"I am by nature a dealer in words, and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity."

-- Rudyard Kipling

Trust and Obey

"Supposing God tells you to do something which is an enormous test to your common sense, what are you going to do? Hang back? If you get into the habit of doing a thing in the physical domain, you will do it every time until you break the habit determinedly; and the same is true spiritually. Again and again you will get up to what Jesus Christ wants, and every time you will turn back when it comes to the point, until you abandon resolutely. "Yes, but – supposing I do obey God in this matter, what about...?" "Yes, I will obey God if He will let me use my common sense, but don’t ask me to take a step in the dark." Jesus Christ demands of the man who trusts Him the same reckless sporting spirit that the natural man exhibits. If a man is going to do anything worth while, there are times when he has to risk everything on his leap, and in the spiritual domain Jesus Christ demands that you risk everything you hold by common sense and leap into what He says, and immediately you do, you find that what He says fits on as solidly as common sense. At the bar of common sense Jesus Christ’s statements may seem mad; but bring them to the bar of faith, and you begin to find with awestruck spirit that they are the words of God. Trust entirely in God, and when He brings you to the venture, see that you take it. We act like pagans in a crisis, only one out of a crowd is daring enough to bank his faith in the character of God." -- Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest


"O Lord, in Thee have I trusted; let me not be ashamed." -- Psalm 25:2

I See A Darkness

Not having a good night. This happens every time I talk to someone from church, or run into them at the theatre, or even exchange an email with them. This is why I have to cut contact with everyone: it just hurts too damn much. Draws me back in, emotionally, stirs everything up, and gets me all conflicted and tormented again. Also, I don't want people trying to talk me into coming back again. Because I can't. I just can't.

God, this sucks.

The Danger of Common Sense

"The danger with us is that we want to water down the things that Jesus says and make them mean something in accordance with common sense; if it were only common sense, it was not worth while for Him to say it. The things Jesus says about prayer are supernatural revelations."

-- Oswald Chambers

For Sale

Well, it's done: my house is officially listed.

http://caar.paragonrels.com/publink/default.aspx?GUID=6f8ee2df-33cb-495b-8983-4367497ad284&Report=Yes

They did a great job with the virtual tour:

http://tours.scopephotosite.com/public/vtour/display/348607?idx=1

It's a pretty melancholy thing for me to sell this place. I'm excited about going back to school, and the calling that's on my life, but I love it here. And I regret that I didn't get to do much of what I had in mind when I bought it; that is, entertain and spend time with friends.

Anyway, anybody in the market for a great vacation home? I've got deer and bear and birds if you like to hunt or just watch wildlife, a trout stream at the bottom of the mountain, and wild raspberries and blackberries all over, and even a few wild strawberries. And check out this view:

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

For Memorial Day

Goodbye, Amy

I recently learned that another of my old friends has died.

Amy lived across the street when I was a kid, the sister of a guy my brother and I hung out with. She was pretty, and sweet, and kind, and vibrant. She made me dance with her in her living room. Disco dancing. To the BeeGees. Lol. First girl I ever danced with, though.

Amy: (dancing alone to the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack) "Come dance with me, Michael!" She holds out her hands.

Me: "I'm eating." I hold it up as evidence.

Amy: "Put the doughnut down and come dance with me."

Thanks, Amy, for being my friend. You brightened everyone's life who knew you. Rest in peace, and may Eternal Light shine upon you.

"I have been in the shadow of death many times, but I found that the name of Jesus is deeper. I've been on the mountaintop of health, but I know the name of Jesus is higher." -- Stormie Omartian

"He is glorified when we offer words of adoration from a pained and bruised heart. Most of the verses written about praise in God's word were penned by men and women who faced crushing heartaches, injustice, treachery, slander, and scores of other intolerable situations." -- Joni Eareckson Tada

"Behold, I make all things new."

-- Jesus

Hildegard Von Bingen - O Vis Aeternitatis

This pierces my soul. I keep listening to it over and over.

Moving Forward

The real estate agent is coming tomorrow to finalize details for listing my property for sale. Pray that the Lord will bring me a buyer and that all will go as smoothly as it did when I bought this place, when it seemed like he just made everything come together effortlessly. Until it came to actually getting the people out of the house, lol. I'd like to get to Lynchburg this summer, in order to start school this fall semester.

I've decided to enroll at Liberty as an undergrad to study Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. That way, I'm actually learning something useful while I get my foot back in the door of academia and re-establish myself: when I was considering doing a degree in Bible from them, it felt like kind of a waste of time and money, because Liberty's theology is...er...limited, shall we say? It's a great school in a lot of ways, but that's not one of them. I don't know if I'll bother with finishing a degree program there, as the main goal is to move on to Wheaton where I'll pursue studies in theology and patristics (that is, the writings of the church fathers, in case you're unfamiliar). I have a passion for what some might call "eclectic" Christianity, but what I prefer to think of as "essential" Christianity. That is, finding what is good, and true, and beautiful from all Christian traditions, not just selling myself body and soul to one narrow path. That doesn't necessarily mean that I have to adopt every practice that everyone else has, but that I can appreciate the differences while loving my own.

For instance, I was part of a discussion of the sacrament of confirmation recently. In it, questions were asked about the nature of the gift of the Holy Spirit which is conferred at confirmation, the distinction between how the Holy Spirit is received at salvation or baptism, when we are regenerated by him, and at confirmation, when we are "filled" by him, which the priest teaching couldn't answer. The kind of thing I'm interested in and passionate about is recognizing that what Anglicans and Roman Catholics and such call "confirmation" is what Pentecostals and Charismatics call "the baptism of the Spirit"; it's just that the δύναμις or power has been detached from the sacrament or ceremony by centuries of theology, tradition, and, let's face it, bad religion. For instance, the practice of the early church was to confirm immediately after baptism, and they associated the sacrament with the baptism in the Spirit spoken of by Jesus and which occurred on Pentecost in Acts 2. St. Augustine says that the oil of chrism used to anoint the confirmand is the sacrament of the Holy Spirit, presumably in the same or a similar way in which the bread and wine is the body and blood of the sacrifice. So what should be happening, but usually isn't in most churches, is that the believer should be being filled with the supernatural σῴζω power of the Holy Spirit to live the Christian life, whereas what happens at baptism is the new birth, or regeneration, which prepares the believer to receive this power. Another way to think of it is that baptism is the initiation into the kingdom, but confirmation is a lay ordination into the priesthood of all believers; this is confirmed by Tertullian, Hyppolytus, Basil the Great, and St. Leo. The point is that if you look at a biblical question from the breadth of other traditions' viewpoints and the depth of the thoughts of the church fathers, you get a much clearer picture than by limiting yourself to the opinions of your own church or denomination.

Anyway, I have a calling to teach, and I'm off to equip myself for it. I don't know in what capacity I'll be exercising it: perhaps in a Christian university somewhere; but I also think that my gift and vocation for writing is going to come into it. I was once told by someone that my ability to take complex ideas and make them understandable reminded her of C.S. Lewis. One of the most complementary things anyone's ever said to me. But, more importantly, if that's true, then I need to be using it to serve God.

A side benefit of spending a few semesters in Lynchburg is that I'll get to see more of my granddaughters.

This was already the plan, more or less, as I've mentioned here before. I just wish that I was leaving under different circumstances. It would be so much better to be saying a bittersweet farewell to good friends who love me, and knowing that I could come back and visit them, than sadly walking away under a cloud of heartbreak and ill will.

"Love...bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."

-- 1 Cor 13

"To worship is to quicken the conscience by the holiness of God, to purge the imagination by the beauty of God, to open the heart to the love of God, and to devote the will to the purpose of God."

-- William Temple

"If you really love, you're the only totally free person because you can always do what you want. You can always love people. They may snub you, they may persecute you, they may even try to kill you. But they cannot stop you loving them. The person whose motivation is love is the only totally free person in the world."

-- Derek Prince

"Greatness...is very simple: This is what I believe, and I'm willing to die for it. Period."

-- Will Smith

Early Musical Experiences

I was talking to my mother the other day about my favorite violin piece, the Meditation from the opera Thais;

...and about how, the first time I heard it, it stopped the whole world for me, and I was left shocked and speechless by its astonishing beauty. And when she listened to it she said that it reminded her of the Serenade from the movie The Student Prince with Mario Lanza;

...and that I had heard it over and over in my infancy and childhood, because she had the record and used to listen to it all the time. And that got me thinking about how our early musical experiences shape us and help form who we later become, our tastes, and according to some scientists, even our intelligences and aptitudes.

Here's another number from The Student Prince that I would have heard over and over again. In fact, I remember this one from when I became old enough to get into my parents' record collection. And it, also, had an...um...effect on who I later became. :)

And here's one more from that score, which I'll leave without comment.

What I've Been Trying to Say

Things have gotten really complicated. My fears and wounds, as well as my pride and stubbornness, have gotten mixed up in it and clouded my message, and I've been confused myself. But here's what I've been trying to say to you from day one:

I love you with everything that is in me: body, soul, spirit, heart, mind, and strength. And nothing--nothing will ever shake my love for you. My love for you is like the rock of Gibraltar: immovable, except by an act of God. The only thing that I'm surer of than my love for you is my faith in Jesus. And it's because of my faith in Jesus that I'm so certain of my love for you.

I think you are the most extraordinary, lovely, wonderful, amazing person I have ever, or will ever meet, and to me you are the most beautiful woman who has ever lived. To me, you are perfect.

I love you whether you love me or not, and always will. And I'm not sorry.

I love you no matter what you do or say to me. You can't change it, although you can hurt me. But I love you anyway.

I love you even if you don't want me to love you. Sorry, that's not your choice.

I love you no matter what about you I don't know. Do you understand? I say that without reservations. No. Matter. What.

If you don't want to be around my love, then I'll remove it from your sight. But I won't stop loving you, I'll just stand over here and love you where you can't see me.

I will do you good at every opportunity. Refuse it if you will: I'm going to keep trying anyway. And do some things you don't even know about.

No matter what has happened between us, I'm ready to be your friend again today. Right now, right this minute.

And if you ever decided that what you wanted was to be loved like this, or at least to give it a chance, I'm ready to marry you right now. Tomorrow. Or, to take it really slow, giving you as long as you need, taking one gradual and cautious step at a time.

Yes, I remember what you said. But sometimes people change their minds. A wise woman once told me that we should never close ourselves off completely to anything, because we may regret it when it's too late, and find that we were open to it after all.

I am sorry, though, that it's felt to you like I was putting pressure on you: I really am. I just needed an outlet for my feelings, because they were so intense, and this blog was that outlet. Keeping them inside felt like it was killing me. Many authors, of whom C.S. Lewis is the first who comes to mind, have spoken about how the reason being in love fades is that it is too intense to sustain for long without it killing us. And I have been in love with you like few have ever experienced: the kind of love that inspires great literature, poetry, art, and symphonies. And I've sustained it for years, in spite of every opposition known to man. Doesn't that say something about the truth of it? Has anyone else ever proven his love to you like that? Will anyone, do you think? I don't know why it's me. I don't know why God brought us together. But he did. And he did so knowing who I am and who you are; and me loving you was inevitable. Trying not to love you was like trying to resist the Sea. Or, more to the point, it was like trying to resist the Will of God. I don't know why he brought us together, but it wasn't just to make us both suffer for no purpose. We both love and serve him, and he means good things for us, and not harm or misery. He brought us into each other's lives for his purposes, which are ultimately good, not as a curse or a punishment. One possibility I've considered is that he knew that my issues and your issues were perfectly suited to provoke and antagonize one another, so as to bring them to the surface so he could deal with them.

And I mean you only good too: I'm not any of those horrible things that you've feared or imagined. I'm just a man who loves you. You know, when I pray for you, I pray that the absolute best for you will be brought to you, and that if it's not me, that he will grant me the grace to be able to release you from my heart. And I really, really mean it. And I have prayed this way for you from the beginning.

In other words, this has all just been about wanting--no, needing--you to know the truth about how I feel about you. That's all. I'm not asking you to be my wife. I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend. I'm not even asking you to be my friend again. All I'm asking you to do is to believe that I love you.

By the way, I have a closet full of presents that I've never been able to give you. Even if I never see you again, and if you're determined to go on with your heart set against me, I would like it if you could have them and maybe enjoy them in spite of where they came from. They're very pretty. Here's a sample:

"I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heardest my voice.
For thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me.
Then I said, 'I am cast out of thy sight'; yet I will look again toward thy holy temple.
The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head.
I went down to the bottoms of the mountains; the earth with her bars was about me for ever: yet hast thou brought up my life from the pit, O Lord my God.
When my soul fainted within me I remembered the Lord: and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple.
They that observe lying vanities forsake their own mercy.
But I will sacrifice unto thee with the voice of thanksgiving; I will pay that that I have vowed. Salvation is of the Lord."

-- Jonah 2: 2-9

Revelations

*** edited for clarity ***

I've hesitated about sharing this--I've been sort of slipping back into a place of hardness and defensiveness and away from that spirit of love and vulnerability into which I'd been led by the Spirit of the Lord. So, realizing that, I think I've got to do it, in obedience. And to give Him the glory for what he's done. Also, I've come this far with baring my soul, so why not keep going, right?

I was talking to a friend about how my deepest, darkest fear in the universe is that God is this detached, Calvinistic, unsympathetic, absentee father figure who won't help us out of our difficulties because it's our own fault we've gotten ourselves into them. The "God is a mean kid with an ant farm" view; like a deistic version of a Skinner behaviorist. Consciously, I've never believed this. Scripture clearly teaches otherwise, and I have multiple personal experiences which demonstrate that God is loving, merciful, and directly, personally concerned with my life and welfare. But I've never been able to completely shake that fear--it's always lurked down deep in my soul, and left me divided and unable to fully, completely trust him. Anyway, my friend said, "You know, our views of God are often shaped by our views of our parents." And the truth hit me like the weight of the universe: my father sat there all those years and didn't help me while I was being abused and mistreated and subjected to cruelty. I knew he loved me. Things had been different when I was little, and still were when we were alone, away from my stepmother. But he let it go on, for the most part, and so my view of love was being left to my own devices, and somewhere down deep I must have come to believe that I deserved it.

So, I prayed about it. I confessed and repented of my lack of faith and trust. And he led me to do two things: One, to confess complete trust in him and belief in the words he'd spoken to me. Even if I looked foolish. Even if I might be wrong about what I'd heard. I had to trust that, if that was the case, he would show me in due course, but in the meantime, I was to trust. Unconditionally. So I did. I confessed it all audibly and threw myself completely on him. Two, he led me to unreservedly praise and thank him. I'd been trying to practice this already, but he told me to really, truly put my heart into it, and to believe it. So I did.

No, wait: he led me to do three things. The third was to obey. There was something he'd been telling me to do for a long time; something I had to change in my life, to give up, and I'd been stalling and making excuses. No, it wasn't that. Don't assume. Anyway, I finally did it.

And something really odd happened that day. I got an email from my Google calendar that I had an event coming up the next day. I didn't remember creating that entry. And it had no title, no contents: nothing. Just said there was an all-day event. Then later that day, my phone dinged and gave me the same reminder. I figured I must have somehow created an appointment by accident without realizing it.

The next morning when I woke up, I had an email from a different friend. He said that, as he had been praying for me, God had given him a revelation about me. About how I was blaming myself for others' sins and taking on shame, and about how I needed to forgive both myself and others. My first reaction was, "Well that doesn't sound right. I have forgiven them." But I prayed about it, right then and there, before I even got out of bed. And I was leveled. The Spirit of God revealed to me once again the details of what he had spoken to me through my friend. And my whole life changed.

What he showed me, was that a judgment had been placed on me when I was a small child. A judgment that I was worthless, weird, creepy, odd, a freak, an outcast. Nasty, disgusting, repellent. Nothing. I'm not sure how much detail to go into here. And I'm not sure exactly how to describe it. But here's an attempt: There's this thing that women do, where they are, or see themselves as, mated to the alpha male of a group, and then use their "status" to humiliate and belittle the other males who they perceive as lesser. Sort of an "I'm with him, and you're just a pathetic little nothing". Well, my stepmother did this to me. I know. It's totally weird and creepy. Why would she feel the need to do this to a child? Something having to do with her own insecurities, no doubt. But she did, and it totally FUBARed me and my whole identity. It's almost a form of sexual abuse. Well, it is really, only it's a purely psychological one. This is in addition to all the other, "normal", stepmother cruelty and abuse. I've never been able to tell anybody about it before.

This has shaped all my relationships with women. What I've needed, and been desperately searching for (without fully realizing it), my entire life, is to have someone reverse that judgment. To love me, respect me, tell me I was a good man, a decent man, an honorable man. To look up to me, trust me, and depend on me. But it couldn't be just anyone: it had to be the most significant woman in my life. Because it was the most significant woman in my life who put it there. Hell, it hasn't just shaped my relationships with women, it's shaped my whole life. It's why everything I've done has been to try to prove that I'm not that. Why I've taken all those risks, put myself in dangerous situations over and over, tried to build myself into, not just a man, but a Man.

So when I turned back to the Lord a few years ago, and he led me to the church I've just left, and EVERYTHING in my life started getting better, I met these two ladies: mother and daughter. And I got not one, but two women who started to make me feel better about myself. It took a while to build the relationship, and it took longer for me to really open myself up to them. But it started to come, slowly. The way The Girl would react to me, when I complemented her or when we talked about something interesting. The look of open admiration when I would do something like read a prayer aloud in Anglo-Saxon or speak German to a waitress. The way she trusted me, and would hug me, and blush sometimes, and the way her eyes would light up. It all made me feel sooooo good. And her mother and I became close too. And one day downstairs, after church, the mother came up to me out of nowhere: her eyes were misty, she put her arms around me, and she said softly, "It's an honor to know you." And at that moment, my planet shifted back onto its axis with a resounding and satisfying thunk. That was what I'd needed, all these years, and in that instant she'd become, in a way, my mother.

So then try to imagine what it  did to me when they not only took their love and approval away, but totally turned on me. When she said "acqaintance". When I found out that they saw me as exactly the thing I'd always been terrified people saw me as. Falsely, I might add. I have never been those things. I've SPENT MY LIFE trying to be good, kind, and thoughtful to women, laying down my life in every way possible at every opportunity. Try to imagine what it did to me when I learned that the daughter believed it. That I was, in the eyes of the two to whom I had entirely entrusted my heart, the exact thing that I'd been told I was all those years ago, and against which I'd been struggling All. My. Life. There is no word for it. Devastated. Destroyed. Annihilated. Damned. Despair doesn't begin to cover it. I didn't just wish for death. I wished to be completely snuffed out: to altogether cease to exist.

Because, you see, what this did was all but convince me of the truth of that fear about who God is which I talked about in the opening paragraphs. Do you get it? It wasn't really about me and this girl. It wasn't really about me and her mother. It wasn't really about me and our church. It was about me and the Lord. Because he had been so clearly and visibly working in my life. Because he had brought me so many blessings, so precisely meeting each need I had, when I had turned to him with all my heart. Because it was by following his leading that I had come to love her, her mother, and our whole community so. Because of all this, it brought me into doubt and despair over my relationship with him. Yes, I loved her to distraction. But I did so in the Lord, by his leading, and because I found in her so many things that I loved which were of him.

I still may not be making myself clear. The crisis was: I surrendered myself to God in obedience to his leading, and he changed my heart. I came to this church in obedience to his leading, and he brought me all these blessings. I made change after change to my life in obedience to his leading, and each one led to another blessing. And then, I loved this girl and completely opened myself up to her and to her mother, in obedience to that very same leading, and I got nuked.

And the answer, finally, was this: God brought me to this in order to bring me to the bottom of myself, so that he could uncover and remove the spiritual cancer which lay at the very core of my soul. Not that that's necessarily the end of it: I believe there is still more to be worked out, and I'm still praying for resolution and reconciliation.

So then, now that I'd been brought to realize all this, what next? Well, that was the second part of the message: Forgive.

I'd really thought that I had forgiven them. I publicly announced it right here on this blog. But I'd only forgiven them for the external actions: the misunderstandings and harsh words and all that. I hadn't forgiven them for touching and re-opening my deepest, darkest, oldest wound. And I wasn't really sure even how to go about that kind of forgiveness. But I did it the best I could, and offered it all up to the Lord. And I found release.

And here it is, openly and publicly, for all to see: I forgive you both. Fully. Freely. Completely. Totally. Eternally.

This is not me saying that you were right. Clearly, you were not. This is me saying, you were wrong, but I release you and remit all guilt and debt.

This is also not me saying that my love for either of you was false or based solely in some need inside myself. It was not. The feelings may have touched on my own issues, but they were not based in them: they were genuine, real, and profound. They had to be, or they wouldn't have affected me so. And also, I still love you. Both of you.

A Lovely Surprise

Got an unexpected visit this weekend from my friend Adrianna who, you may remember, I met in Florida last year. Good timing: I really needed a friend just now. She's one of those people I can just talk to, without any effort, and it's always interesting and sympathetic. Isn't it funny how we meet important people in our lives by accident in places we'd never expect?

She took this cool panoramic of my deck. I didn't know you could do that with a phone.

That's the Difference Between Whiskey and You