Alabama and all over America and over the world, I say to you, "I love you. I would rather die than hate you." And I'm foolish enough to believe that through the power of this love somewhere, men of the most recalcitrant bent will be transformed. And then we will be in God?s kingdom. We will be able to matriculate into the university of eternal life because we had the power to love our enemies, to bless those persons that cursed us, to even decide to be good to those persons who hated us, and we even prayed for those persons who despitefully used us.

I want to breathe in the breath of God so that I may live, not exhale the fires of hell to condemn others (and myself) to death.

Oh this love has been life to these bones.