Put Yourself into Position

Someone is waiting for you

“Jacob’s well was there; and Jesus, tired from the long walk, sat wearily beside the well about noontime.”  

John 4:6, NLT

This is a remarkable account of Jesus’ humanity.  He is tired.  He had been walking for a long time.  It was hot and sticky,  and He finds a cool place by an historic well to sit.  His legs were exhausted.  The funny thing is that we are so quick to emphasize our energy and vigor, and regard that to be our spirituality.  But, if we are honest, we also have times of fatigue.

It’s instructive to note that while Jesus is very tired, He is still in the very center of the Father’s will.  When I get tired, I just shut down, and retreat.  I will often just “unplug” and I’m not very spiritual.  But Jesus remains receptive, and even though He is so tired, He is activated by the Holy Spirit.  I would like to suggest that perhaps too often we let our humanity direct our spirit.

By choosing to sit by the well, in the hottest part of the day, Jesus positions Himself to wait.  He inserts Himself in the Will of God.  It is intentional.  He is waiting for her to come.  He has an appointment, and the Kingdom of God is scheduled to break out in the life of a certain woman.

It is imperative that we weave the spiritual into the fabric of the physical. 

This is important because ministry happens more frequently then we imagine.  It happens when we are really tired.  (And maybe more!).  Inserting yourself into God’s Will is an intentional act of love.  It is putting yourself into the flow, and committing a deliberate act of faith.

Jesus wants to marinate us in His presence, to be saturated in the capability that He wants to give us.

We may be tired and wanting to retreat in our fatigue.  But our spiritual man rarely gets weary, we just let our flesh dictate what we will and will not do.  I challenge you to wait expectantly for the the flow to bring to you those in your appointment book.

bry-signat-1

cropped-christiangraffiti1 (2)

 

 

There is a Crack in Everything

“Ring the bells that still can ring/Forget your perfect offering/There is a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.”

Leonard Cohen,  Anthem

A crack in everything. As someone who has experienced brokenness in my life,  I appreciate the wisdom of these simple words. You see, I am intensely aware of being different then others.

I had a night job working my way through school frying donuts.  I remember clearly an incident were I overheard my boss telling someone that, “Bryan is one of the most eccentric people I have ever met.” Now I honestly was not trying to be odd, or eccentric.

To put this in perspective, I just happened to be taking N.T. Greek at the time and knew that the word for eccentric was a contraction, (of ek, meaning “off, or off to one side, and “centros”, meaning, “center”).  He was saying that I was “off centered”. That really troubled me because I always felt like I was intensely stable, and very much a well-balanced person. (But I was just 22.  I guess that fact alone explains much.)

Cohen’s poem tells us certain things. First, he describes bells that can’t be used, they don’t work anymore. Second, he tells us of our need to get real and to understand that “a perfect offering” is beyond our capability. Maybe 30 years ago, ‘naive idealism’ might have carried the day for us. But now I’m in my mid-50s  and I have tried to figure out a thing or two.   By then we start to see the cracks in everything, nothing has gone by untouched. We live in a fallen and broken world.

But the poet delivers a paradoxical truth, he states, “that’s how the light gets in.”

To learn this deeply, is to turbocharge your recovery. You’re a broken person. But that is actually a good thing. It summons up a discernment of how we grow spiritually.

I find it quite astonishing that the broken, weak, and the burned-out are closer to the Kingdom then the strong, the sure, and the gifted. This is a rich and an incredible truth, we are to see our brokenness and ruination in a whole different perspective.  We must see that that is how the light gets in.

“Blessed are the poor in Spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.”

Matthew 5:3

“God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.”

Vance Havner

bry-signat-1

cropped-christiangraffiti1 (2)

 

The Wind

butterfly-2

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
~2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (NIV)

The Wind

Your love is a violent wind
Sweeping away my pain and sin

Your grace is a babbling brook
Soothing the chaos within my soul

You warm me when all I feel is cold
When my heart is frozen in dread and fear

Your consuming Spirit draws me near
“Hush My child, for you are Mine”

And like a tiny caterpillar
Released from its cocoon
I fly aloft on Your gentle breeze
I am free as a butterfly

aasignLinda

Peanut Butter, Hot Lunch and Dreams

Warning: Rambling post, very tedious. Don’t operate heavy equipment for two hours after reading this post.

I grew up in a big, brick house in Northern Wisconsin. Our beautiful home hid our desperate poverty, and it was quite difficult. My father and mother scraped by enough each week to feed and clothe us. But just barely.  Mom would take some elbow macaroni, and mix it with stewed tomatoes (from a dwindling supply she tried to manage.)

I was oblivious to our precarious situation.  I carried a plain peanut butter sandwich to school for years, but I had a simple dream of getting “hot lunch.” I was tired of peanut butter, as I watched all the other kids eat pizza, hamburgers and (my fav. mashed potatoes with a pat of butter.) I ate PB for several years.  You could stucco a house with what I ate.

I wasn’t really settled in my heart or thinking.  I developed into a bipolar childhood that had quite a bit of depression, and a load of impulsivity.  I was an impossible child, and I  was out-of-control. I was either terribly manic or profoundly depressed.  My Mom and Dad simply didn’t know or grasp my mental illness and how it was effecting me.

A repeated nightmare worked its claws into my thinking. I would wake up sobbing, almost inconsolable. I had this dream several times in my teens, and can still 40 years later taste the panic. In this dream, I would be lifted up and laid on a slow conveyor belt.  I would be on my back, and I would see over my feet a giant roller.  This roller had big nobs on it and it was rolling over what the conveyor belt brought to it.  In this dream I was paralyzed, unable to escape this giant crushing roller.  I kept fighting, and trying to escape.  But, I was completely frozen.

I would waken just as my feet met the roller.  The fear I had was as intense as any I ever had.  (Except when I had to go down to the basement, but that was more reasonable.)  I would repeat this dream several times, and it was always the same.  I haven’t had this dream for 30 years or more, but it still has a potency and fear to make me edgy.

Over the many years I have thought about this.  I certainly don’t want to mysticize it, or try to force an interpretation out of it.  But it has struck me as a metaphor of my life to some degree.  In this dream I was moving toward an inevitable crushing.  The paralyzing panic was a fair description of where I was at spiritually.

This explanation may sound childish and simplistic.  But it is so workable, and brings a certain comprehension to these terrible moments of fear. And our dreams, well, they are funny things.  All of us, somehow, and in some strange fashion are treated to a surrealistic and fantastical mini-story as we sleep. But what does it mean?

Much of the time, upon awakening, we try to piece together both the chronology and the meaning of what we had just dreamed.  It’s hard to do, most of the time it justs slips away.  Yet, our inner heart always wonders if that particular dream was “good, bad or ugly.”  There are rare times when we can grab on a sequence of events, and relay it to a close friend.

Some things will never be revealed in this lifetime.  But I believe there are certain things in our dreams that the Holy Spirit chooses to bring to light.  We are never sanctioned to seek the meaning of our dreams, but only the Lord Himself.  We should never lean on our understanding, but on our Father and His Word.

P.S. I realize in writing this, I don’t like peanut butter at all.

bry-signat (1)

cropped-christiangraffiti1.jpg