THESE THINGS TAKE TIME - SANCTUS REAL

I wanna know why pain makes me stronger
I wanna know why good men die
Why am I so afraid of the dark ?
But I stray from the light

I wanna know why you gave me eyes
When faith is how I see
And tell me
Is it easier to doubt
Or harder to believe

Oh there’s so many questions stirring in me

And I wonder why
Sometimes the truth ain’t easy to find
I wanna know all the answers
But I’m learning that 
These things take time
Yeah, these things take time

How could success make us feel like failures?
And the harder we fall the harder we try
The more I have the more I need
Just to feel like I’m getting by

Oh, there’s so many questions and one short life

And I wonder why
Sometimes the truth ain’t easy to find
I wanna know all the answers
But I’m learning that 
These things take time
Yeah, these things take time

And we spend so much time
Chasing our tails, hoping to find
Every last answer
To everything in life

So many questions; Not enough time

But I’m still 
Wondering why
Sometimes the truth ain’t easy to find
I wanna know all the answers
But I’m learning that 
These things take time
Yeah, these things take time

We all wanna understand why
Evil lives and good men die
On the way to Heaven the truth unwinds
These things take time
These things take time
Yeah, these things take time

AWAKE

            Once upon a time a man lived in a town called Materiaville. The people who lived there were very sleepy all the time. In fact, a lot of the people hated being awake so much that they often drank special draughts to help them sleep. And after some time, most of the people didn't need to drink the draughts; they fell into a permanent sleep. The others spent their time either half awake, or dozing. It was rare to find anyone who was actually awake. The youngest ones were fully awake, and spent their time enjoying it, and accidentally waking up the dozing older ones, who grumbled against them, and gave them X-BOXs to help them sleep, too.

One day the little man went to a nearby town called Todefullia. And he was amazed to find that everyone who lived there was awake. “Join us!” They cried, “See what it’s like to be awake….there’s not much life in sleep.” On the town hall was an strange inscription that said:

Wake, O Sleeper. Rise From the Dead and Christ will Shine Upon You.

The little man observed how they were actually awake. He began to live with them, and realised that life awake was different to life asleep.  The food began to have taste….the wine was sweeter, and the music, laughter and love was flowing through the man’s veins for the first time in his life.  

But as time went on, he also saw why the people from Materiaville avoided being awake. The days seemed to go forever, and when there was pain, it seemed to sting more. Also, when people are awake they are forced to see each other in all their beauty and ugliness.

During his stay at Todefullia, the man learnt that soon an event called the Great Awakening would happen. When everyone would be shook to life. The scary thing, the man was told, was that when everyone was shaken, some would not wake up. And some would wake up, and hate being awake. They would spend their time searching for a way to go back to sleep.

The urgency of this event’s coming stirred the man into action.

The man stayed in Todefullia for a year, and then decided to go back to his home. He promised to try and wake the people up in Materiaville, so that they could also experience the Awakened Life. The Todefullians seemed reluctant as they watched him leave.

It turned out they had good reason, because within a small amount of time the man began to forget how good it was to be awake. Pain struck, and a full time job hit. Surrounded by sleeping people, it began to be too hard to stay awake.

The trouble is, once you have been awake, it’s very hard to go fully back to sleep. The man downed the sleeping draughts, but they didn’t last. Each time, he would surface back to reality, feel the sting of pain and quickly gulp more draughts.

After a while, the man discovered that he couldn’t easily wake up, that the moments of lucidity were few and far between. Desperately, he tried to stop drinking the draughts that seemed to have befogged him, and feel again the feelings of pain and love. It took a while, but eventually he could slap the feeling back into himself, open his eyes, and be awake again.

“Oh no!” He thought to himself, “So much time has gone by while I was sleeping.” And the man saw that to be awake with love and pain, was far better than being asleep with nothing.

Realising that the sleep was a curse, he began to frantically wake up his family. One opened their eyes hazily and grunted, “You shouldn’t eat sugar.” then turned over and went back to sleep.

His grandfather barely stirred. The most worrying ones were those who didn’t move. They couldn’t feel his urgent shaking. Their sleep was like that of the dead.

He received varying degrees of response. The younger ones still remembered what it was like to be awake, and most of them got up more easily.

Some others got angry at the shaking, and sleep walked over and beat the crap out of the man.

Eventually, the man gave way to the tempting pull of the sleep, and dozed off.

For God's Sake, Don't Delay

Have you ever seen one of those bad science fiction movies where people on-board a space-craft get thrust into an air lock, and then released into outer space? Then with panicked looks on their faces, they are sucked into outer space arms waving frantically, mouths gulping for a breath of air.

I have felt a bit like that lately. Except the outer space is a very bad bout of depression, sucking the life out of me slowly and steadily.

Such a stupid difficulty.

Work is getting me to go back and do jobs. This increases the pain, which increases the anxiety. I hate being at work, and my boss, and the whole bureaucratic cage of worker's compensation.

Have also been trying to reach desperately out for God. Begging him for some relief from the pain that comes on me, not only in my back but also my heart. Pain I cannot even identify the reason for.

Tonight, when reading through some of 1 Peter, this verse stuck out:


5:8-11 - Be self-controlled and vigilant always, for your enemy the devil is always about, prowling like a lion roaring for its prey. 
Resist him, standing firm in your faith and remember that the strain is the same for all your fellow-Christians in other parts of the world.
And after you have borne these sufferings a very little while, 
God himself (from whom we receive all grace 
and who has called you to share his eternal splendor through Christ) 
will make you whole and secure and strong. 
All power is his for ever and ever, amen!


So that's something to hold onto. 
And there's a verse that ends Psalm 40, where David says, "I need your help, I'm really struggling. For God's sake, don't delay."


So that is the current mantra of my heart:
"I need your help, God. I'm really struggling. For God's sake, don't delay."

All the Nutella I Can Eat

A friend of mine decided to ring tonight as I was glued to about the fiftieth episode of Scrubs.

I kinda have desperately been needing a friend to talk to, but at the same time, rejecting human contact, so I begrudgingly answered, and maybe hoped it wouldn't last long.

But it was really cool. After I admitted all the freak-outs contained in my synapses,  he calmly pointed out where my world-view has been pretty screwed, and told me in the nicest way possible how ungrateful I've been being.

So true. And slightly embarrassing to admit, but it's true.

Yeah, maybe I have had almost no money for a while. But neither have I had to miss out on anything. My friends take me out and flippin' pay for me to have tea with them, or coffee. How kind is that?

And yeah, my back has been so durn sore. But God gave me a Mum who patiently rubs it as many times a day as I need. And a pool to do exercises in. And a mini boom-box, so I can dogpaddle to a bit of Taio Cruz. And maybe all the Nutella I can eat.

So whilst I've been feeling so deserted and empty, maybe God has been moving all around me. You know, patiently demonstrating:

"It's okay, we'll get through this. One thing at a time. I'm not going anywhere."

My friend quoted Luke 11, where Jesus says:

^10-13"Don't bargain with God. Be direct. Ask for what you need. 
This is not a cat-and-mouse, hide-and-seek game we're in. 


If your little boy asks for a serving of fish, do you scare him with a live snake on his plate? If your little girl asks for an egg, do you trick her with a spider?


 As bad as you are, you wouldn't think of such a thing—you're at least decent to your own children. 
And don't you think the Father who conceived you in love will give the Holy Spirit when you ask him?"


So it was an encouraging phone call. 


I guess I do have to still go over this wave of stress, busyness and hard work. But I guess also, I have a dad who is lifting me up when the waves come, so I don't drown 
(though I may get a mouthful of salt).


Come to think of it, even though I haven't asked for an egg, I have been tricked with a spider recently....

The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs

Most mornings lately, I wake up, and flinch with the twinging of my back.

I headed to the specialist, who took compassion on me, and wrote out a new set of exercises to do.

Lots of good stuff is happening in the world. But the bad stuff is acting like a set of weights, so depression forms a big part of my world.

A nasty thing about depression is that it steals the joy of simple things, like eating gingerbread with your friends. Or lying on a warm path under a blue sky. The joy simply vanishes.

I have been thinking about this, and how I do not want to loose the joy and gratefulness of life. Otherwise, it becomes a matter of waking up and realising, "Uhhh....it's another stinking day."

An anecdote of this comes from The Last Battle, and I found a article by a guy called Chris Erdman, talking about the anecdote:
==========================

 The trouble of the dwarfs

Do you, who know Lewis’ story, remember the tragic case of the Dwarfs?  Dear God may they not be us!  The Dwarfs were Narnians once loyal to Aslan, but in the midst of the battle they became so disillusioned with everything that they turned in upon themselves, became embittered and blind, caring much for themselves and little for others.  In the end, they too, by the grace of Aslan, wind up inside the Stable and the world that’s bigger and better and more beautiful than anything they could have imagined.  You’d think they’d see it.  But they don’t; they’re too accustomed to trouble, too in love with the battle, and too attached to the cramped little world they think they must hold on to.  If we’re not careful and prayerful, it’s us Presbyterians Lewis could have been writing about. 

“Aslan,” said Lucy through her tears, “could you—will you—do something for these poor Dwarfs?”

            “Dearest,” said Aslan, “I will show you both what I can, and what I cannot do.”  He came close to the Dwarfs and gave a low growl: low, but it set all the air shaking.  But the Dwarfs said to one another, “Hear that?  That’s the gang at the other end of the Stable. Trying to frighten us.  They do it with a machine of some kind.  Don’t take any notice.  They won’t take us in again!”

            Aslan raised his head and shook his mane.  Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarf’s knees: pies and tongues and pigeons and trifles and ices, and each Dwarf had a goblet of good wine in his right hand.  But it wasn’t much use.  They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn’t taste it properly.  They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a Stable.  One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip and a third said he’d found a raw cabbage leaf.  And they raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said “Ugh!  Fancy drinking dirty water out of a trough that a donkey’s been at!  Never thought we’d come to this.”

            But very soon every Dwarf began suspecting that every other Dwarf had found something nicer than he had, and they started grabbing and snatching, and went on to quarrelling, till in a few minutes there was a free fight and all the good food was smeared on their faces and clothes or trodden under foot.

            But when at last they sat down to nurse their black eyes and their bleeding noses, they all said: “Well, at any rate there’s no Humbug here.   We haven’t let anyone take us in.  The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs.”

            “You see,” said Aslan.  “They will not let us help them.  They have chosen cunning instead of belief.  Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot be taken out.  But come, children.  I have other work to do” (181-3).

If we’re not careful, Dwarfs are exactly what we could be, and if that’s what we become then we’ll get nothing more than what they got—when all around us is gold and goodness, bounty and beauty.

            The best years of the church are not behind us; they are before us.  If we don’t believe that, we’re Dwarfs, not disciples of Jesus Christ.  If we worry about the future we deny Christ’s Lordship, we dismiss his Word, we betray his command, and we fail to respond to the call of our hearts to enter fully the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Probably irrelevant to my situation, but a good excuse to put that picture of  a Lego Dwarf up.

What do I do with the pieces of a broken heart?

My friend Dave has a pretty amazing blog, and today he wrote a really good piece in it:

http://muhnlaven.blogspot.com/2010/12/what-do-i-do-with-pieces-of-broken.html

Check it out if you get a minute!

Quotes from the Phantom Tollboth

A curiously comical read.

...........................

Whether or not you find your own way, you're bound to find some way. If you happen to find my way, please return it, as it was lost years ago. I imagine by now it's quite rusty.

There are no wrong roads to anywhere.

The way you see things depends a great deal on where you look at them from.

If you want sense, you'll have to make it yourself.

Many of the things which can never be, often are.

You know that it's there, but you just don't know where - but just because you can never reach it doesn't mean that it's not worth looking for.

Whatever we learn has a purpose and whatever we do affects everything and everyone else.

What you can do is often simply a matter of what you will do.

So many things are possible just as long as you don't know they're impossible.

 

Indiana Haase and the Huntsmen of Doom

Had a rather horrifying moment driving home not long ago.

I'm driving along the highway...after having dinner with some of my awesome older friends, Anne and Bill.

Suddenly, the Sinister and Threatening Silhouette of an Ultra-Large Huntsmen creeps across my vision... and to my absolute Horror, I realize it's jutting towards me...That Spider is INSIDE my car!!!

Hurriedly, and only 27% safely, I jerk the car onto the side of the road, and quickly extricate myself, all the while making high pitched squeaks of Horror.
It's funny how absolutely one's psyche demands personal removal from Spider Surrounds...as if the little buggers are just going to bare their fangs, and leap for the Jugular, and begin to: "NOM NOM NOM!"

Removing my shoe, and darting my eyes around like a Trained Killer, I jog the dashboard, and get the Invader into position. With an almighty THUMP, I whip my shoe onto the top of it's bare, hairy head. But this is no ordinary spider. This is obviously some kind of well-trained Kamikazee Spider.

Because when I hit the durn thing, it Dropped to the floor of my car...and no matter how gingerly I searched, I couldn't locate it.
I wanted to give it another THUMP, because upon examination of my shoe, the complete lack of Spider Guts convinced me that it was alive, and only slightly wounded, inside my car....just waiting to take revenge.

Realizing with an unreasonable shiver that I had pulled over in front of the Juvenile Justice Centre, I knew I had to return to my Spider-infested car and get home somehow.
This was not easily achieved, as I was afraid to touch the floor....petrified of the Creeping Legs that were bound to return when I was least prepared....

Laugh Not, Cruel Arachnid! I Will Have my Revenge, and you Will Die!

And as Colin Buchanan so aptly puts it:

Don't help a spider out of his troubles
Cause he won't listen to you
You'll soon find yourself on the wrong side
 of A Stomping Foot or Insecticide....

A Dart to the Heart

Very good weekend. One of those hill-top moments, when the clouds clear, and you can see the view again. Loved it.

We had our Cornerstone Gathering on, which means endless catchups, challenges and joy.

At the end of it all, my bestie Hanwen and I sat on the muddy pavement, watching the Giant Rainbow that arched across the sky right in front of us.

We talked about God and how he works, and struggles, and everything a good D+M consists of.

After a while, Hanwen's man-friend, Gil, came and sat down beside us.

In the course of discussion, while pestering them with some question or other, trying to grasp the meaning of what they were saying, Gil suddenly spoke up,

"This may sound kinda weird but, maybe it's not something you can grasp. Maybe you have to realize that God actually loves you."

I did not, of course, get an eyeful of tears at this moment or anything *cough*.

I guess Gil had a Holy Spirit brainwave, cause his words sent a Dart to my Heart.

When I look at my life for the past while, I see the opposite of love: AKA Fear is the dominating factor. And being so fearful of torment. And being afraid of being tormented actually is Torment...

And the scary thing about torment is that it blinds you to the LOVE that fills your life. As I began to raise my eyes beyond my own fearful heart, I saw that all through the weekend, and the past weeks, gifts from God have come in so many different shapes, blessing me endlessly.
My sister made me milkshakes and myriad cuddles, friends sat by me when I was insecure. They have built me up with their words, and served me with their possessions. I am so truly amazingly blessed...!

So why is it so damn hard to translate all this blessing and love to God, He who loves me.

It's no wonder the future can look so grim, because the long lanes of something devoid of the sunshine of God's Love is as bleak and creepy as:
 

instead of this.


I don't want my life to be ruled by this stinking Fear!
-------------------------------------------------------------
No fear exists where his love is. Rather, perfect love gets rid of fear, because fear involves punishment. The person who lives in fear doesn't have perfect love.
I John 4:18
-------------------------------------------------------------------------


I'd like to learn something of this Perfect Love....

Apology

Sorry if I sound like a cow in my previous post.
It was not my Mootivation.

The Horrible Fan Club?

My friend Pete has a Bible study of sorts at his house every Thursday night.


Ten o'clock is his bed time, however. When the clock strikes, we see him inserting his ear-plugs into his ear canals, and firmly shutting his bedroom door.


It's good of him to host the study, however, and he hasn't branded me as a heretic yet, and thrown me out.


Most of the kids in the group (of which I am second eldest), have been bought up in the church. And when we answer questions from our Study Guide, they dutifully recite the correct answers and move on to the next one.


You know these answers; they sound like this:


- By reading the Bible
- Telling others about God.
- Going to church


Well, Bible studies can really annoy me. So I possibly annoy my study group. When we split up into our smaller four or five girls, I spread my subversion, and prove my point.Just tossing in little mental confusions....so we have to think.


I just hate when Christians become Drones. Because it's so easy to create a Christian Highway that we all travel on, we make sense to each other, and no one else; and we hide who we really are, because no Christian wants to admit what they really do when no one is looking do they?


 No Christian wants to admit that they yelled at their spouse every day last week, that they deeply despise a co-worker, or that they have an addiction to Gossip Girl.


I think we have a reputation of hypocrisy for a reason. 


Urban Dictionary has a funny definition of God's Son:

Jesus:

A pretty cool guy whose reputation has been run down by his horrible fan-club.  I just  want us to be different. To show God's love, because we actually really know God's love.  His real love; not his I-secretly-have-an-agenda-in-which-I-may-kill-you-love.... I want to do more than pay Lip-Service to this love.  I leave you with a parable, slightly re-told by Adrian Plass....any thoughts? The Prodigal Son At last he cometh to his senses and saith, ‘All my father’s hired workers have more than they can eat, and here I am about to starve!  I will arise and go to my father and say, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee.  I am no longer worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thy hired servants.”’  So he arose and came to his father.  But when he was still a long way off his father seeth him and runneth to him and falleth on his neck and pulleth his hair and smacketh his backside and clumpeth him on the ear and saith, “Where the devil do you think you’ve been, Scumbag?  And the prodigal replieth, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee.  I am no longer worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thine hired servants.’  The father saith, “Too right I’ll make thee as one of my hired servants, Master Dirty-stop-out-inheritance-spending-stinker-pinker-prodigal!  I suppose thou believest that thou canst waltz back in here without so much as an by thine leave, and conneth me with thine dramatic little speech? Thinkest thou that this is “Little House on the Prairie”?  Or mayhap thou reckoneth that I was born yestere’en?  Oh, no.  Third assistant bog-cleaner, unpaid, for thee, mine odorous ex-relative.’  Then the prodigal saith dismally unto him, ‘Oh, right, right - fair enough.  So, er, just to get it straight, there existeth no question of lots of nice presents and instant forgiveness and an large celebratory meal involving the fatted calf, or anything of that nature?  ‘In thy dreams, son!’ replieth the father.  “The only gift thou art likely to see is the personalized lavatory-brush with which thou shalt shortly be presented.’  And the father taketh the prodigal by the ear which previously he clumpeth, and hauleth him back to the farm.  And lo, the fatted calf beholdeth them approach from an long way off, and, summing up the situation perfectly, throweth an big party.  And the fatted calf’s family and guests rejoiceth and doeth an bit of discow-dancing, and mooeth sarcastically over the fence at the prodigal as he passeth by in his tribulation.  And behold, as nightfall approacheth, the prodigal’s elder brother heareth distant sounds as of an bog-brush being applied, and strolleth out to the edge of the cess-pit after supper holding an large brandy, and he stretcheth luxuriously and picketh his teeth and lighteth an enormous cigar and looketh down and saith, ‘Evenin’, Rambo.  I see thou hast returned, then?  Likest thou thine rapid progress from affluent to effluent?’   And the prodigal looketh up and saith, ‘Verily, thou rebukest me justly with thine clever barb.  When I had great wealth I shared it not with thee, but now I freely offer thee an good share of  what is mine.’  And he flicketh at the elder brother with his brush, so that an weighty portion of something exceeding unpleasant ploppeth into his brother’s brandy glass, and his brother retireth, threatening to tell on him.  And the prodigal findeth his father and saith unto him, ‘Behold, all these years during which I was in an far country, mine smug, pie-faced, hypocritical, dipstick of an brother must have caused thee to gnash thine teeth on an daily basis, so how come he getteth all the perks like brandy, cigars and suchlike, while I remaineth up to mine elbows in other people’s poo?’  But his father replieth, ‘Thine brother is boring but biddable.  Get on with thine work, thou less than Baldrick, and think thyself lucky.’  The father departeth and the prodigal saith to himself, ‘Blow this for an game of centurions.  I wisheth I hadn’t come home now.  Behold I am just as hungry, twice as guilty and four times as smelly.  Verily, if, by an miracle, any time off ever presenteth itself, there existeth in my mind no doubt about how I shall seek to occupieth it.  Definitely - it’s an day-trip to the pigs for me…’

Blair vs. Hitchens

Yesterday like the dork I am, I brought a front row seat ticket to watch Tony Blair debate Christopher Hitchens Live Streaming from Toronto.

Tony Blair, ex prime minister of the UK, and born-again believer vs. Christopher Hitchens, Atheist Extra-ordinaire. They were debating the fact of whether religion is any good at all. Looked to be one interesting Smackdown.

And it was fascinating stuff. It was clear from the start that the crowd was behind Hitchens.
There was thousands of people who were watching the Live Stream and commenting in the comment box as the debate went on. And all the vocal ones on the chat were definitely supporting Hitchens, too. One viewer wrote in:

Blair is gonna get Hitch-Slapped!


Hitchens is currently fighting the last stages of oesophageal cancer, and he was bald and rather weak. But because it could possibly be his last debate, the crowd was unbelievably behind him.
And it was pretty amazing that amongst the atheists who were all typing in their comments, there seemed to be a pretty strong community. Messages kept popping up.

Hi, atheist from Muskoka!


Atheist from Norway signing in!


On and on, from Hong Kong, Atlanta, and Africa, they were signing in, enjoying the excitement.


The debate began, and from the start Hitchens shone. Blair looked like a flailing turtle beside him. He tried to make an important point time after time, but he didn't have Hitchens razor-wit and sparkling repartee.

Hitchens had an interesting sentence to say:


"Once you assume a creator and a plan it makes us cruel objects in a plan in which we are created sick and ordered to be well."

It's funny, because I've been wrestling with a lot of thoughts about God and life for around three years now, and the questions that Hitchens kept firing where cleverly phrased versions of my own. He referred to God as, "The Divine Dictatorship - a celestial North Korea." and said that, "Religion forces nice people to do unkind things, and intelligent people to do stupid things."

I'm afraid I found Hitchens so much more interesting than anything Blair had to say. Blair kept trying to make the point that, even though religion has spurred people to do violent, cruel and evil things, he believes so much more good has been done by people acting out of love of their God. He kept making this point a dozen times, trying to phrase it differently.
But he just sounded weak and floundering, to the very sharp Hitchens who had a complete arsenal of arguments that Blair did not try to defend. At one point, when Blair was laboriously spelling out a point, Hitchens began swinging in his legs in the anticipation of creaming him in the next rebuttal.

Blair was trying to say a good thing. He had a good and valid point. But he lacked the abilities and charisma of Hitchens. I got what he meant, but he was standing in a room almost full of atheists, and it's not easy to argue with them.

Hitchens concluded in the end that Humanism is the only chance for Salvation. Which is a clever argument, but an old one...because humans can't save themselves. They don't have the ability to do so, and Utopians who have attempted it in the past have all miserably failed.

At the end, people applauded Hitchens for several minutes, with (dare-I-say-it?) an almost religious fervour; and I have no doubt that he won the argument. I went out for tea last night, and announced that I thought I would become an atheist. My mum told me to eat my dinner.

It's funny. Even though Hitchens had some good points, and decent angry complaints against the Deity who is represented by one annoying fan-club, it was like some part of him does desire good and truth, without religiosity. And I hope he does get to meet God one day, and find that it's a fulfilment of something he has always longed for, and desired.
He talked for a moment about the universe, and said that he finds it a good deal more inspiring than any Burning Bush.
So I think maybe he can see God in the world, and in other people....and I think he likes it.

I Am Living Just To Breathe

"Believe" by The Bravery

The faces all around me they don't smile they just crack
Waiting for our ship to come but our ships not coming back
We do our time like pennies in a jar
What are we saving for? 

There's a smell of stale fear that's reeking from our skins.
The drinking never stops because the drinks absolve our sins
We sit and grow our roots into the floor
But what are we waiting for? 

Something's always coming you can hear it in the ground
It swells into the air
With the rising
Rising sound
And never comes but shakes the boards and rattles all the doors
What are we waiting for? 

I am hiding from some beast
But the beast was always here
Watching without eyes
Because the beast is just my fear
That I am just nothing
Now its just what I've become
What am I waiting for
Its already done

So give me something to believe
Cause I am living just to breathe
And I need something more
To keep on breathing for
So give me something to believe

The House of God, Forever

Scrubs Quote

Elliot: Janitor, do you ever wish you were different in almost every single way?


Janitor: No, I'm a winner...But, I will tell you something that my grandmother told me when I was a kid; even though at the time I thought she was my mother. 
She said, "Time spent wishing is time wasted." Now, she died shortly after that, and my sister - who actually was my mother - she never got over it. Neither did my brother-dad. 
But the point is this: If you want to be different, then be different!

God Does His Best Work in Weak People

I met a 20 year old missionary girl today.

Her name is Karis Piawong, and she is an actual missionary in Thailand.

I know we all are missios but she's so young, and it must be very difficult to be so far from a comfortable, materialistic life.

Anyways, Karis and her husband Noom, and her parents live in Thailand, and they are on furlough at the moment. They came to talk to my mum's Bible study this morning, which I begrudgingly went along to.

I love Missio Stuff, just don't like being around people heaps at the moment.

Anyways, it was so fascinating to hear this girl talk. She was so down to earth, and has such a simple faith, I just loved it.
She did six months of training with YWAM when she was eighteen, and that was where she met her husband.

Noom had a rough background. A former sex addict and drug dealer. Karis had a dream about him one night, and woke up with feelings for him.

"I was worried, " she admitted at the meeting today, "because I didn't want any relationship thing to distract me from what God had planned. So I prayed over the feelings. Lord, take these feelings away. In Jesus Name!

Then I believe the devil made an attack on me. I couldn't breathe, and I started to panic. Noom came over and began praying for me. While he laid hands on my head a thought came into his mind. "I want you to love and take care of this woman your whole life."

Noom fled to a corner and began praying, "Jesus, take this thought away, I don't want to be distracted from you. In Jesus Name!"

When he came back to pray for me, the thought came again."

Anyways, Karis and Noom got married the next year. They went from being friends to being engaged. And there was so many beautiful confirmations that 'they' were exactly what God had in mind.

Their story was amazing, they were both just so intent on just walking with Jesus. Straight away in their marriage, God asked them to take two young guys into their house. There's now five extra guys living with them, and one girl - in their first year of marriage! They have given even that to God.

I went to talk to Karis after the meeting. She was so little, I felt like the Hulk.

Anyway, she just spoke about God and her simple faith in him was just shining.

It just helped remind me of why I do desire so deeply to be like that in my walk with God. Not get hung up on anything. Not money, not education, nothing. To just be listening to God's voice, and to take the leap when I think I hear him.

And I know I'm weak, and yeah, really weak.
The biggest weakling in God's kingdom I believe.
But apparently God can do some of his best work in weak people.

God Run Out of Power, Eh?

Things have been a bit controversial in the Christian World of Dubbo lately.

(Christian world being: the collective Christians who attend different churches, and have amazingly different ideas on things...)

People hold such strong views on this whole 'Healing' issue, that everyone I question gives me a different answer.
Or
They will snap out a quick sentence, the sort that people generally keep tucked away for such occasions.

I will retort back with a brilliant return (of course), playing the devil's advocate.
Then, almost without fail, they rub their chins, and furrow their brows.

"I don't know....It's such a difficult subject..."

or, some, who mostly firmly believe in all types of healings will announce,

"You just gotta have faith, you GOTTA BE-LIEVE!...now...you want me to pray for you?"

I prefer the first group. I occasionally desire to harm the second....

I interrogated my pastor who was healed the other night.

"So...how's it going...?"

"Oh, my neck's sore again..."

"God, run out of power, eh?"

Flippant and rude answer. Just have a million questions in my head, which will be figured out in time, but aren't at the moment, and I feel the desire to understand this issue, to nail it down and deprive it of mystery in my Brain.

If you asked me straight up, did Jesus heal my pastor's neck at the meeting, I would say, flat out,
"No way, Jose."

Jesus didn't seem to work like that, you know? You don't see blind men groping their way back to the Master, "Ummm...sir...there's a slight problem..."

Or lepers claiming a Malfunctioned Healing, "Sir, did I leave my nose with you?"

Or Martha bawling to Jesus, "Lord, only a day after you left, Lazarus keeled over...and I swear it wasn't my cooking, this time..."

That just didn't happen. People were healed. From EVERYTHING. From being flippin' dead! You don't see Jesus keep trying to heal someone, and slumping over in frustration because the power ain't clicking, and the Spirit's flow is being inhibited or something.

I mean, there were so many people who left the other night, still blind, still unable to move...still dying. And that just wasn't what Jesus was like.

Like, I know there's a strong connection between faith and healing, but I DO NOT believe that you achieve healing by banishing any lingering and reasonable doubt. As if God expects you to twist your brain around a concept you firmly believe to be the Optimum Option for your Situation, and only brainwashing yourself into believing it will your wish come true.

I do NOT think God works like that.

I have a family story bound up in that statement, which I'll share sometime...This is a rant, and perhaps soon, I will give a smooth, just fair look at the other side...try and achieve a healthy medium.

Now, having said that...

My back has been feeling a little better since the healing meeting....

Surrendering to God

http://nothing-new-under-the-sun.blogspot.com/2010/11/surrendering-to-god.html

Interesting Blog Post by a guy named Byron Smith. Check it out if you get a minute.

Mellor's Miracles and Muddles

I was just at the healing meeting held by a guy called John Mellor.

Tall guy, charismatic. Wearing a soft pink shirt....

So he talks about how healing happens. He prays over some people. He puts hands over the affected area, and yells various things including, "Shuum! Shuum!" And, "Free, now Jesus, NOW! NOW!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ED84QFuhN0 is a link to some of the stuff he's done.

It was weird. He prayed for person after person. He prayed for a guy in a wheelchair, and the dude's foot starts jumping around. The guy in the chair stares at his foot, rather puzzled.

"That hasn't happened before..."

Like, so many people said they could feel the difference. Most praised God. About twenty prayed for Jesus to become Lord of their lives. One guy threw his arms up in the air screaming, "Ashutuiposhugnu! Nyeghytuihpoto!" John dealt with that by slaying him in the Spirit. The guy went down. John shook his head. "You scared the livers out of me, mate."

There was a LOT of slaying in the Spirit. Sometimes he'd try and do it, and nothing would happen....the person would just blankly stare. Other times, he'd barely look in their direction and they started yelling and writhing on the floor. It was almost like he did it for fun, pointing his finger at them, and watching them drop.
 At one time, there were so many splayed across the floor, it looked like a War Zone.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting there, in a lot of pain. As the night goes on, the pain gets worse and worse....I haven't sat up for so long in two months. I grumbled to myself, "The Longer I sit here waiting to be healed, the more I need it!"

John turns to the crowd and announces that he will be praying for the whole of the crowd, and stretching out his hand towards the large auditorium, he begins to do so.

I place my hands on my back, and pray for healing. I hope for healing. I'm afraid of healing.

Nothing happens. Perhaps I relax a little. But no relief from the tension and pain.

He prayed for a lot of people. And everyone there was stretching out their own hands to whomever had been prayed for, all asking God for healing.

The friends who I had come with, announce they wish to leave. My car is parked over in the dark, so I leave, too, and get a ride to my car. This happens to coincide with the time that John declares everyone is welcome to come to the front to be prayed for.

It was sort of funny. I was sitting next to a chiropractor in the car, who asked me about my back difficulties, and offered to see me if I so wished. So I don't know if that was a bit of God-Intervention.

So the facts of the night.
- I chickened out of getting prayed for.
- I'm a confused mess.
- I think I'm a Pharisee, that I saw those people claim to be feeling better, and my heart is unchanged.
- My own pastor spoke out the front about how his neck was free of it's chronic pain.
- So all this good stuff happened, and I am unmoved.
- I don't feel like praising God.
- I feel like turning on Scrubs and ignoring everything that just happened, because I'm so damn frustrated by it.

I'm so frustrated that the people who really were demonstrably ill, mentally damaged, and in wheelchairs, and such didn't seem to receive healing anywhere near as much as those who had diseases no one could see or judge easily.

But I don't wanna have a hard heart in this! I don't know why God would only reach out sometimes, I don't have the fuzziest. So I fled. (Also, the pain is fairly severe....)

John kept assuring people that if they weren't healed immediately, it was highly likely that they would be healed in the next hour, day or week. In fact, "You might wake up tomorrow morning, pain free! Praise God, folks, we're seeing miracles here!"  And Kaity limps out the auditorium. I guess group prayer is not very effective. I guess healing only happens under the right circumstances, with the right person, when God is in the right mood.

So maybe I will wake up tomorrow with my pain gone.

Who knows?
 I hope so. I'm sore.

Filched Quote

“I wish I could go back and talk to myself when I was twenty. I’d say to myself “listen, don’t worry about the things you’ve been worrying about. Everything is going to work out great.” And I’d likely clarify with myself that “In the future I get everything I need?” And I’d say back to myself “No, you just realize you didn’t need it. And that’s even better.”

Don Miller.

My World is Shrinking

It's been a pretty good day.

Today I have been swimming trying to get my back back.

I went to a Bible study thing tonight that has about twenty young people go. I like to make lots of jokes there...pretend I'm the funny guy.

And my friend Jess came round today to cheer me up. Even though she struggles from depression, she came and plopped down at my desk chair and announced she was staying for two hours.

It was good of her; it's what I need at the moment. My world is shrinking by the day...and I'm enjoying human contact less and less as time goes on. Even family. Gah!~I make my sisters feel unwelcome when they come into my room...I just wanna be on my own- Gah~! Warning Warning!

This back better get better soon...

There's a healing meeting on tomorrow night in Dubbo; a guy called John Mellor
is coming to do a few healing meetings.

Don't know what I should do...

Anti-Depressant Baby

Lately, whenever I feel miserable I go over to my friend’s house. She is a foster carer, and lately has been looking after a little four-month old baby boy. 

My friend is very easy-going, so I hobble over there, and she puts this little bundle in my lap. I tell him how delightful he is in a dozen different pitches and tones, then cuddle, and feed him. He is an amazing little fellow, his giggle was like an injection of Happiness. I told him all my jokes, and I think he likes them. His smile is sooo cute. Excellent depression deterrent. Would recommend it to anyone. A rare phenomenon indeed, such a tiny human who can remove gloom. 

Today, I got a surprise call from my best friend Hanwen. She happened to casually mention that she was in town. I took this news calmly….flung my phone across the room, and limped out to see her.

We had awesome lunch together. She takes my odd method of getting things off my brain very well. I fling question after question at her, unloading all the holsters at once, and she responds by playing ‘Aim the French-Fry', listening, and offering some thoughts. It was just good. She’s just good. It was sad to see her leave on the bus.

I got home, and had Mum greet me and tell me that my little Bub was gone. His real family was no longer acting in a good safe way, and he needed to be moved on to a different family for his own safety. Out of town. Away.

I just feel so rotten about it. He was just so special and I just loved the little guy, you know? And now I never get to be part of his life again. Just feels like a kick in the guts. I went to my room and cried.

My family says, “Trust God, Kat. Trust God that He has this under control and will provide Bub with a good loving Christian family.”

I have to leave it in God’s hands, there’s nil all I can do.

Just gonna miss him is all. He gave me something to love outside myself. 

Did They Get You to Trade Your Heroes for Ghosts?

I'm stuck, lying on my bed, hour after hour. Drowning my inability to do anything helpful in a few hundred games of Solitaire and watching every episode of Scrubs ever made Twice.
Pretty much having no choice but to just lie here. Counting the bugs in my Lightbulb. Trying to pray. Trying to read good things.

I go to a get-together/Bible discussion-y thing every Wednesday.

It's lead by a wise dude named Pete, the kind who would have an Owl as his Animal Doppelganger.

We eat tea together (there are about six or seven of us), and then sit down and drink tea and chat about things. We've been reading through a chapter of the Bible and talking about that.

I don't find it easy at this study...kinda often feel out of it, and that the contributions I come up with are slightly ridiculous...or seem to be. It's impossible to be objective with oneself! But some pretty deep stuff has come out of it.

At the end of the night, we all say things we want to do/think about/etc. in the upcoming week. I remember Pete mentioning how a song was playing in his brainwaves, and how he was finding it intriguing. He said his goal for the week was to think about the words of this song.

I was listening to the same tune today, and apart from it's marvellous guitar rift (Duh Duhnna Dun Dah), it does have some pretty cool words:

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange
a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
running over the same old ground. What have we found?
The same old fears,
wish you were here.

-------------------------------------------

This song is called Wish You Were Here. 

These are the dudes who sung it, they're called Pink Floyd:
Notice, none of them are Pink....more of a greyish black and white....







So  I've been thinking about life and theology and how the world works, and how God works, and how much I wish you were here, Jesus, so we could talk about everything!
I don't want to be on social tranquillizers all my life. I want to be able to walk with God through pain, joy, grief, delight....to love others with all the love of God....to not think of myself, but others only.

Just the scattered thoughts of someone who can do nothing but be almost entirely utterly self-focused at the moment. Ohhh boy.