...broken and crushed

 

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.

Psalm 34:18

What does “victory in Christ” look like? Is it prosperity? Is it success? Is it being educated? Is it employment? Is it living in health? What is it? Don’t get me wrong, I am not looking down on any of these indicators of wellbeing. However, when I think about victory, the first thing that comes to mind is Christ on the cross, exclaiming “it is finished!”. What does He look like? He is bloody, mangled, alone, heartbroken, dirty, naked, shredded – and not in a good way. That is THE ultimate vision of victory.

When I think of my own experience and the season that I am living, I am often aware of the disconnect of the definition of victory that the contemporary church espouses. I hear message after message about living in victory, acting on Christ’s victory; about having freedom and deliverance from sin, and I feel excluded. Why do I feel excluded? Could it be that their definition of victory minimizes the struggle that I am in? Could it be that the church points to me as the sinner, and does not address the fact that I was sinned against? Today’s church is ill equipped to deal with survivors of trauma, and chooses to address the sin issue from a very surface level. It is the same attitude that society has towards survivors, in which the victim is blamed for “allowing”, or “putting themselves in a dangerous situation”. Our society, our culture, our church assumes that we had any control over the circumstances. So, I ask you, what control did I have as a four-year old, over my perpetrators? What part of that, or the recurrent violence, neglect, and rejection, do I have to confess and repent?

During this season, the church has chosen to label me a sinner; that my coping mechanisms are sinful and I must be “delivered”. REALLY??? That is the best you can do?!? At this moment, I feel like the woman at the well, judged, marginalized, and excluded (John 4). What I need is compassion, assurance, companionship as I walk through this, understanding and acknowledging that THIS is part of the healing journey and victory in Christ.

This path that I have chosen towards freedom and victory will not resemble yours. It will most likely never look like what the church calls victory; and, I’m ok with that. Today, I understand that I am heartbroken because of what I had to endure, and the fact that I will not be able to come face to face with those who did so much damage to my young psyche. I understand that I will not get justice on this side of existence, and I’m ok with that. I hear my son telling me the parable of the mirror. there are two ways of breaking a mirror. When I break it, I know why I broke and where all the pieces are, and what I must do to fix it. But, when somebody else shatters the mirror, I may not know the motivation, or may not know where all the pieces went. In that case there is no way of knowing whether or not that mirror can be repaired. There are parts of me that can be treated. There are parts of me that can be managed. There are parts of me that can be healed. There are parts of me that will not heal, unless there is supernatural divine intervention. That is my prayer and my trust: that the GOOD healing work that the Lord began in me, will be completed because of His faithfulness, His compassion, His steadfastness, His perseverance.

 Today, I sense Holy Spirit’s comfort and soothing reminding me that some things can be resolved here and now, yet there are other parts that are not yet fixed. I sense Holy Spirit’s assurance that it will take time to find all the missing pieces. It’s like the art of kintsugi, (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The philosophy behind kintsugi is to value an object's beauty, as well as its imperfections, focusing on them equally as something to celebrate, not disguise. (https://concreteunicorn.com/blogs/journal/from-broken-to-beautiful-the-power-of-kintsugi)

So, coming full circle, what is victory in Christ? I understand it to be the assurance that we, through Christ’s crucifixion, have victory over death, sin, and those spiritual forces that wish to combat against us (1 Corinthians 15: 57). We acknowledge that there is a battle. It will happen whether we want it, acknowledge it, or are consciously engaged in it. Unfortunately, in this war there are no conscientious objectors; “every one fights, no one quits!” [yes, I just used a movie quote. It is your prerogative to find out which one.]

do you see this woman?

"...this woman...", do you see her like I, Jesus, see her? Can you appreciate the totality of what she represents, the vulnerability of her station, the courage to interrupt, the strength to keep moving forward despite the pain and shame? These are a few of the questions that come up whenever I encounter the names of women who dared to follow Jesus.

They broke with tradition. They disrupted societal norms. They faced scorn, punishment, isolation, menacing spiritual forces, and death. They looked at their enemies in the eye and shouted, "NOT TODAY SATAN!!!"

Consider Mary, mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Photini-the woman at the well, the woman accused of adultery, the woman who dared to touch the hem of Jesus' robe, and so many other women disciples. They all shared one common trait, they fearlessly followed Jesus.

Now, let's be real, at some point they had to have experienced conflicting emotions, fear and trepidation, uncertainty,  loneliness, longing to belong somewhere knowing that this world was not their home. How many tears were shed in silence? How many nights spent screaming into a piece of cloth stuffed in the mouth to muffle the anguish, the pain, the shame? How many miles walked thru wilderness, dirt, wind, rain, muddy terrain, hill and valley? Can you see them? Do you see them today?

They are all around us, and Jesus is still asking "do you see this woman?" A woman who has faced her family and community in her teenage years with a belly full of baby.

Another woman who is being tormented by demons. Yet another one who cannot show up at the appointed time for women to get water from the well because she has been rejected by her husbands and despised by the rest of the community. Do you see them?

These women still walk among us looking for a fraction of compassion. I am that woman, still here, still crying, still asking "do you see THIS woman?" We are seeking solutions that endure not just a bandaid. We do not need to hear more stories, nor empty platitudes. We need assurance. We need affirmation and confirmation. We need healing. We need a universe to breathe and expand. We need water to swim, to flow, to move, to clean and purify. We need fire to burn, to glow, to illuminate.

WE NEED TO BE SEEN AS WE ARE!

it's been a minute...

Today, I begin as I do most days, with a sweet concoction of hot rich foamy brown elixir that wakes up the neurons and soothes my soul. Ooooh, uuuuuh, aaaah, the joy of coffee!

 I open the lectio app and prepare myself for the morning meditation. The reading is based on Luke 4:16-21.

Imagine and visualize with me...

 The setting is a Shabbat gathering at the community synagogue in Nazareth, Galilee. There are at least 10 men, age 20 and up, waiting to hear a reading from the Law and the Prophets. The attendant hands a scroll to a young man. He looks familiar but we can't quite connect the face with a name. He slowly and reverently handles the scroll, unrolling it until he finds a particular passage. He reads:

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me,      because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour." (vv 18-19, NIVUK)

He sits down, possibly using the same posture other teachers assume when dictating their commentary on a text. As he speaks, "words of grace... proceeded from his mouth" (v 22). That's the moment people start asking each other, 

--wait a minute, hold up... ain't that Joe's kid? You know, the carpenter's son?

-- sure is! What's his name? Jesse? Um... Jed? Josiah? JESUS!!!! 

--yup, that's right.

All of a sudden, we realize Jesus is in "da house", back in "da hood". But wait, what did he just read?!? Isaiah 61. And, what did he just say? That this scripture had been fulfilled today, in our ears! Oh, no, he didn't!!! Yup, he sure did.

Picture once again, Jesus in the middle of a community gathering, on the day we set aside for the Lord. Put that day in the context of Luke's narrative.  About a month and a half ago, Jesus had been baptized by his own cousin, the weirdo who lives outside the city, dresses like a wild man, eats bugs, and is always yelling "REPENT!" Some people are saying that when Jesus came out of the water, there was some kind of loud voice that said something important about him, and John just "lost his mind", talking about some lamb who will pardon the sins of the world. 

THEN, that same Jesus goes out in the wilderness without food for like... a long time. AND THEN, he has three different conversations with the dude from the other side of the battle line. By the way, Jesus won that debate and he went back home. BUT,

"... Jesus returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee: and a fame went out concerning him through all the region round about." (v14, ASV)

Jesus, the son of Joseph, goes to the synagogue in the Spirit! Opens the scroll, in the Spirit! Looks for a specific passage, in the Spirit! Reads, in the Spirit! And declares a word of GRACE, in their ears, in the Spirit!!!! That word is a challenge to put religion into action. It is a declaration of his intention to hear the plight of the poor, the convict, the sick, the marginalized, the disenfranchised, and do something about it.

Everything he did that day was intentional. Everything He said that day was done in the Spirit. And what about us? Today, are we in the Spirit? Are we being intentional? Are we challenging the status quo? The ball is in our court. God is waiting on us.

another day, another tear

How do I feel today? Can I name my emotions? Can I put a label to the hurricane of sadness manifesting in my brain? Is there a end to this? Is there something that can take away this pain. YES, I know there is! Today, it just feels so far away, like I'm a million miles away from the throne of justice and righteousness. 

I look at myself in the mirror and all I see are rolls and folds of flesh. It seems like they have been there forever. They have taken residence in my body, like a bad tenant who refuses to acknowledge their eviction notice. Are there marshalls or sheriff that I can call to do a forced eviction. NOPE. Not when it comes to fat. It refuses to move. Right now, i feel paralyzed. There are a plethora of activities that I could be doing, yet I have ZERO energy to do them.

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?