09/28/10

Sometimes I think we’re all prisoners of our pasts.  At least to a large extent.

Talking yesterday to Tracy, I got a visual of something ugly that still clung to me that I had thought was gone. 

Driving along life’s highway I’m suddenly jerked to a standstill by a tether around my neck.  This is not the first time.

More often than not it is disabling as it really would be in that scenario. 

And so there I lay with a broken neck, unable to move, paralyzed once again and in pain – that is in pain where there is still feeling.

I wonder what God had in mind with that stuff?  All things work together for G O O D He says. 

I know the rest of the verse, the point of it being purposeful is what I’m talking about. 

I find myself wondering how that too will be used for His glory....  hmmmmm  nasty memories of ugly things seem like garbage to me.  Who wants to dredge up that stink?   I wonder.

But then my bff says to me that all of the scars and pain and wounds are beautiful to God.  Sooooo beautiful she whispers with such compassion and awe.

Not too long ago I would have laughed at that statement. 

But more and more I’m seeing how our sovereign heavenly Father – who is full of Love, no no He IS Love – ordains these things in our lives for His purpose.

I’m dismissing the objections about sovereignty and what God ordains for the moment.  Whatever.  God is God is God is God.  Always.

So here I lay. 

In this stinking garbage heap of old wounds reopened.  I’m not only in pain, I’m exposed, out here on the road.

My great fortune being that I have a bff that comes to my aid, though she is inadequate for the task of healing me, she is such comfort.

Some times it’s the other way around for us.  At least that’s what she says.

She is Jonathan to my David.  I think that I’m David only because I’m the writer.

But her life is full and I cannot fully lean on her.

And then it starts raining.

Yup

Raining napalm I think, because it’s killer.

Is there a hole I can go hide in?

Nope

Ipso facto gf.

Well my self wonders to me what we are going to do now. 

A fine predicament we’ve gotten our self into this time.  Now I cannot even move.

Can’t even go down the self pity road even though that’s been often traveled and I well know the way.

It just that it leads to nowhere and it’s very lonesome traveling. 

Kind of interesting that I’m not in a panic or even really upset this time around.

This too will pass – I know. 

Maybe I can settle in and do some gleaning while I’m here?

That would be nice.  Never like to waste anything.

Circumstances of the now of my life rear up in my face trying to pull me into a fog.

Alone.

My son and his wife and my brand new grand daughter left for California on Friday.  My daughter just got married in June.  My daddy died last Palm Sunday.

Here I am with my mom.  I’m to be her keeper.  It’s quite a task.  Lots of baggage on those tethers.  Not sure how that will turn out. 

Did someone say that we need to get rid of the fools in our lives?

Oh yes that was a different day, different topic. 

Not really feasible, I guess. 

God?  Do you think I could put off that pruning for a little bit?

And maybe have a little direct kindness sent my way?

Not that I’m complaining mind you.  Cause if this brings me closer to purpose I’ll take it.

It’s just that it’s awfully lonely around here.  The bff having her own family to take care of and all.

A Samaritan would be nice.

Yes

How is it that I’m not ‘feelin’ the beauty in this stench?  How is it that He who Reigns can find anything worthwhile in this ugly pile of waste?

And Tracy says to me how lovely it is to her, seeing the beaten bruised wounded people of God who are yielded to His will and being used.

Those who have truly given their lives moment by moment to Him – supple in His hands for the molding – to be, go, say, do, whatever is required of them.

I must admit that there is freedom here.

Not the freedom of one who isn’t invested, but the freedom of knowing that this is exactly what He desires.

That every hurt, every scar, every painful memory is so precious to Him – just as the wounds of Christ. 

Fully submitted and willing.

The call of Love is not a promise of simple romance. 

It is a call to strength – meekness – devotion to the only purpose worthy of His creation.

A call to give all to Him who gave all.

A call to allow even the ugliness and pain to be given to Him.

How wonderful that God’s economy wastes nothing.

I guess I can open my eyes now and get up.

Marching on is drudgery sometimes, but I’m an all-or-nothin kinda girl and I can’t stop now.

Besides I know where I’m going anyway, and it’s a place that I’ll be able to rest.

I just have a few things to get done on the way.

Yes Lord?  You are calling me?

Refocus

Enough introspection and reflection....

What can I do for You?

Oh yes. 

Love

I can do that.

Honeymoon? 

Any time You like Lord. 

I’ll be ready.