Category: an intense love

Paranoia and Delusions, Oh My!

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Didn’t really sleep last night but an interesting day.  Hope it continues to develop in that direction.  I really need a good day to come along right now.

Been thinking about paranoia.  It comes loaded up with delusions.  They are separate words, but when they make that toxic combination it gets strange.  Are people out to get me?  Probably not.  People are by far and away more apt to dismiss me then to plot against me.

Paranoia is the belief in a hidden order behind the visible.

Delusions are a strong belief in something despite superior evidence to the contrary.

I don’t know why this is such a hard concept to hold on.  Paranoia is intensely self-absorbed and egocentric.  Everything is conspiring to destroy me is a very foolish way to live.  In a culture already overheated by egomania, to offend me becomes a declaration of war.  My paranoia makes you a mortal enemy.  But to act from that destroys me.  I only take it deeper and make it easier to slide into the next time.

Paranoia is not rational.  You can not reason with it.  (You certainly have my permission.)  For me, I win the battle over paranoia and delusions by “displacement”, pushing it out by adding in the presence of Jesus. The Holy Spirit fills us and flushes out the bad. At least that is what it feels like.

When I recognize Him to be the good shepherd, He watches over my thoughts like sheep.  He protects me from paranoia’s snares and thorns. I experience peace when He is present. I find Jesus actively helps me in this.

There are times I hear the voices, and “see” the monstrous faces leering out of the wallpaper. But more often I concoct delusions about people who I feel have slighted me. Paranoia provides plenty of grist for me to grind. I’m learning how to recognize the lies, and the liar who speaks them to me.

“For God did not give us a spirit of timidity (of cowardice, of craven and cringing and fawning fear), but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control.”

2 Timothy 1:7, AMP

Often I hear what seems like a telegraph, a varying ‘dot-dash-dot.’ It is very loud and obtrusive, but I know now it’s not real. I read a cool quote, that made me laugh, “I was walking home one night and a guy hammering on a roof called me a paranoid little weirdo. In morse code.”  -Emo Phillips

I hope your day goes good.

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Working God’s Night Shift

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Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem
A song for going up to worship.

134 “Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord,
    you who serve at night in the Temple of the Lord.
2 Raise your hands in the Temple
    and praise the Lord.

3 May the Lord bless you from Mount Zion,
    he who made heaven and earth.”

Psalm 134, NCV

This remarkable Psalm is part of an elite group known as “the Psalms of Ascent.” These 15 were sung as the congregation of Israel went up the steps of the temple in Jerusalem. They would sing each in “rounds” with each other. As you can well imagine, this made the ascent slow, but meaningful.

As you read the three verses, I get a picture of worshipers turning back and blessing the Levites. This takes place at the very end of the day. The Levites, and other godly ones who lived in the Temple, (remember Anna and Simeon, in Luke 2?) They were the support staff for the priests.

Commentary

V. 1, “Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord,
you who serve at night in the Temple of the Lord.”

The first significant thought is “Lord” mentioned three times. The word is the recognition of someone’s status and standing. We call Him Lord, because He is that (and more).

The second has to deal with the Levitical “night shift.” They served and guarded the Temple during the wee hours of the night. They probably cleaned, stacked wood, sharpened knives and maintained the Holy Place with its needs.

There was no real glory working the night shift. There were no people to serve. The crowds were for the day shift. (Here’s a weird thought– think “Disneyland at 2:00 a.m.”) There was also a contingent of non-Levite people ministering to the Lord as well. They had no duties, and only the priests could serve through their work.

The Levites working at night were not ‘second best.’ At least, not in the eyes of the Holy Spirit. They were integral in both presence and service to the Lord. To despise them is to reveal one’s ignorance. They definitely mattered.

V. 2 “Raise your hands in the Temple
and praise the Lord.”

I’ve worked nights before. It’s a real adjustment. You never feel like you’ve had enough sleep, and it is really hard to be positive and cheerful.  I could get pretty grouchy at times.

But an exhortation is given, a shout and a blessing as the crowds leave. “Raise up your hands– and praise Him!” It is as the work, although necessary, would be secondary. The worship however, was primary. We need to hear that.

V. 3, “May the Lord bless you from Mount Zion,
he who made heaven and earth.”

To be blessed (literally, made “lucky”) by our Creator and Lord is pretty profound. As a kid who read a lot, I think of ‘fairy dust.’ I know better now, but to be blessed by God is deeply significant.

To summarize, I believe this Psalm is speaking of those in the church who are doing “hidden service.” No one sees them really. They go about there duties quietly, and purposefully. The only recognition is from God– who sees all.

I must encourage you to keep on. There are many more than you think who see your hidden ministry to the Father. You are His ‘night shift.’ You’re seen by few, but Him. He knows what you do.

aabryscript

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A Fog Like a Cage Without a Key

Walking-in-the-Fog“That’s the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it’s impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key.”

Elizabeth Wurtzel

Depression is a stealthy thief; anxiety is like an unwanted guest. Both are brutal companions to have skulking around. They carry misery wheresoever they go.

A good many people simply don’t understand you. They often chalk up feelings like this to a lack of faith. And true, there maybe these issues. We understand having faith to be healed. But what about faith to be sick? Isn’t this just as important?

I have to believe that being a broken believer, with a mental illness, is as formidable challenge. I have to believe that holding a faith in a merciful God in my depression is as critical as any miraculous healing. [It may even take more faith.]

I believe in supernatural healing. Jesus Christ is the same today as when He walked the shores of Galilee. I trust in His grace and know His power. Many are touched by His healing hand.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” 

Hebrews 13:8

Depression comes– and it irrevocably changes me. But mixed with an ample dose of His love, it loses much of the sting. I know it is painful and seems endless. But the Lord promises to deliver me, and He is always faithful. Always faithful. Always.

Faith handles chronic depression quite handily. It has never lost a single bout. I want to encourage you today. If you’re not in the throes of deep depression now, begin to build your faith for those lean times ahead. Start to stock up provisions spiritually.

If I have throughly confused you, I apologize. Perhaps this post was meant for someone else, and that’s ok too. Oh, and that fog— there is a key.

“For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 1:6, NASB

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Pressed Roses

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33, ESV

This world is not our friend. And then we often face issues that create ugly things–  a fight with a spouse, poor choices, money problems– a lengthy list that seems that we’re always adding new entries. And as we each of us work through our tears, as we face sickness, loneliness, fear and misunderstanding.

In this world of woe and trouble, we discover that life is itself often brutal. Myself, I must deal with clinical depression, paranoia and physical pain. It is constant, a barrage of challenging things. Sometimes they swallow me up, and I lose my way.

I was thinking this morning, of a recent find in the pages of an old book– pressed rose petals! The book had been many years on the shelf. When I opened the book they I found them.  Typically, they are fairly well preserved. They still have color and shape. And most of all, they still have a fragrance.

I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do when this happens. Do I just “read” around them, or do I physically remove them? I almost feel that they are sacred or something. Do I find an old jar and store them? But no matter what I do, I always pause and think. Sometimes though, I can even remember the incident that they were given. An anniversary or a birthday maybe? Or sometimes they are given, “just because.”

Two distinct thoughts work in me. I look at the hard, hard things that I have had to process through my past, and present, and most likely, my future. I have to believe, from all that I have read and the preaching I have heard over the years that my pain gets turned into gold (or into roses!) This is exclusively a work of God. The second thought is a little bit harder to think through. But Jesus is the rose. He is the beauty and the fragrance of heaven come to earth.

There is an old fable kept by the believers of the first century; it was said that wherever Jesus stepped while on earth, roses would spring up in His footprints. This is only a legend of course, but that doesn’t mean that it is all false. Some of these stories have more truth in them than we think.

 

Coming to Him is such pleasant thing. It shouldn’t be an agonizing ordeal. It is not a painful or real sacrifice. After all, He is the rose. Roses are beautiful, they have a definite fragrance. There is a symmetry to them, and they are special, people will cultivate them for their beauty. Roses are never a hassle, for some reason we can never send or get too many.

“I am the rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.”

Songs 2:1, ESV

“A discipleship without flowers, probably isn’t worth having.”

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