I Feel Like Writing (A Writer's Pledge)

I feel like writing – but sometimes, when you don’t have anything to write, it makes it difficult TO write. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that there isn’t anything worth writing out there, but my dilemma is not about creative writing; it’s not about writing something for my benefit, or for the benefit of someone’s gossip interest or innocent interest – my dilemma when it comes to writing is more about “purposeful” writing – does it “feed” the person reading it? Because, honestly, if my words don’t speak to you, don’t minister to your spirit, don’t relate to you, or help you, or jog your inward thoughts and contemplations about who you are and what you’re going through, then my words mean nothing – they serve nothing, they’re worthless jabbering in the still air, that hit dead weight into the abyss of pointlessness with a sickening thud.

I don’t want to be that kind of writer. I don’t want to be the writer that likes to hear himself talk, or delights in his own “genius,” which, quite frankly, is closer to folly than the “genius” of the mentally impaired – no one who is mortal has anything truly intelligent to say unless is was first inspired by the One, who created intelligence, wisdom, and novelty. It is for this One that I write, my dreams of being His mouthpiece – to speak to the masses true intelligence, comfort, relativity, wisdom, joy, and retrospection – the essence of all of these factors begins and ends in the Beginning and the End of humanity.

But people don’t feel as if He is something (and I mean “thing” because people periodically have a hard time thinking of God as a Someone – yes – even the devout Christians have their doubts) that can be touched, can be spoken “with” (much less “to”), or related to. Such has been the debacle since the beginning of the life of Man, following the Fall – why else would He have to make Himself a human? It was so we would know that we know that we know without a doubt that He can and does relate to us on every level there is. Having created a human being, then becoming one – let’s just say – He knows how we tick, inwards and outwards.

But to be His mouthpiece – a type of Christ to others, since Christ was His way of touching us through the glove of a human body and mortal auspices – to be a reference point of Truth to others – this is what I strive to be! I don’t want to talk your ear off with words that bear little weight or meaning – I don’t want to say something that you can’t take with you that could help change your life, even if it is just in a small way.

Do I infer that my words have such a power or ability? By no means – but the Spirit using them – therein lies the secret to such a query. I write His words with the best of my limited human ability, and then you hear His words through your limited human understanding – but it is the Spirit, working inside your heart that takes the words and relays them to a particular issue, place, element in your personage – and ministers ointment and salve to that area – THIS is where the true magic of being God’s vessel lies. The resonance in your spirit with some word or thought that mine spoke – the true mystery of the workings of the Spirit, using His mouthpiece as His salve to wash over the area in your heart…and not just yours, but the others that read my writings as well. The exponentially wide margin of varying hurts, questions, circumstances, imaginings – the Spirit is no stranger to understanding what medicine is needed for what ailment…and His “magic pill” is comfort through the use of words…

Could I write His words that become such a medical ecstasy? It’s what I strive to do. With every letter typed, every stroke of pen, every articulation through the use of man’s writing utensils – my desire is to present “life” to the reader through the words that enter into his eyes and the inner workings of his brain and heart – a privilege and miracle only God can ensure and create, but with a willing partner in this pursuit, He can do more than we could possibly imagine.

Written with minimal to no editing
(Other than spelling and typo corrections, one word replaced);
All within the time frame of 10 min.

Divine Incubation

Have you ever felt that your life has been on pause, while others’ are on “fast-forward”? It can seem that way, when you’re faced with the same mountain you can’t seem to surmount, or the same nightmare you can’t seem to awaken from – the longer you climb, the higher the peak of the summit; the longer the night, the worse the nightmare becomes. Will this ever end, you ask? Others’ lives seem to have gone ahead; new exploits keep coming their way, new situations, changes – they’ve reinvented themselves over and over and over again – you almost can’t recognize them. But you – you seem to be right in the thick of your old woods – the ones you entered so long ago, with the hope of getting through them, at least –this is what the encouragement was at the beginning of it, right? Every time life hits us in the face with a horror, we’re told (and tell ourselves for assurance) – it won’t last forever; there is a light at the end of the tunnel – there is another side to this labyrinth of a forest…and as the weeks turn to months, months to years, your feet are aching as you trudge forward through the thicket, straining to see the end of it…but wait, haven’t I seen that tree before? That patch of grass looks familiar…Am I going in circles?

I wonder what Joseph was thinking when he was in that prison cell so many years. The cupbearer, who had received his assistance, had been exonerated and redeemed…and Joseph, completely forgotten, lost in the thick of his “forest” in that dark, damp corridor of Egyptian filth. Prisoners in and out, officers come and go, and Joseph, with a fading dream in his heart, stuck; life on pause, on an endless climb to the topless insurmountable “summit” of his trial.

“But while Joseph was there in the prison, the LORD was with him…and gave him success in whatever he did.” (Gen. 39:20;23)

Imagine that! While Joseph climbed that mountain without an apex, he was not alone – the LORD was climbing it with him! The Lord of Hosts, the Everlasting Father, the Creator of the Universe, the Word that Speaks and it is so – was WITH Joseph to climb that mountain without a summit, and to conquer that, which was unconquerable! Just imagine – the One Who IS, and because He IS, other things come into being – His mere Presence shapes the atmosphere, in which He dwells! The Light in the Darkness – that shatters the impenetrable and recreates it into something it never was! The Hope of the Hopeless, the Shedder of a red Blood that washes and cleans the blackest of black into the purest white! The Rainbow Painter, Who’s imagination has not limitation – Who can speak into YOUR situation and transform its bitterness into sweet honey! Can you imagine that Ally, walking with you through YOUR labyrinth?

How do you know when the Invisible One is with you in your darkest hour and in your most desperate moment of need? For Joseph – with life on pause, he was still increasing. How? He was fashioned and educated in the Egyptian arts and sciences – learning the system and academia of the most powerful and wealthiest empire in the known world! He was gifted in administration and leadership, and allowed to hone and sharpen that gift in two separate organizations on the opposite ends of the sociological and cultural spectrum, learning to use all aspects of varying resources, situations, caste systems, and people groups. All of this training was going somewhere, even if he himself was going “nowhere.” His “paused” life, though motionless on the surface, was not a “still frame” on destiny, not imprisonment on his purpose – rather, it was his “divine incubation.” The Incubator, Who accompanied him through the entire nightmare, was up to something spectacular, that even the dreamer himself couldn’t have dreamed.

And finally, FINALLY, when the time was ripe –

“Thus (Pharaoh) put (Joseph) in charge of the whole land of Egypt.” (Gen. 40:41)

In the briefest of moments, SUDDENLY! A new reality was born! The topless mountain became the floor, and the nightmare gave way to a new day. It was over – the forest cleared, the labyrinth passed, and there, on the other side of terror, was the life, for which the hike up the mountain and the walk through the forest prepared the traveler to live…HIS life to really LIVE! All the while his life was on pause, Joseph was being made ready, incubated, fashioned, equipped to SEIZE and CONQUER a life that the Author had written for him to enjoy since the beginning of time! Joseph’s pause transformed him into a ruler destined to literally rule the known world for the rest of his life on this earth! Wow. What a pause was his!

Imagine what your “pause” is accomplishing for you now? Yes – life is moving along for others around you, and your nightmare is steadfast and unshakeable, that labyrinth incessantly suffocating around you, that mountain ever looming above you – but this pause on your progress is only a pause on the surface, for beneath it – shaping and fashioning- destiny is taking place – you may not see it; you might not even feel it; but the Incubator is working, and in the breath of a moment – you TOO will emerge into the new reality, in which you were destined to live.

“The LORD was with Joseph and he prospered.” (Gen. 39:1)

Zēkē's Blunder: The Simplicity of the Gospel Story

Zēkē (pronounced with long “ee”s) got in trouble the other day. Oh yes – my perfectly behaved little (well, compared to other dog breeds) rambunctious, 12 pound, straggly-haired Maltese, did something he knew he wasn’t supposed to do.

If any of you own or are acquainted with toy breed dogs, or even cats (sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference between the two), then, you know that, to which I am referring, when I describe their natural tendency – to “burrow” – a process of digging, and scratching, and sinking deeper and deeper into the folds of their fabric of choice, creating a “nest,” either on the sofa, chair, bed, blanket, or wherever it is they decide to lie down, in order to make their designated “bed” “just right” for their nap. Consequence of such a tendency: scratched and ruined furniture. Such is the habit of my two little Maltese, but most especially with the male: Zēkē.

Now, most of the furniture in the house is “dog-safe;” that is, they’re “dog-used.” We’ve had these chairs and couches for years, “pre-worn” by previous pets, stained by past “food incidents” from guests and family alike – furniture I’ve literally “grown up” on, and furniture we’ve decided not to replace, due to the presence of animals in the house. However, there is this ONE chair – just ONE in the house – the Great Leather Chair,– a high back overstuffed chair with rich/gorgeous walnut brown leather, the “reclining glory,” Dad’s weekend throne, on which he props his feet and releases the cares of the workweek for hours of uninterrupted rest. Oh yes – we bought this ONE new chair for Dad, a gift we, my Mom and I, lovingly and excitedly gave him for his birthday one summer as our special treat for him and him alone; and we trained the dogs not to even TOUCH this chair, for obvious reasons. After all, they have all the other couches and sofas in the room, but THIS one was for Dad, and Dad only.

We were so pleased with how well the dogs minded this new rule. They did great! We placed a towel on the seat of the chair initially, just in case they had some issues in learning the new limit, and we did have to use minor disciplinary actions the first couple of weeks of ownership – but in the end, the dogs finally understood: this was “Dad’s Chair,” and they were not allowed to partake of its leisure. Period.

Years went by without an incident. The reclining beauty remained untouched, grandly situated in the corner of the room – our crowning jewel of the living area…until one day – the unthinkable happened.

I was busily working on my computer at the dining room table, which faces the living area, when I heard this unusual sound – one I had never heard before. I couldn’t make out what it was at first. It started out slowly {{{rip...rip...rip...}}} it was muffled, deep, thick…its’ speed gradually increasing…{{{rip, rip, rip, rip}}} and then, the “dawning of understanding” sank into my gut with a sickening thud! {{{rip, rip…rip, ripripriprip}}} It was the sound of tearing leather! I shot up from my seat in angered dismay, and lo and behold - Zēkē had decided to make his “nest” on the forbidden chair of glory!

“Zēkē! NOOO!!!!!” I felt time stand still – there he was, claws embedded in the beautiful elegance of walnut-stained luxury, and my legs and arms were encased in “Dream’s Lead,” that heaviness that weighs one down during the stress of a nightmares’ climax, preventing either escape or sprint at desired velocities. Zēkē’s eyes shot up in surprise at this sudden outcry, then his head lowered, ears drooped, tail tucked – he knew he was in for it. I desperately ran over to the chair, whisking up the cowering mutt, hoping against hope that maybe… (sigh) only to discover that the damage had already been done. The glory of “Dad’s throne” – ruined.

Zēkē spent the next space of time outside on the dark patio, left to lie on the chilling/hard cement in the waning hours of summer evening’s light, dejected in the cold, rather than comfortably content on a warm, soft, friendly-lit sofa. Chin woefully on the ground, Zēkē gazed sadly at the backdoor, not knowing when (or if) his Momma was going to come and rescue him from his lonely plight. (For any of you that know Maltese, you also know that solitary confinement is their worst possible predicament). And there he lay for, what seemed to him an eternity, ruing his current, “disastrous” situation.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at how this story seemed so familiar…the “One Chair” among an abundance of others – the One, from which a dog could learn the “knowledge” of “good and evil” (or the difference between a “Mean Mommy” and a “Nice Mommy” in Zēkē’s case). With a quick switch of time, setting, and characters, you could easily see the story of the Garden of Eden, and the Fall of Adam and Eve. Adam’s apple is still falling; even the animals are subjected to the fate of man’s sin. Why else would a dog disobey his master, after learning, knowing, and being forbidden to do the very thing his “sinful” nature insisted he’d do?

And what does sin bring us in turn? We never get away with it; not really. No matter how hard we try. In the end, it gets us left outside, in the cold, away from the inner warmth of fellowship and embrace with the Lord, doomed to remain under sin’s curse: death and disease.

But there IS a redemptive plan! The key to redemption: repentance and forgiveness.

Just when Zēkē thought he’d never come back inside, the backdoor opened! Ears perked, head raised in hopeful, albeit hesitant, expectation, Zēkē looked at me wishfully, as I stood in the doorway with hands on my hips. “Well, what do you say? Are you ready to come back in?” With a pitiful grunt, Zēkē slowly turned over onto his back, striking an “I surrender!” pose (i.e. falling on his back, baring his tummy with legs straight up in the air) – to which I responded by picking him up, carrying him inside, and receiving his repentant kisses all over my nose, chin, face, and fingers.

Likewise, SomeOne came to get US from the outside! The Law shut the door on us, leaving us out in the cold, a place that we deserved. But the door reopened regardless – and there stood Jesus. Jesus wasn’t satisfied with leaving us out to be cold and lonely, even if our sin justified such a state. He didn’t want His Beloved to have to stay separated from what He had intended for her in the first place: union. He came to us, and will carry us back inside, safe in His arms, if we’ll let Him by striking our “surrender” pose, acknowledging our guilt, and receiving His forgiveness and reconciliation.

And redemption gives us an interesting ending. Our relationship becomes stronger than it was at first! From that night forward, Zēkē became irrevocably attached to me! You wouldn’t think that he, having received discipline for his wrong committed, would react in such a way, but this was precisely the case! It was as if he decided that his Momma was his best friend because she laid down the law and enforced punishment for the boundaries crossed. Or was it because I opened the door and relieved his “suffering”? Either way – his affection for me only intensified after the incident’s conclusion.

A redeemed relationship is an even sweeter one than what it was in the first! A redeemed relationship wipes away tears, comforts and relieves pain and shame, and brings a healing bond that strengthens the union between the parties involved. It’s a union that understands the knowledge of “good” and “evil,” deciding that the former is far better than the bitter taste of the latter, and it affords a deeper appreciation of the gift of what this “good” truly is.

I know – this is a simple story; it’s the story of a dog that disobeyed, received disciplined, and then was later reconciled. But sometimes stories like this help us see, even in the simplicity of the day to day, what Christ’s love for us really is: it’s simple; but by far the most profound love imaginable.

Hope you enjoyed today’s story.