Un-nerving

{Matthew 6:25-34}

Time is flying by, without a moment of pause for a sigh
Inklings emerge: concerns, reservations, questions
Am I a forerunner?
Am I a grace-bearer?
Am I a reflection of something Excellent?

Purpose, goals, murmurs, and tolls
Am I passing by alright?
Or am I just a momentary fleeting thought?
Where am I heading?
Who am I?
What am I doing? And how?

Question after question
Concern after concern
Like a billion tons on my tender chest
Making its mark, making its press

Then, as in a flash, I remembered
The glorious patterns that dance with delight
The soft glows that drip with sweet perfumes
The whimsical shapes and textures and curves
The rip-rip-rippidy sounds of creatures in the morning mist
Taking flight, above and out of the abyss
These must be those of which You take care of
Gladly

Honeysuckles, razor blade grass, and young saplings
They are more beautiful than the most envied dress
They are more radiant than embroidered gowns
The are a reflection of Your easy yoke
That You've freely given to me
Here, I rest in the palm and branch of Your purpose
Between and beneath Your glory

Unraveling Jealousy

{After visiting multiple national cemeteries in Vukovar, Croatia that were erected to commemorate the battles that happened in the city merely two decades ago, I was hit with the reality of death in war, and its lasting relationship to those who are alive. The implications of death are far reaching, beyond words and structures.}

I've never seen so many graves in my life, the cemeteries of war and brutality and bloodshed, columns and columns of them, city after city. What is it about death that is worth commemorating? Nothing. Graves of war are merely structures that are screaming, shouting aloud for love and peace to the onlookers, "We need Love!" 

Song of Songs 8:6

Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

I've been thinking about this verse lately. What does "jealousy unyielding as the grave" mean? I cannot wrap my head around it. Jesus' love and jealousy, unyielding (fierce, severe, strong) as the grave?

It all starts with His love. God's intense love for us caused him to die, head over heels, blood and gut, tears and sweat, for us. He declared to the heavens and earth the worthiness of His beloved, His people as He came to single-handedly pay the price for those that He longed for from the beginning. His jealousy for man's heart began before the foundations of the earth were laid, way before He even came as a man. Can you imagine? He longed day after day to share Himself, His Spirit with man. He wanted to live in close proximity, and unending intimacy, the kind that grows and grows, throwing the concept of honeymoon out the window--- everyday is honeymoon with Jesus.

So His jealousy for me caused him to come to earth to redeem me. What does this mean for me now? It means I now get to share life with God, in the level of intimacy greater than that of lovers. It means now there is no veil between God and I. Here I am, there He is. Bare and naked, just as we are, hearts exposed. I stand face to face with God's very heart! What can I hide? What can I pretend to be? Fully exposed I stand--- and He loves me just as I am. My shame and my guilt He has taken away. My sin no longer stands in the way-- Jesus consumed those sins with his love through the resurrection. He thought and dreamed of being with me, so He came, paid the price, and took me with him. Yet that's not the end of it.

As I was struggling to find myself in Belgrade a few weeks ago, Jesus showed me a picture I cannot forget. It was a panoramic of a grave in the shape of a cross (irksome), and He was standing next to it holding up a photograph of somebody. As I looked closer to identify the person in the photo, I realized it was my face. I paused. Taken aback, puzzled. Well, what do you mean? Then I realized what He was showing me. You are dead, Sabby. Your death has been accounted for. In my 100% death, there, I find life, the FULLNESS of life.

Romans 6:4 
We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.

Jealousy unyielding as the grave. My grave. I feel the intensity of His jealousy, His breath, His love. He cannot  have just a part of me, His desire is for ALL of me. I have to choose to give him myself, He can't do that for me, he won't. He wants lovers, not slaves. 

Now, it is now, after my death, I live in constant communion with the love of God. The everlasting pleasures of His right hand, the ecstasy of His wine of love fills me, again and again… My joy abounds day after day, for His love is ever-so-increasing in my belly. You know that sensation of gas in your stomach rising? And the constant burping that follows? Well, I'm constantly burping love! And it's actually pleasant! SO pleasant that I might just laugh my head off. And do it all over again. We were made to laugh you know.

Think of the latest romance movie you saw, do you think that love can compare with the love of Christ? The ferocity of His love cannot be quenched. Love is a person. I think this is all too much for my mind to handle. But again, I was made to behold this glory of love. So I try.

A countdown to Serbia plus

Hear thee, hear thee, Oh the land of Yugoslav nations.

As time tick-tocks its way into the months of February and May, the sounds of this Serbo land increase with growing vitality. Oh Heart, can you take hold of this threshold, such one that you've never met, never known? Well, in reply, it only beats steadfastly... faster, faster.

Perhaps I can imagine the cold with one eye closed, dream of the Adriatic winds with my pinkie frozen, yet my head cannot wrap around the reality of this land. I can mimic the school-time strategy of upping stacks and stacks of index cards, with tapering ideas and distant information, just to feel prepared and adequate for this upcoming adventure. But still, my Heart does not slow down. It anticipates perhaps a little more, a little more, and so it goes.

Yet all of this commotion seems to be background noise still.

There is much to lay hold of even now. Much to gaze at, much to be captured by. And by "much," I speak of infinity, the notion of {was, is and is to come}. The Man Christ Jesus. I want to move with every flick of my Lover's eye, every dash of His hand, and every note of His Word. I want to be moved, woo-ed, won into the Garden by Him. Oh New Jerusalem, my heart rests in Thee, where the Faithful and True sits, holding the Key to this fading world. The throne-room falters not, "it is a physical temple on top of a mound."

Heaven, it is not a vapor. There, our heads find rest, our hearts find food. It is coming to Earth soon, oh so very soon.
 

Check out this song by Aaron Leatherdale.

Get ready, my friends and beloved, prepare your hearts! Jesus is coming, and He's bringing heaven with Him.

healing, a subtitle of Love

I've been learning about Love lately.

We can all reach a consensus: love is misrepresented as feeble, cheap, irresponsible, and temporary. But despite this, what is true about love remains true.

Yesterday the Lord gave me pain. He set specific parts of my body in physical pain as I was with different individuals to show me exactly what he wanted to physically heal in the person I was encountering. After recognizing pain in specific body parts I was able to ask the persons whether they experienced pain in those appointed areas. They proceeded with a "Yes," then I prayed for their healing in the name of Jesus, declaring heaven on earth, and claiming what Jesus already died for- disease and pain- on the cross to be completely aligned with Him. Three beloved persons received complete healing in one day.

Healing is already done, as the Lord proclaimed on the cross, "It is finished."  It's an expression of His extreme love for us. He heals not for the sake of healing, but for the purpose of love, which endures and lasts. Let's just say that things don't stop at just physical healing. The reality of love is what follows.

If love was only feel good, self-seeking, and manipulative, then there would be no sustainability. And as we see all around us, "love" is not sustainable: there is always a back alley out of responsibility and relationship. I have good news folks: Love is sustainable. Love is everything the world thinks it's not. It is not self-seeking, nor does it hold grudges; it is not exploitative; it is not defined by temporary feel-good emotions; and most of all, it never fails.

We are designed to get a grip on love. All day long, into eternity.

Loved, most def.

I've lost all things to Him, including my heart. He's ready to meet all of my needs, and I am most readily needy. We make a good combination I guess. Even in my recklessness, emotional rioting, and day-dreaming, he relentlessly strove to gather me. My identity can be none other than Him, for I've counted lost all things... He's my treasure-keeper, and I'm His.

Touch of the wits

Well well, I can't seem to speak, can't seem to write, yet I have so much stored up in the gut, that anything but release would be exceeding the capacity of swallowing thoughts and eating the aims of my heart in writ. Here are several choices I'm given: To write this paper out of spite tonight; to think about the grace that empowers the Kingdom to move forward, even in the midst of impossibilities that are time after time documented; do a combination of both and endure a self that dances and squats within seconds in intervals, overtaken by nervous energy.
I just want to sing of the sorrow of the world, the joy within the sorrow, and the wits of my gut... however they may be in this day. Perhaps sense is something that I cannot hold hands with, yet what should I care? I just see a 4 way chess board and reclaim to myself, what a wonderful world... One that allows us to follow the rules of the game, or expand.

Nothing but praises, nothing but the writs of my wit. I know not why there is refraction and retraction in my nervous system, but I do know that they are within my fleece sweater. How shall I let you out, set you free?

A Half Heart

I don't know what an entire heart would look like. Entire: adj. Not lacking in parts/characteristics. All the hearts I've seen have been artificial or dead. So, what's a real wholesome heart? One that beats, praises, hurts, and the whole chalupa. I want to see a real heart.

I ask Jesus many questions. A lot of times I think I make up my own answers, but somewhere sometime I heard someone say, "It's not about getting a directly audible answer, it's about knowing what Jesus did and following it." That shook up all the cells I relied on for knowing and sensing; loving. My heart felt relief. Hey Jesus, all I have to do is know you?

Watching a friend smile and laugh is a fun activity. When friend becomes a plural noun, you bet the rocket-ship is doing space flips (in this case, that would be an awesomely thing, not deadly.)

I had mole (with an accent on the 'e') for the first time in mi vida today. Yum yum. Thanks, Jo-Jo.

Feeling like you've got nothing to do? Feeling like you've got no motivation to do what you're supposed to be doing? I have a solution! Pray! For what? Nations, people (yes, that could be yo mama), pets, forgiveness, healing, joy, you name it! You coin it. Note: if you do decide to coin it, please do not be angry when it is not taken at your local market.

I decided not to sleep tonight. It is the last night of my freshman adventure in the Jester dormitory, so why not try to pry open my dead-bolted windows again? What is the harm in a little sprummer wind?

My toenails are still bright apple green... I have mixed feelings about them. On one hand (or should I say feet?) they are alive with color, but on the other, I feel like my toes are indifferent to the color. The thought is not too bothersome, but still a fiddling.

I saw a banana holder at Sarah's house today. What happens if you only have one banana left? Solution: banana hammock.

Fill in the blank.
It's ok to c_y.
(Hint: it flows)

I'm bringing your sweater Felix. Febrezed it to get rid of up to 75% of Airborne Allergens that have hidden in the fabric before you become airborne on Monday. (I think 'febreze' is an onomatopoeia.) Thank you for lending it to me!