turn the page

Another day, another turn of the page of this chapter in the series of chapters I call my life. This one does not seem to be particularly eventful, nor happy-joy-joy. This chapter just is. One day blends into another. The only way to measure the passage of time is by the number of stitches incorporated into my latest creative endeavor. Then, I sit back and marvel at the precious blankets born out of all those stitches.

 my heart is moved with compassion and empathy for the little person that will be wrapped up in warmth by this yarn confection. This motivates and stimulates the creative "juices" in my brain. I want to do more of this. Right now, this is the thread that is holding together the tapestry that is being woven by the events in my life. Right now, this brings me a sense of purpose in a very weird way. It's like I'm crocheting yarn with meditation, blessings, and prayer, bringing forth something of lasting value. Who knows what will become of it?

All I know is that over the years I have crocheted, cross-stitched, sewn, and quilted many baby blankets and passed them on. Today, I reflect on all those babies that are now grown men and women. I wonder what they are doing. I guess when Messiah comes I'll find out.

In the meantime, I keep stitching and praying... yarn over, insert the hook, yarn over, pull through... breathe...pause...pray... yarn over... insert... you get the idea. 

I can only pray:

Holy Spirit, however I may feel about this chapter of my life, would You show me the redemptive thread You’re weaving through my story. As I listen, please speak words of life and hope to me.

In Jesus' name. Amen.

some days...

I want to cry, scream, shout, just let it all out!!! But there is no voice. There are no tears. No strength. No desire to do. I don't even want to move.

I know that there are a million things that need to get done and I have zero desire to do any of it. I want to quit. I don't want to quit forever, but I just wanna stop for a little while.

I wanna identify what it is that is causing me to be this way. There's no feeling, no drive, no want.

I'm gonna go put my feet up on the wall for a while. See if that helps.

Later... 

Much later.. .

Yes, yes it does. Streeeeeetching. It seems like almost effortless, no sweat activity yet it brings such a feeling of satisfaction.  AND, it is movement, a rolling moving meditation.

Then, I move on to reading my favorite book, Psalms, specifically the lament passages. I feel like the psalmist. I can identify with the grief, the angst, the desperation, the loneliness, the longing to be in the presence of our Shepherd... to be in the shadow of the Omnipotent... to be shielded... to be rescued... to be covered... to be lovingly carried.... to be certain that when...

 I cry aloud to God; I cry aloud, and he hears me. In times of trouble I pray to the Lord; all night long I lift my hands in prayer, but I cannot find comfort. When I think of God, I sigh; when I meditate, I feel discouraged. He keeps me awake all night; I am so worried that I cannot speak. I think of days gone by and remember years of long ago. I spend the night in deep thought; I meditate, and this is what I ask myself: 'Will the Lord always reject us? Will he never again be pleased with us? Has he stopped loving us? Does his promise no longer stand? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has anger taken the place of his compassion? Then I said, “What hurts me most is this— that God is no longer powerful.'" (Psalm 77:1-10.GNT)

is that even possible? Sometimes it feels that way. It felt that way for Moses, for Job, for Ezekiel, for Paul, for Mary watching her first born breathing his last breath on the cross! It happens to ALL of us. We express it in different ways.  It is part of our human condition.

Also, part of our human condition

is to rise up, to shake a fist heavenward, to hit the ground with both fists, to stomp, to shout, to whirl and twirl, to raise our arms and SCREAM until there is no more strength. Whether we do this physically or figuratively, it is a necessary dance of fury and emotion that is bound to get SomeOne's attention. And when we do, oooooh,

it is like a mother rushing to gather that child up in her arms, to fiercely hold on as we move, scream, flail until we have no more strength. And momma shushes and rocks back and forth... back and forth... back and forth. We sigh, we hiccup, we cough, we sigh. Our eyes slowly close, and there is only sweet peace and rest.

It's ok, all is well. We can rest, we can sleep, we can trust the arms that carry us. (Psalm 4:8)

listen, listen, linda...

I remember a few years ago a short video that went viral about a little boy arguing with his adult saying, "listen, Linda, listen, listen...". I still chuckle at that. It also causes me to question my ability to listen carefully and intentionally. Am I listening just to hear sound waves? Or am I checking for accuracy to make sure that what I am hearing is what the emitter of the sound intended.

Recently, I've been contacted by several people who are "sensing" a heaviness, a pressure, sometimes a deep sadness, or a weight on their chest. I can identify with all of the above. It makes sense to attribute those feelings to depression, if it is at the individual level. BUT, when several people are experiencing similar things independent of each other I have to stop, pray and listen.

The easiest thing to identify is the global state of affairs. All we have to do is read a newspaper or listen to a news program to get sucked into the doomsday scenario. BUT, there's more. From a psychological perspective, there seems to be a resurgence of hedonism thinly disguised as leaving our cares behind for the sake of our sanity. We only have one body and one life to live so we must make the best of it. This a "carpe diem" on steroids, or quaaludes, whatever may be your preference. BUT, wait, there's more.

From a spiritual standpoint, this could be an invitation. Listen, Linda, listen... consider this;

Picture this scenario, Old Testament Israel is taken to Babylon as captives. Ezekiel, the priest that did not want to be a prophet but God gave him visions anyways, sees the glory of the Lord as it rises and leaves the temple. He has that silent scream panic moment as he realizes that he's out of a job. So, no priestly work, no more sacrifices, no more cleaning utensils, no purpose, no identity. His entire sense of being was tied to that building. Now, there's no building. Yikes, what to do? 

Now, granted I'm looking at this from a post messianic perspective. That is, I am comfortable with the idea of God not having geo-political restrictions nor space/time limitations. I am aware of the ubiquitousness of God's pressence.

However,  for Ezekiel it was inconceivable to consider God outside of the temple, especially in Babylon. I submit for your consideration that Ezekiel, and many like him, had forgotten their history. They forgot how the Presence of God tabernacled with them constantly; how the people were guided through the desert by a cloud by day and a column of fire by night. They forgot that God was with them from Egypt to Canaan, and everywhere in between. They forgot so much. And now, God was letting them know that once again His presence was available everywhere, not just in Jerusalem.  Yes, it's ok to cry and grieve the loss of land, country, leadership, etc. Nevertheless, God was there with them, as He was in the desert. God was in the process of transforming the priesthood, but the priests would not listen! God was inviting them to enter the process of preparing the way for the coming of Messiah. All of them were given signs, yet only a few understood.

Bring it back to today. We could very well succumb to the "doomsayers" and the "ay, benditos" (PR speak). We could choose our own healing and wellbeing path by learning to not give a $#&@! We could just throw the covers over our head and go back to sleep. Or, we could choose to listen, REALLY listen. Something amazing is happening around us. It seems to be some sort of invitation. I don't know what it is yet. BUT, I choose to listen and pay attention. I choose to enter the dialogue with The Source of Wisdom. I choose to listen and obey Jesus' declaration, let those who have ears to hear, listen to what the Spirit is saying. 

How about you?