This past week I saw the movie, RAY, for the second time (story of the famous blind, black musician, Ray Charles). There were a number of very moving scenes in the film, and when the movie was over I came away with the general thought, "I, too, am a person of passion." Ray Charles had a number of passions in his life, one of which was heroin (which nearly ended his career prematurely). The passion he had for keeping a promise he had made to his mother (that he would never allow himself to act like a cripple) is what pulled him out of his addiction and kept him on track to keep fulfilling his number one passion in life - making music.
Most of my life I never would have thought of myself as a passionate person. Bruce Jones was always the cool, calm, rarely ruffled guy. I thought that was a good way to be until a bout with depression temporarily knocked me out of college and my therapist informed me that I was suppressing emotions and thus bringing on depression. Fast forward 10 years and I'm marrying someone who is hoping to have an emotionally satisfying marriage and . . . after 30 years of marriage I'm having to face head-on the reality that I'm broken and non-functional in this very important part of life! BUT, over the years I've been aware that passion has slowly been awakening in me (unfortunately it's not the romantic kind, yet). Slowly, ever so slowly, from time to time, I'll find strong emotion beginning to surface - my throat will tighten, and though tears may not actually materialize I know the first phase of crying is beginning to manifest itself. I actually did have an all-out, tears flowing, weeping session when I met with a Christian healing minister a year and a half ago. What triggered that outburst was my recounting to her the time I had to quickly and unexpectedly leave Honduras, my childhood home, due to my older sister's mental breakdown. I had no clue that this experience had such a strong, deep well of emotion that had never been able to be expressed before. How sad that I had been unable to connect fully with those feelings at the time they were occurring!
I believe there's something in our Western, Christian culture that seriously impedes and hampers the proper expression and full range of our emotions. Passion is viewed more as a negative than a positive, something to be suspicious of and kept under tight control. But I've come to the conclusion that passion is one of God's wonderful gifts to humans, to be fully appreciated and welcomed. "Be angry!" the apostle exhorts us, "but don't sin, and don't let the sun go down on your anger." The problem is not with our passions, but rather with the uncleaness in our hearts that twists our passions in a wrong direction. I know Jesus didn't say it this way, but I think he would agree with this statement: "Blessed are the passionate with pure hearts, for they shall see God."
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Sunday, June 21, 2015
hope deferred
As long as I can remember I was familiar with the proverb out of the Bible, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." The funny thing is I never knew that there was more to that proverb until I looked it up. The entire proverb goes, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a promise fulfilled is a tree of life" (Prov. 13:12). Most people would not choose this (especially the first part) as their "life verse", but this really does summarize quite concisely what my life has been both before and after marriage. When I decided to drop out of post graduate studies because I wanted to devote my life to "knowing God and making Him known", I started down a path of becoming more and more aware of the sickness within my own heart. Instead of finding a God who welcomed me with open arms I found myself continually stumbling forward, trying to grasp those hands that I knew were outstretched towards me but which seemed to be continually retreating. Getting married only intensified this process, for now there were two of us with sick hearts, trying to draw closer to God but having a hard time of it.
My wife, who is very down-to-earth, can say very clearly what her deferred hopes are: a romantically satisfying marriage, daughter healed of Downs Syndrome, and restored relationships with two sons who have been taken from her. My deferred hope is much more metaphysical and less tangible, but to me just as down-to-earth: drawing near to God, walking with Him, loving Him with my entire being, together with loving my wife (which I've come to realize cannot and must never be separated from loving God).
I haven't told too many people that Proverbs 13:12 is my wife's and my life verse, but the few we've told don't give us positive feedback. The response is a pained expression on the face or some kind of comment like, "No, no, don't identify with that kind of negative statement!" But what they don't realize, which is what is slowly starting to sink in, deeply, is that the only way to get to the second half of that verse is to go through the first half. Or to put it another way, the only way to see miracles happen (for yourself) is to really need one. Both my wife and I have been given the grace to believe that miracles should be a normal part of a believer's life. It's as simple or straightforward as hearing what God is saying and believing it (Gal. 3:5). But what do you do when you not only feel that God has told you that He is going to heal your daughter; others have also encouraged you to believe for this; and Scripture itself tells us that "nothing is impossible to them that believe" (Mt. 17:20); yet year after year goes by with nothing happening. That's what hope deferred has been for us.
Of course, one simple solution is to stop believing for such impossible things. But I don't want a God who's salvation is only in the abstract (saving me from hell and getting me to heaven after I die). I want a God whose salvation is just as evident in this present physical realm as it is in the non-physical, spiritual realm. The God that the Bible speaks of, that Jesus represented. The walk of faith is not for wimps, is it (check out Hebrews 11)? We can imitate the heroes of faith, but only to a point. I've heard it said that for faith to be genuine one must walk a path that has never been walked before. That can be scary. One can feel very vulnerable . . . and subject to heartsickness.
My wife, who is very down-to-earth, can say very clearly what her deferred hopes are: a romantically satisfying marriage, daughter healed of Downs Syndrome, and restored relationships with two sons who have been taken from her. My deferred hope is much more metaphysical and less tangible, but to me just as down-to-earth: drawing near to God, walking with Him, loving Him with my entire being, together with loving my wife (which I've come to realize cannot and must never be separated from loving God).
I haven't told too many people that Proverbs 13:12 is my wife's and my life verse, but the few we've told don't give us positive feedback. The response is a pained expression on the face or some kind of comment like, "No, no, don't identify with that kind of negative statement!" But what they don't realize, which is what is slowly starting to sink in, deeply, is that the only way to get to the second half of that verse is to go through the first half. Or to put it another way, the only way to see miracles happen (for yourself) is to really need one. Both my wife and I have been given the grace to believe that miracles should be a normal part of a believer's life. It's as simple or straightforward as hearing what God is saying and believing it (Gal. 3:5). But what do you do when you not only feel that God has told you that He is going to heal your daughter; others have also encouraged you to believe for this; and Scripture itself tells us that "nothing is impossible to them that believe" (Mt. 17:20); yet year after year goes by with nothing happening. That's what hope deferred has been for us.
Of course, one simple solution is to stop believing for such impossible things. But I don't want a God who's salvation is only in the abstract (saving me from hell and getting me to heaven after I die). I want a God whose salvation is just as evident in this present physical realm as it is in the non-physical, spiritual realm. The God that the Bible speaks of, that Jesus represented. The walk of faith is not for wimps, is it (check out Hebrews 11)? We can imitate the heroes of faith, but only to a point. I've heard it said that for faith to be genuine one must walk a path that has never been walked before. That can be scary. One can feel very vulnerable . . . and subject to heartsickness.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
divine child abuse
I ran across this phrase, "divine child abuse", in a forward to a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. His emphasis on "costly grace" was frowned upon by those who could not wrap their minds around the idea of divine wrath and justice being satisfied by the sacrifice of God's Son on a cross. To be honest, I've never been able to wrap my mind around that either. I'm convinced that requires a revelation that only the Spirit can communicate.
What I do have a clearer grasp on, though, is that the dealings of God in my own life can indeed feel like divine child abuse, Why can't we as believers be more honest and upfront about this? The Bible certainly is! There is a whole book in the Bible (Job) devoted to the theme of bad things happening to a good person, with God's permission. I won't take the time here to give specific references to Bible passages (well, here's one: Ps,30:7b, "When you hid your face I was dismayed,"), but the Bible is full of examples of God not only withholding blessing but even causing pain. Most of the time it was for an obvious reason (sin), but not always. Did Joseph deserve to be sold into slavery and then be thrown into prison for doing the right thing? But let's cut to the chase. What does Scripture say about how the Father treated His own Son? "Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him, [to] put him to grief" (Is. 53:10). There's obviously deep mystery involved in pain and suffering that no amount of Christianeze can adequately explain.
Please don't give pat answers to those who are enduring pain and suffering because there are none. Instead, quietly come alongside and learn to listen. Understand that you are not separate from them but intricately connected. Before we can even begin to open our mouths we have to be sure that we've been able to fully identify with them in their suffering. That's what Jesus did.
The greatest mystery/suffering in my life at this point revolves around this question: Why is God taking so long to come close to me when I have spent my lifetime seeking to draw close to Him? It does feel like child abuse. That's why Jesus' parable of the unjust judge makes so much sense to me. Because a time is coming, apparently right before Jesus returns, when God will indeed appear to be an unjust judge, or an abusive father. Only the qualities of hope and patient endurance will carry us through such times, qualities we don't look forward to being trained in.
What I do have a clearer grasp on, though, is that the dealings of God in my own life can indeed feel like divine child abuse, Why can't we as believers be more honest and upfront about this? The Bible certainly is! There is a whole book in the Bible (Job) devoted to the theme of bad things happening to a good person, with God's permission. I won't take the time here to give specific references to Bible passages (well, here's one: Ps,30:7b, "When you hid your face I was dismayed,"), but the Bible is full of examples of God not only withholding blessing but even causing pain. Most of the time it was for an obvious reason (sin), but not always. Did Joseph deserve to be sold into slavery and then be thrown into prison for doing the right thing? But let's cut to the chase. What does Scripture say about how the Father treated His own Son? "Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him, [to] put him to grief" (Is. 53:10). There's obviously deep mystery involved in pain and suffering that no amount of Christianeze can adequately explain.
Please don't give pat answers to those who are enduring pain and suffering because there are none. Instead, quietly come alongside and learn to listen. Understand that you are not separate from them but intricately connected. Before we can even begin to open our mouths we have to be sure that we've been able to fully identify with them in their suffering. That's what Jesus did.
The greatest mystery/suffering in my life at this point revolves around this question: Why is God taking so long to come close to me when I have spent my lifetime seeking to draw close to Him? It does feel like child abuse. That's why Jesus' parable of the unjust judge makes so much sense to me. Because a time is coming, apparently right before Jesus returns, when God will indeed appear to be an unjust judge, or an abusive father. Only the qualities of hope and patient endurance will carry us through such times, qualities we don't look forward to being trained in.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
why I have hope
One day Jesus taught the apostles to keep praying and never stop or lose hope. He shared with them this illustration:
"In a certain town there was a civil judge, a thick-skinned and godless man who had no fear of others' opinions. And there was a poor widow in that town who kept pleading with the judge, 'Grant me justice and protect me against my oppressor'!
"He ignored her pleas for quite some time, but she kept asking. Eventually he said to himself, 'This widow keeps annoying me, demanding her rights, and I'm tired of listening to her. Even though I'm not a religious man and don't care about the opinions of others, I'll just get her off my back by answering her claims for justice and I'll rule in her favor. The she'll leave me alone'.
The Lord continued, "Did you hear what the ungodly judge said - that he would answer her persistent request? Don't you know that God, the true judge, will grant justice to all of his chosen ones who cry out to him night and day? He will pour out his Spirit upon them. He will not delay to answer you and give you what you ask for. God will give swift justice to those who don't give up.
So be ever praying, ever expecting, just like the widow was with the judge. Yet when the Son of Man comes back, will he find this kind of persistent faithfulness in his people? (Luke 18:1-8 TPT)
"In a certain town there was a civil judge, a thick-skinned and godless man who had no fear of others' opinions. And there was a poor widow in that town who kept pleading with the judge, 'Grant me justice and protect me against my oppressor'!
"He ignored her pleas for quite some time, but she kept asking. Eventually he said to himself, 'This widow keeps annoying me, demanding her rights, and I'm tired of listening to her. Even though I'm not a religious man and don't care about the opinions of others, I'll just get her off my back by answering her claims for justice and I'll rule in her favor. The she'll leave me alone'.
The Lord continued, "Did you hear what the ungodly judge said - that he would answer her persistent request? Don't you know that God, the true judge, will grant justice to all of his chosen ones who cry out to him night and day? He will pour out his Spirit upon them. He will not delay to answer you and give you what you ask for. God will give swift justice to those who don't give up.
So be ever praying, ever expecting, just like the widow was with the judge. Yet when the Son of Man comes back, will he find this kind of persistent faithfulness in his people? (Luke 18:1-8 TPT)
better?
Is it really better to walk in the darkness than to live in the illusion of light? Years ago I used to wish that I had been "saved" out of some terribly dark pit of sin so that I would have a clear testimony of God's grace and mercy. I've always felt that I was among those who love little because I've been forgiven little (or so it feels). Having been raised in a "good" Christian home, never rebelled, always done the "right" thing, I've never had a sense of being much of a sinner. In my mind I knew and had been taught how sinful we all are before a holy God, but I've never really felt it in the core of my being. Until the past couple of years. My eyes have slowly been opening up to the stark reality of a huge dysfunction (sin) that has had a debilitating effect on my marriage. My wife has been blessed with great sensitivity, as well as honesty - both characteristics that have served me well in bringing to light this truly horrible, twisted part of me. For so many years I rationalized away the seriousness of this matter, trying to encourage my wife to focus on what we do have in our marriage and not let what is lacking to trip us up.
Long story short: my growing awareness of this, along with not seeing any progress in overcoming it, has been a major contributor to my sense of walking in darkness instead of in the light. Aren't all good, Spirit-filled Christians, supposed to be walking in the light, full of love, joy, peace, etc.? I believe God has been hearing my cries to be delivered from this stronghold of the enemy, but why is He taking so long to answer and do what He promises to do for those who put their trust in Him? After going twice to a professional, Christian therapist/minister I felt very clearly that God spoke to me and said that we didn't need to look to professionals to help us in this area, that He was going to use the very weaknesses that hinder us the most as the training ground to prepare us for what He wants us to do in the future. So we quit going . . . and the struggles have continued unabated. During the last 6 months I have decided to focus on prayer, drawing closer to God, to overcome what I've ended up calling a "fear of intimacy". But God doesn't jump when we snap our fingers, does He? His ways and His timing are just not the same as ours. For now He seems content to let us continue struggling in the darkness. Even my prayers are a huge struggle. I rarely can find the right words and usually fall back on the one word that always brings me a measure of peace: "Daddy . . .Daddy . . .!"
"Who is blind but my servant,
and deaf like the messenger I send?
Who is blind like the one committed to me,
blind like the servant of the LORD?" (Isaiah 42:19)
"For judgment I have come into the world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind. . . If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains." - Jesus (Jn.9:39-41)
The mysteries of God are more satisfying than the answers of men. - G.K. Chesterton
Long story short: my growing awareness of this, along with not seeing any progress in overcoming it, has been a major contributor to my sense of walking in darkness instead of in the light. Aren't all good, Spirit-filled Christians, supposed to be walking in the light, full of love, joy, peace, etc.? I believe God has been hearing my cries to be delivered from this stronghold of the enemy, but why is He taking so long to answer and do what He promises to do for those who put their trust in Him? After going twice to a professional, Christian therapist/minister I felt very clearly that God spoke to me and said that we didn't need to look to professionals to help us in this area, that He was going to use the very weaknesses that hinder us the most as the training ground to prepare us for what He wants us to do in the future. So we quit going . . . and the struggles have continued unabated. During the last 6 months I have decided to focus on prayer, drawing closer to God, to overcome what I've ended up calling a "fear of intimacy". But God doesn't jump when we snap our fingers, does He? His ways and His timing are just not the same as ours. For now He seems content to let us continue struggling in the darkness. Even my prayers are a huge struggle. I rarely can find the right words and usually fall back on the one word that always brings me a measure of peace: "Daddy . . .Daddy . . .!"
"Who is blind but my servant,
and deaf like the messenger I send?
Who is blind like the one committed to me,
blind like the servant of the LORD?" (Isaiah 42:19)
"For judgment I have come into the world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind. . . If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains." - Jesus (Jn.9:39-41)
The mysteries of God are more satisfying than the answers of men. - G.K. Chesterton
Saturday, June 13, 2015
the valley of the shadow of death
This
has been a strange year so far. In another blog I may explain
why, but I have a great expectation of a breakthrough this year,
beginning this summer. But the lead-up so far has been anything
but, which I trust is only proving the saying that the darkness is
the greatest before the dawn. Both my wife and I have been
struggling with discouragement and spiritual fatigue. One can
only hang in there so long. I don't like to blog when I'm in a
spiritual "down" time (which is why you haven't seen any
blogs for a while). But I've decided that, 1. it's not honest
to only blog on the "good" days, and, 2. I would like to
have some record of the hard times so I don't forget what I've come
through. I don't want to ever take for granted the goodness and grace of God when it becomes more clearly manifested.
Too many words can clutter the mind so I will try and keep this and future blogs brief and to the point. Here are two short poems that came to me recently.
I thought I saw the light of dawn -
But it was only the light of man's creation.
A light rain was falling
And I didn't even know it.
I long for the downpour -
A clear sign of cleansing,
of a change so desperately needed.
Instead, a light rain falls;
Tears from heaven
mingling with mine.
"In all their affliction He was afflicted." (Isaiah 63:9)
The other day I ran across a journal I had started to keep way back in 1996. In the March 22 entry I felt I had received the following as a comforting word from God, in response to my honest admission that I felt like I was still walking in so much darkness, but was desperately wanting more of His light.
"It is better to walk in the reality of the darkness than to walk in an illusion of light."
Wow! That word spoke to me just as powerfully in my present circumstances as it did way back then. In my next blog I will explain why this word means so much to me.
Sunday, January 27, 2013
awake or die!
One of the underlying assumptions that you will notice running through these blogs is that the physical realm is a window into the spiritual realm. The greatest example of this is Jesus, who not only taught through parables, but who pointed to his physical being and said, "If you have seen me, you have seen the Father."
So one of my goals in life is to wake up to what God is trying to say to us through the physical realm that we have been created to live and experience God in.
One of the greatest dangers in life is to be lulled into a sense of complacency, where we go through life not fully alive, not fully engaging with our Creator or His call on our life. Jesus' harshest words were directed to such people, even though they claimed to be his representatives. To the church at Laodicea he said that he wished that they would either be hot or cold, because if they continued to only be lukewarm he would have to spew them out of his mouth. Just a few days ago I feel like I got a similar wake-up call, only it came in a very physical, dramatic way. I have a terrible weakness in that I can easily fall asleep at the wheel. Once, a couple of years ago, I dozed off while driving home from work. I awoke from my 2 or 3 second slumber to find that the car had drifted across the oncoming lane and onto the shoulder, the roughness of which woke me up! That shook me up pretty bad . . . but not bad enough to really do anything about it. I thought I could somehow will myself to never let that happen again. Well, I discovered just a few days ago that I had been lulled into a very dangerous sense of complacency. This time I was driving on a busier stretch of road and wasn't even aware that drowsiness was coming on me. Before I knew it, I was waking up, just like it had happened before, with the car having crossed over into the opposite lane and was heading onto that shoulder. This time, though, there was another car involved, and it had swerved so far over off it's shoulder that it had crossed a ditch and was trying to avoid hitting a fence. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't stop to make sure the other driver was OK (but from what I could see in my rear view mirror he/she seemed alright). But I knew now that I was not OK. I've decided I need to take steps correct this problem before I kill myself or someone else!
As serious as this physical problem is, there is no doubt in my mind that it pales in comparison to the spiritual condition of our souls. It is so easy - way too easy - to assume that we're doing OK spiritually, when in fact we may truly be in a similar situation, spiritually, that I found myself in at the physical level. Those of us in the Church are familiar with Jesus' warning to the Laodicean believers and we try hard to think that we're not as bad as those lukewarm people. But it should be extremely sobering to us to read Jesus' warning to the
Ephesian church, the strongest and most pre-eminent of the churches that Paul had established. If I'm not mistaken, this was the church where the beloved apostle John (the one disciple who enjoyed the most intimate relationship with the Lord) spent his last years of ministry before being imprisoned on the Isle of Patmos. In Revelation 2 Jesus warns this church that they had lost their "first love", and if they failed to repent the lampstand (their light source) would be removed from their midst.
Are we as Christians being the salt and light in our society that Jesus said his disciples should be? Or are we like the salt that has lost its savor and (to quote Jesus) "is only fit to be thrown out and trod underfoot"? I for one know that I am far from measuring up to Jesus' requirements to be his disciple. At times I wonder if I have ever even truly entered into the reality of the gospel (good news) that Jesus proclaimed. My grasp of it has only been an intellectual one. I've had no deep-seated, heart felt, awareness of my sinful, lost condition, which is a pre-requisite to genuine repentance and a joyful receiving of God's forgiveness. I'm among those whom Jesus described as loving little because they've been forgiven little. I've always been a "good guy", doing my best to be obedient to God and His Word - probably much like the rich young ruler whom Jesus loved, but whom Jesus said was not yet a part of God's kingdom. I may be one step ahead of that young man because I have given my life over to following Jesus. But something is still seriously wrong in me. Like those who suffer from sleep apnia (which could be my problem and the cause of my falling asleep at the wheel) I feel like I'm oxygen deprived, spiritually. I was raised and trained in studying the written Word, but I have great difficulty knowing and relating to the Spirit, who is the breath of God to us. I feel like I was brain-damaged at (my spiritual) birth because although there was plenty of water (the written Word) there was a lack of oxygen (the Spirit). [Not to point a finger at the part of the Church I was raised in. Those in the Church who emphasize the Spirit are often lacking in the Word, so there can be imbalance in either direction.]
But I am not without hope! I take inspiration from Jesus' parable of the persistent widow and the the unjust judge. I am determined to not let go of my persistent prayers, asking the Father to finish the work He has begun in me. Jesus is the one I look to to heal whatever damage the "lack of oxygen" in my new birth may have caused. I long to breathe deeply of His Spirit, as well as to drink deeply of His Word. He has given me great hope that he will indeed fulfill this longing within me and within all who realize that if they don't get more oxygen, they either die or live well below their potential. If we fail to wake up to our true condition we are headed for a life-threatening collision with reality.
So one of my goals in life is to wake up to what God is trying to say to us through the physical realm that we have been created to live and experience God in.
One of the greatest dangers in life is to be lulled into a sense of complacency, where we go through life not fully alive, not fully engaging with our Creator or His call on our life. Jesus' harshest words were directed to such people, even though they claimed to be his representatives. To the church at Laodicea he said that he wished that they would either be hot or cold, because if they continued to only be lukewarm he would have to spew them out of his mouth. Just a few days ago I feel like I got a similar wake-up call, only it came in a very physical, dramatic way. I have a terrible weakness in that I can easily fall asleep at the wheel. Once, a couple of years ago, I dozed off while driving home from work. I awoke from my 2 or 3 second slumber to find that the car had drifted across the oncoming lane and onto the shoulder, the roughness of which woke me up! That shook me up pretty bad . . . but not bad enough to really do anything about it. I thought I could somehow will myself to never let that happen again. Well, I discovered just a few days ago that I had been lulled into a very dangerous sense of complacency. This time I was driving on a busier stretch of road and wasn't even aware that drowsiness was coming on me. Before I knew it, I was waking up, just like it had happened before, with the car having crossed over into the opposite lane and was heading onto that shoulder. This time, though, there was another car involved, and it had swerved so far over off it's shoulder that it had crossed a ditch and was trying to avoid hitting a fence. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't stop to make sure the other driver was OK (but from what I could see in my rear view mirror he/she seemed alright). But I knew now that I was not OK. I've decided I need to take steps correct this problem before I kill myself or someone else!
As serious as this physical problem is, there is no doubt in my mind that it pales in comparison to the spiritual condition of our souls. It is so easy - way too easy - to assume that we're doing OK spiritually, when in fact we may truly be in a similar situation, spiritually, that I found myself in at the physical level. Those of us in the Church are familiar with Jesus' warning to the Laodicean believers and we try hard to think that we're not as bad as those lukewarm people. But it should be extremely sobering to us to read Jesus' warning to the
Ephesian church, the strongest and most pre-eminent of the churches that Paul had established. If I'm not mistaken, this was the church where the beloved apostle John (the one disciple who enjoyed the most intimate relationship with the Lord) spent his last years of ministry before being imprisoned on the Isle of Patmos. In Revelation 2 Jesus warns this church that they had lost their "first love", and if they failed to repent the lampstand (their light source) would be removed from their midst.
Are we as Christians being the salt and light in our society that Jesus said his disciples should be? Or are we like the salt that has lost its savor and (to quote Jesus) "is only fit to be thrown out and trod underfoot"? I for one know that I am far from measuring up to Jesus' requirements to be his disciple. At times I wonder if I have ever even truly entered into the reality of the gospel (good news) that Jesus proclaimed. My grasp of it has only been an intellectual one. I've had no deep-seated, heart felt, awareness of my sinful, lost condition, which is a pre-requisite to genuine repentance and a joyful receiving of God's forgiveness. I'm among those whom Jesus described as loving little because they've been forgiven little. I've always been a "good guy", doing my best to be obedient to God and His Word - probably much like the rich young ruler whom Jesus loved, but whom Jesus said was not yet a part of God's kingdom. I may be one step ahead of that young man because I have given my life over to following Jesus. But something is still seriously wrong in me. Like those who suffer from sleep apnia (which could be my problem and the cause of my falling asleep at the wheel) I feel like I'm oxygen deprived, spiritually. I was raised and trained in studying the written Word, but I have great difficulty knowing and relating to the Spirit, who is the breath of God to us. I feel like I was brain-damaged at (my spiritual) birth because although there was plenty of water (the written Word) there was a lack of oxygen (the Spirit). [Not to point a finger at the part of the Church I was raised in. Those in the Church who emphasize the Spirit are often lacking in the Word, so there can be imbalance in either direction.]
But I am not without hope! I take inspiration from Jesus' parable of the persistent widow and the the unjust judge. I am determined to not let go of my persistent prayers, asking the Father to finish the work He has begun in me. Jesus is the one I look to to heal whatever damage the "lack of oxygen" in my new birth may have caused. I long to breathe deeply of His Spirit, as well as to drink deeply of His Word. He has given me great hope that he will indeed fulfill this longing within me and within all who realize that if they don't get more oxygen, they either die or live well below their potential. If we fail to wake up to our true condition we are headed for a life-threatening collision with reality.
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