Month: December 2023

I just woke up from the powerful dream I’ve ever had. I was still living with mom but had gotten up while she was still asleep and drove down the shore with a grey beach chair and a grey folding chair to take pictures. I drove up to a wooden tower and had to climb to the very top carrying all my stuff but I didn’t mind because it had a beautiful view and there was this older couple singing hymns, so I started singing along with them. I fixed the aperture of my camera and adjusted the f-stop so I could capture the moon  in the twilight as it rose framed by the tower’s pinnacle. I left my all my stuff there and began the decent only to realize I had left my bag, camera and chair behind.

I went back after reaching the first landing, and was greatly surprised that no one had touched it because this elderly couple who I’ve been singing with, had been watching over it for me. I left the gray folding chair there for someone else who may need it.

As I reached the bottom floor, I walked through and saw faces of people, but there were more than the amount I thought might be in a beach setting 12 step meeting, which is absolutely fine and I assumed might be larger given the lifestyle down the beach. Everyone was very hopeless in their eyes. As I made my way to the door I saw that there were all these vendors congregated, handing out some sort of satanic club stickers and rather than feel afraid I just felt sorry for them. They weren’t mean, just there.

I walked into green, specifically, looking for an ice cream shop that I had gone down for as well. A gentleman named Thomas introduced himself and held my bag for me. I walked up to the ice cream counter and realized it wasn’t like it used to be, but that you ordered scoop of ice cream and then they had bins of all of these different toppings you would choose to add yourself. The woman behind me asked if there was anything gluten-free and I was glad she did because I hadn’t thought to ask. Again, I had left my bag off to the side and I went back startled thinking I had left it with a complete stranger, and Thomas just smiled and came up, handed me my bag and paid for my ice cream.

As we were standing there, a group of young teenagers were singing a hymn, and I started singing along, and then this loving Hispanic woman stood next to me with her left hand held right above my heart. I could tell she was praying into me. Nothing else mattered at that point except as we reached the end of the I exhaled, truly feeling like something had clicked with inside me. I let out sigh, and as I did, I woke up, not gasping, but just taking in huge deep breaths, as the end of my playlist was playing him “All to Jesus I Surrender”.

I told Siri to play the last song that was playing because I wasn’t sure what it was, and just laid here with my right hand above my heart in the dark thinking this is what I should surrender to is not to a flag, not any symbol, but Christ alone.

I had woken up a few times previously tonight and right before I went to sleep this time I was thinking about all the expectations I had for the church service that will begin in about four hours. They were all these thoughts about people I would like to see but also potential confrontations, and a particular situation to consider. This one again involved to gentlemen and his daughter in the potential of the daughter’s mother being there.

Before falling asleep, I had been thinking, specifically of telling her what a blessing it was to have the matriarch of her family still living and caring for their family. Additionally, that she was lucky enough to have a daughter when I couldn’t and one who is specifically so loving and kind and openhearted  and I  told her that I had no intentions of replacing her- that is and never will be my place.

Also that not everyone still has the blessing of the matriarch of the family living an active in that family life and I hope she realized what a blessing that was, and how important it was to show her the honor and respect not only to that individual because of who she is, but because of the title she holds.

I went to say that I hope she realizes how lucky she is to have a daughter, who not only has a father in her life, but one who obviously unconditionally loves their daughter. I specifically went over the dialogue, a number of times, and the idea of getting called a number of names and being slapped across the face. I thought to myself, if that does happen, that I would tell her, I no longer answer to those names, but to simply wish her a Merry Christmas and walk away. And to tell her that I do love her daughter, simply for who she is. That I don’t have any intentions of replacing her as a mother, but just want to convey how lucky I think she is to have her.

I don’t know what today will bring, nor what the future will bring in any capacity for that matter, but it’s not for me to know. As I write this, “Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel” is playing (which is unusual, because it’s only one of the two, maybe three Christmas songs I have on this playlist) and is now being followed with “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus”.

As I laid here, listening to “All to Jesus I Surrender”once more, I realized I always used to say trust “the process”. But the difference in my life now is that “the process” is in fact God‘s plan for my life. I am at complete peace with whatever this Christmas Eve service holds and the people I will interact with. What’s more important is that I feel peace with whatever the future holds. Both good or bad.

I wish you all a very merry Christmas and the peace I feel right now.

I just woke up from another nightmare, but this was of a different type. It was of a character who once played a part in the play of my life that said they wanted me to help them plan a trip they had always dreamed of taking and my only response was “I thought you didn’t care about me anymore”.

I woke up to Marj Synders rendition of “Does Jesus Care?” and “For Those Tears I Died” and the lyrics were of both were soothing to be certain, but I was very aware of what a different aspect of grief beyond missing those who have passed from this life. There is a grief for the ghosts of those who once playing the part of “one of the good guys”. 

There is a grief deeper still than those players, there is a grieving of the emotions associated with them. Such emotions go beyond the actual characters, but transcend into becoming ghosts that in and of the themselves that have their own special way of haunting our hearts. 

There is a fear that such emotions of feeling needed, feeling cared for, feeling safe and loved never coming again – at least in or perhaps on would be the better word – being manifested on this physical plane and reality. One of the lyrics of her other songs “Reach Out” says “when you reach out to Jesus, you’ll never be alone.” 

Yes, arguments made validated be made that there are friends and family who feel these feelings presently in your life, but these particular ghosts carry their own version of Jacob Marley’s chains. 

And yes, even in the play A Christmas Carol Jacob Marley appears in a dream and tonight it was again once again presented in the form of a dream. But you see, dreams are a funny thing. They can be good or bad as we sleep and they can also be good or bad when applied to the dreams we hold onto while awake. Good dreams in both can be helpful in giving us peace or motivation, but the bad can haunt and cause despair when asleep but also while awake as they can apply to those that have not become actualized despite our best efforts year after year. 

Stepping back into the grief of those emotions revisited in dreams, there is a cold hard reality we must face that the characters be they people or emotions have become ghosts. They apply to characters that have “exited stage left” to borrow the theatrical  phrase. In a way, this term plays upon the humor particular to the irony of life. Emotional and mental satire. 

It is easy to advise one to leave the past in the past and move on, but when it appears outside of our accord, it is harder to follow such well meaning words. 

It is also true that we can also grieve for those whose role was cast as the villains for the simple fact that they were still actors who were present for a time. 

In a strange way these seemingly contrasting characters of the past and what they represent can become unfortunately all too intertwined when they pass on from our lives. 

What is more, these haunts can resurrect when we look both at our present days and future plans. 

There is yet another level to be addressed. When the ghosts of those villains begin to take shape once more in our present day lives. When their dialogues are echoed, yet now perhaps as not even as strong or verbatim, it casts a shadow. As Hamlet’s father, they may not even be villains but rather victims who are attempting to warn us of present dangers. 

And this is where trusting our instincts come into play. With the best intentions to follow the advice of leaving the past in the past, we may inadvertently ignore those gut instincts in the folly of overly reactionary optimism. We try to move on and give grace or at least the benefit of the doubt to these new characters. And when we are faced with the fact that we should have listened to our gut instincts from the start, there is a tendency for self criticism in the inner monologue of “I should have known better”. 

How do we counteract trying to now follow good advice when contrasted with the lessons of the past we have painfully learned? There is no easy answer to this question, and perhaps there is in fact no pate answer out there. It is unfortunate (to put it lightly) that we need to approach others with this very question in mind as each new situation arises. And this may be the most grievous of all. 

 

There once was a young woman who had just moved from one state back home to live with her mother and grandmother after some rough times.

She felt so loved by her family but struggled to adjust to this new town, this new bedroom, even her two cats Gorbachev and Einstein had some trouble too.

After a while she found a job at one of her favorite places in the world- a bookstore. She loved talking to customers, hearing all about her coworkers’ families and favorite books and there was even one who went to the movies every weekend and would tell her how much she loved the movie or if it really wasn’t that much to brag about. She even got along very well with all her bosses, but still felt lost, lonely and frightened and eventually it was Christmas time. The bookstore, Barnes and Noble, was fully of Harry Potter book collections, coloring books, magical sorting hats, stuffed snowy white owls called Hedwig, Harry Potter playing cards, puzzles and even playing cards.

Harry Potter was one of her favorite series. She had read all the books, seen all the movies and so it made work not feel like work at all. But it still wasn’t enough to help completely. Everyone was very nice at work, but she wasn’t friends well enough with them to even go see a movie. She felt like she used to in high school where people either ignored her or made polite conversation but never really connected.

She felt alone in a room full of people still and was afraid of the darkness in her room and going to sleep because of the nightmares she would always seem to have.

One day that December, she decided to buy herself one of the bookstore’s teddy bears whose name Barnsie came written on its right foot. So even though she was grown up, she decided to buy one for herself to cheer herself up and try and make the nighttime better.

She had forgotten how to pray and even didn’t really know how or if she should even talk to God. Everything was so jumbled up inside her head and heart, but she would just go to sleep watching her cats sleep next to her on the bed and Barnsie too. When she finally began coming back around to the idea of talking to God, she still wasn’t sure how or if He even cared enough to listen, so she told Barnsie instead and hoped he would talk to God about all she was feeling and he could talk to God for her about it all.

Things started to finally get better and she started making some friends with a very wonderful group of people who met every night at different places nearby her new home to talk about anything and everything, but there was still a piece missing from her heart so she would hug Barnsie at night and tried talking to both God and Barnsie at the same time. Then God started talking back to her and helped her sleep at night. The nightmares didn’t come as often and she finally started going to church with her grandmother even though it had been almost 20 years since she had stepped foot inside a church. But her grandmother each Sunday had been praying for her to come back to church.

Finally she started making friends at church, slowly at first but then it got better and the new friends she would meet with after work each night would invite her to the most popular diner in town and just hang out. Between all these new things, she felt  comfortable enough to talk to God herself and then one day she had a dream about Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia telling her she belonged to him, but in reality it was God using the character of Aslan to tell her she belonged to Him, that He had never forgotten her all those years and that He still loved her despite everything. The following morning after dinner at the kitchen table, she told her mom about the dream and her mom said that that white lion was really the Lion of Judah- another name for God, so she asked God to come back into her life even though she still had doubts- and even told God so herself while her mom and her prayed that night.

You see for 20 years her mom and grandmother had never stopped praying this would happen. That same night she fell asleep hugging Barnsie and finally felt love and peace from God and didn’t have any nightmares that night. One night Gorbachev passed away and because her grandmother knew how much this one cat who had been with her since college meant to her, knew how much animals can truly mean to and help people, she just patiently sat with her and held her as she cried.

Fast forward five years and her beloved grandmother tragically passed away. At the funeral it felt like hundreds of people came out to pay their respects because her grandmother was loved by so many. Even her old best friend from 5th grade came (who she hadn’t seen in years and she felt a piece of her friend’s love filled a part of her she had totally forgotten) and her other best friend from the state she used to live in came, her cousins from New England and although it was very sad, talking about all the wonderful memories of her grandmother helped more than she realized at the time.

But this girl, now a little older was still so heartbroken and in shock that she couldn’t even to tell God how much she missed her grandmother who has always been her best friend. Even the girl’s newest cat Ophelia passed away three days before her grandmother and Einstein had passed away too that very same following Christmas, only two months later. Barnsie still laid silently next to this girl as she slept and she didn’t know what else to do besides hug him and pray.

Eventually her mom sold the house and she and her mom moved down here and began trying to put the pieces of their life back together, but they both always held on to one another and they grew even closer as they learned to adjust with life without her grandmother who although was no longer with them here on earth was in the loving arms of God in heaven.

The next two years this girl worked at different jobs, with many different people but talked to her friend from high school, her friend from Pennsylvania where she had moved back home from and even became very good friend with one very special girl she worked at the pharmacy with. But she never forgot God, her grandmother and Barnsie.

Finally two months ago she found a new church where everyone welcomed her with open arms and open hearts. Actually the very first morning she walked into this new church a very special woman made her feel right at home, was about her grandmother’s age and she told her all about her grandson who was also very special and loved his young daughter so very much, like the way this girl’s mom did and had always had her whole life even when they lived in different states.

Then one day her best friend came to visit and gave her another teddy bear who had mismatched colored ears and paws but she reminded her that just like life, and even this girl, all she has been through and all the mismatched things can be wonderful in their own special way. In fact, that was what made them special too.

The following Sunday, she met the wonderful woman’s grandson and his daughter whose smile and streaks of purple in her hair seemed to bring a special type of joy into her life because this little girl not only was so friendly and funny, but she reminded her of herself when she was a little girl long ago. Her father was so very kind too and made her feel right at home just like his grandmother did and even though it was a short service, this girl came home to her home now with her new cat Goldie who she had adopted from a rescue organization just the year before.

This girl had put Barnsie away because it was too hard to look at him and remember all she had been through, even the good times. But one Sunday before Christmas, she decided to give Barnsie to her new friend’s little girl to help her if she ever felt anything like what the girl had felt, ever had nightmares, or if there was ever a night she wasn’t even sure what to say to God either.

You see, passing along Barnsie helped the now woman’s heart more than however Barnsie may help this little girl if she ever needed him to. This little girl always runs up and gives hugs like she did the very next time they saw each other at church two months ago. It may not be Christmas yet and I don’t know if her father has given Barnsie to her yet or is waiting till Christmas morning, but I hope when he does, he’ll find a way to share this story with his little girl who he loves so very much in a way she can understand. Maybe this true story is written simply enough that he can read her this, but if not he can tell her the story after he takes her to the bookstore and buys her a copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe which tells all about Aslan and when the time is right, read that book to her too like he does with other books at night.

This is what I think Christmas should be about. Telling stories (especially the most important one about why we celebrate Christmas), remembering love, and passing that love to others whenever possible.

Do we not have to go throughout our lives enduring lash after lash that tare great gashes of flesh into our backs as well?

Are we not enduring the very same but of a slightly different experience?

Nothing new is under the sun.

One more scar is nothing I should have been surprised by. And yet I was.

Yet precious few actually discussed and dressed these wounds. But I am eternally thankful for them.

The thing about wounds is that they require novocaine, sutras a period of healing and then the sutras need to be removed.

Once when I split my elbow to upper bicep open after crashing my bike, I had a concerned neighborhood mother pour hydrogen peroxide on it and wash it out. Then upon arriving at the doctors, after 3 injections of novocaine, the doctor was unable to administer the process of stitching me back together because the novocaine did not take. We had to reschedule.

Isaiah 53:5 says “By His stripes we are healed”. But does our own process of justification of our own faith and its consequential process of personal sanctification require an echoing of His struggle?

I am daily or even hourly awaiting for the Holy Spirit’s administration of novocaine to take effect against the enemy as I lay in this foxhole awaiting the resurrection of my belief fully to allow the stitching together process begin.

The nightmares, interruption of sleep patterns, battles with eating and migraines no doubt are emotionally, neurologically and spiritually intertwined.

For this, at this level, there is no one to intervene on a physical plain. There have been outside steps taken to address these issues but the culmination of these together call for an intervention of a higher power.

It echoes back the same cry of “why hast thou forsaken me?”, saying “it is finished” and dying to three days later be resurrected. My three days is approaching four months most acutely, but three years when looked at in the longview.

There are precious few moments I can pray for myself, yet I still gladly pray and trust those prayers will be answered for when praying for others… as if I am mentally, emotionally and spiritually lost within an M. C. Escher sketch.

So I had asked, well truth be told, “told” God “You need to prove yourself to me”.  Although I didn’t really want to go to Bible study tonight I had agreed that I’d give Him another shot (partially because I wanted to be proven wrong) so I went so I could say I least kept up my end of the bargain.

We are going through Matthew 10: 26-30. Without going full throttle into a discourse on all these verses; here’s the ones where God showed up (this is Jesus speaking):

“What is the price of two sparrows—one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.”

‭‭Matthew‬ ‭10‬:‭29‬-‭31‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Sparrows were about 1/16th of a day’s wages, so no one thought much of them, and yet God does. Then we’re presented with the idea of hair. We care about our hairstyles and how we look, true, but God takes such an interest in us that He knows exactly how many hairs are on our heads. Then here are two very important phrases; “do not be afraid” and “you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows”.

So what does this mean to me? That God cares so deeply about the most seemingly worthless of things that we take for granted and smallest of details and that I do not need to be afraid because I am worth more to Him than even an entire flock of sparrows. Wow.

When I close my eyes, I tend to see spirals first counterclockwise then clockwise which can either be of little consequence or quite disconcerting sometimes. Most recently it’s been more disconcerting because it feels like I can’t even escape the chaos because everything is swirling around so vehemently even when I close my eyes.

As we neared the end of our time at the study, we were asked if any of us had prayer requests. A wonderful older gentleman took down each of the many requests. We actually laughed that it was a good thing someone had been taking notes! But then this gentleman removed his hat and began to pray.

Like usual, when I closed my eyes, the spiraling began. But as I listened to this man, he did not just go down a list. He took the time to specifically request the appropriate needs of each individual or situation and made it personal. This respectful and heartfelt prayer was said with such (seemingly effortless) resulting eloquence, that the chaotic spiraling beneath my closed eyes became like the waves like you see on a heart monitor, steadily moving up and down but yet calm. Then they became like a tendril of a hollow golden tube flowing first from one slight long curve to the next, as if you were driving along a windy mountain roadway with the ocean waves still ebbing back and forth beneath you.

The spiraling effect did return, but this time it was not at the rapid, frenzied pace it has been, but with care, love and slowly and deliberately; as I imagine Van Gogh would have painted those famous yellow orbs in Starry Night.

It occurred to me then that yes, this spiral of existence is reality, but in prayer, it becomes more breathtaking than all the stars we see in the Milky Way. In fact, throughout this gentleman’s simple yet beautiful intercession, I was afforded the chance to not only acknowledge that although spiraling chaos will exist, but when praying, it (as in space), is different. The spirals become not inexplicable undertows and whirlpools I’m doomed to drown in, but rather a chance to glide softly through the cosmos in awe of the beauty of galaxies more innumerable than we can know of with any exact certainty…just like the number of hairs on our heads. Through prayer, our spirits can glide above the storms of the current moment without fear of falling because He cares enough to grant us wings.

I know my greatest strength and weakness is love. But I read and traveled the pathways of His great love for me simply by closing my eyes and listening not so much even to the words themselves that this man prayed, but the genuine desire of one individual to ask God to help others both known and unknown to him. It was God’s love I read and saw with closed eyes, but also heard because of a man’s love for his fellow man through prayer to the God of all creation – from the heavens, to the sparrows, to me.