The Epiphany of the Red Shoes

My Red Shoes
My Red Shoes

A few weeks ago, my morning routine had taken me outside on our deck.  I just sat and was soaking up the first rays and drinking a cup of coffee.  My mind usually flits about; and I think about many different things.  I’d like to say that at least some are engaged with challenging issues.  But most though are a bit strange and out of bounds.  It seems at times to be like trying to put a leash on a wild dog.

Sitting there on a deck chair, I thought about the shoes I was wearing.  They were black clogs and I wore them everywhere.  I’ve had them for four or five years.  They had liners, so I could even wear them during winter.  As I sat there, it occurred to me that I have always bought and worn either black, or brown shoes.  Always.  As I considered this preference, it struck me as odd.  Why did I always buy dull and ordinary shoes?

I knew right then that I must buy red shoes!

Out back in the recesses of my mind, a thought burst into my thinking, it was like fireworks just went off.  I would buy red shoes!  I would retire my faithful sandals and wear red ones instead.  I set down my coffee cup and headed for my laptop.  I ordered a comfortable pair of Crocs, in crimson red.

I waited for the postman like a child waits for Christmas. 

I was energized by the thought of having red shoes.  I do a lot of things spontaneously.  I can be far too impulsive, and it usually gets me in trouble.  But when they arrived, they were even better then I expected.  I put them on and started to prance around the house.  And to see a 62 year old man acting like a ten year old must have been a sight.  I didn’t want to take them off, and later I even flitted with the idea of even wearing them to bed.

Wearing my new red shoes was a profound experience which I didn’t anticipate. It may seem weird but when I wear them the feeling is somewhat like falling in love, or at least a reasonable facsimile.  Perhaps if its nothing, I’m willing to accept that.

I think of God’s grace and how extraordinary it is.

We can reside in a barren wasteland of a tedious existence where joy is seldom found. I know this is true. But there can be an infusion of mercy in such places. A grace that meets with us and alters us. I believe we are to be “grace blasted” believers living with a sense of wonder over the kindness of God. He has chosen us to be His own sons and daughters.

“And I will be your Father, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.”

2 Corinthians 6:18

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Thanks for reading!

Walking This Broken Road by Faith

credit: www.internetmonk.com
credit: http://www.internetmonk.com

In one of my early blog posts at lindakruschke.wordpress.com, I was lamenting that remembering my past made me a little blue, because I had regrets and things have happened to me that were less than wonderful. But I have been reminded that I am who I am because of my history.

A week later I was listening to the CD  Stay by Jeremy Camp in my car alot. One of the songs on that CD is called Walk by Faith, but all week I really haven’t tuned into that song even though it is the one I really needed to hear. Then one night I was listening to my iPod while I was making dinner, and had it on shuffle of my Christian Music playlist. This is something I hadn’t done for awhile – I had listening to the Oldies playlist or the Sad Heartache Songs playlist instead. I started out that night listening to the Grunge playlist, but it wasn’t helping my mood at all (now that’s a big surprise, not).

It just so happened that the third song to play on the Christian music playlist while I was chopping veggies for homemade chicken noodle soup was Walk by Faith. The chorus goes like this:

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Well because this broken road
Prepares Your will for me

As I heard those words, I realized that the broken road I have traveled (and don’t we all travel a broken road of some kind?) has made me who I am. It has taught me love, compassion, empathy, and, most importantly, faith. If my life had been perfect and easy, with no pain and heartache, first of all I wouldn’t be human. But secondly, I would be a different, perhaps shallower person. I might not even be happy.

So I have decided not to lament or regret my past, but to see it for what it is: the broken road that has prepared me to be the person God wants me to be to those around me. Because ultimately, those around me have traveled a broken road too. And sometimes it is a very similar broken road so that we can relate to each other’s journey. Maybe, as I walk that road by faith, I can help others to walk by faith, too.

Besides, without the lessons learned on my broken road I would have nothing but fluff to write and my blogging would have no purpose.

Have you been walking a broken road? Have faith that God will use your experiences to make you the person He has planned for you to be so that you can be a blessing to others walking that broken road with you.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ.  If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.  And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many. 2 Corinthians 1:3-11 (NIV).

^

aasignLinda

Tightrope Theology

As a person with a mental illness, it seems my issues are a matter of extremes.  Life seems uncontrollable; the wheels seem to always ready to come off of the wagon.  It strikes me as a semi-crazed place to be.  I look at the “norms” with envy, as their lives are crisp, healthy, and strong.

I once met a man that had a prophetic ministry who was speaking at a local church here in Alaska.  When I met with him, he looked at me intently.  He said many things, but the most significant was this. “You are an unstable man; you are like water.”  This was almost 30 years ago.  It has been an accurate prophecy and assessment since I heard it.  At first it stung, I hated it; but now, all these years later, I find a certain comfort in it.  God knows me; He understands.  I haven’t found any reason to be condemned for being Bipolar.

Those of us who walk the tightrope of sanity and insanity have One in heaven who not only knows us, but is on our side.  Hebrews 7:25 declares:

“Consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.”

I must realize that I am not the “bad apple in the barrel,” nor am I cursed.  Rather the opposite is true.  I am the richest of all men, because of His radical grace that gets extended to the weakest. Those who “touch” my life are blessed by their contact with me, and since I have been so unnaturally “graced,” they become blessed by His presence through me. WOW! I simply need to be me, and they are drawn to you.

The issues that a mentally ill person (and those who are often a struggler and a rascal) faces are formidable.  But without His promises they are impossible.  The secular view is just to create a “zero sum” game.  It is to bring a person to some stupefied place of stasis.  Not exactly up–but not down either.  Stable, sort of.

It is very good to be stable.  But my goal can not be stability, but an obedience to a supernatural God who loves me supernaturally.  I simply can’t live without knowing that.  However, when I know it, I can handle the tightrope.  I will start to walk a “supernatural” walk.

You could say that God has a hobby, or a specialty.  It is weak and handicapped people.

He loves working with us and in us.  And I have become very much convinced that He pours out special favor on those of us who struggle so difficulty, those of us who will never fit in or be ‘normal.’

We need to come to that real and authentically holy place where we see God. But also in that place, and at the same time, we need to see ourselves as well.  And actually, both are most critical.  They are done imperfectly— but both must happen, nevertheless.

I exhort you to take on your tightrope.  You will only stay upright and cross it if you are aware of His grand love and presence.  It is an amazing thing to balance and walk, and if we fall?  Well, we drop into His net.  Get back up, and get in line again.  Secure your heart into the love of God for your soul.

aabryscript

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The Inertia, [Apathy]

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“Science may have found a cure for most evils; but it has found no remedy for the worst of them all – the apathy of human beings.”

Helen Keller

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As I suffer with manic depression I have come to see that much grief comes not from mania, and not from the debilitating depression. These are both substantial, but my biggest issue has to do with the inertia that lies between these two poles. There is a paralysis– an apathy that immobilizes me. And this is as bad as any other state of mind.

“And Elijah came to all the people, and said, “How long will you falter between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if Baal, follow him.” But the people answered him not a word.”

1 Kings 18:21

My passivity is disturbing, and bipolar disorder is as much of “detachment” as it is of extremes. I sit and stare, not able to motivate myself to get up and do something. I’m not really depressed, but nor am I manic– I’m just “there” unable to find energy to do anything. Life just rolls over me.

Perhaps the most deadly sin is this “faltering between two opinions?” We are content to just sit and watch with no commitment. We’re content to let things just roll on by as we sit in our inertia and passiveness. This is the part of my BP that scares me the most (or at least it should.)

If you suddenly went up in flames I wouldn’t stir. Yes, it would get my attention, but I probably wouldn’t do anything, (I’d probably just take notes for my book.)

Inertia is not just a part of a mental illness. It effects normal people as well, and there are degrees of it. The average person it seems will avoid making a real decisive decision at all costs. Inertia can be encountered in any church (ask a pastor who tries to get volunteers) or workplace.

In his day, Elijah cried out for a decision from the Israelite people. I have to believe he was disturbed not only by the idolatry– but by the passiveness of the bystanders. Their neutrality was a big issue.

Joshua would call out to a passive people these words:

“But if you refuse to serve the Lord, then choose today whom you will serve. Would you prefer the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates? Or will it be the gods of the Amorites in whose land you now live? But as for me and my family, we will serve the Lord.”

Joshua 24:15

I know my own heart, and I know my own spiritual paralysis. Rather than commit myself, I would rather settle down on a sofa and just let things happen. I’m quick to point out how those in the arena are doing it all wrong. I’m ready to criticize, but unwilling to volunteer.

Mental illness is filled with ordinary things, but often in the wrong proportions. When we do things it is extreme or not at all. My own apathy is just a mirror of what happens in the hearts of normal people.

I may be excessive, but my own issues have made me aware of what is happening in others.

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“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

–Theodore Roosevelt

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