My head in the clouds dreaming dreams of imaginary discovery and fulfillment; conceptualizing delusions of happenings, never to happen, from a wish-list of inactivity, I’ll continue years of self disappointment I could easily end, if I could pray. If I could pray, things would never be the same in my head or in my heart where the beauty I dream defies the life I lead and the good I will to do could become the good that I do, simply by doing it. If I could pray I’d challenge God to make His will my will instead of my will His and I’d abandon fruitless explorations of momentary amusement and wishes for curses I misunderstood to be blessings. I’d shorten my longing for empty times and frivolous activities to fill my life with pursuits of depth and piqued awareness. I’d lengthen my endurance to accept the imperfections and impositions I spurn through the repetitive bursts of hypocrisy I’ve thrust upon others. I’d reach beyond my autonomy into the compliance of coexistence and lower the noise of my intolerance to a whisper of sweet songs into God’s ear. If I could pray, a single prayer could transform my view and answer the senseless trivia I pursue with gratification for the wholeness I’d receive. If I could pray I’d peer into the hopeless condition of my limited desires and wishes with the understanding that I hold no answers, no solutions, no special powers to decide correctly on my own. If I could pray I’d fall on my knees and go to the Father with fervent intercession for those whose hatred boils in opposition to prayers I’d pray.
But prayer is difficult when conditional relationships rule out the unconditional nature of love; when selfish personal desires veto the selflessness of giving; when the hatred-for-hatred exchange creates a perpetual garden of riotous cannibalization.
But if by chance, I could look inward with the humility of my limitations and convince myself that prayer will break my, otherwise, hopeless condition, I’d ask for forgiveness and this would be the that prayer I would pray:
If I could pray.

“You lust and do not have. You murder and covet and cannot obtain. You fight and war. Yet you do not have because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask amiss, that you may spend it on your pleasures.” James 4:2-3 (NKJV)

Extended over the edge of a 24-hour day that seems more like 48; dragging sorrow and strife from yesterday, over the timeline; contaminating dreams of tomorrow. I’m wasting time I don’t have, looking past time I occupy, heading toward the times I’m not certain of. Merging anguish into my potential; potentially eliminating recovery to pick the scabs off healed wounds and immerse myself in re-injury. Un-finishing finishes and projecting discarded failures into the perfection of possibility; I’m free to destroy any chance of success in exchange for the joy of languishing in my own sadness. Turning back time trying to avoid tough times; I multiply my bad times, times the number of times I’ve resolved them. Never getting over things I’ve overcome, I go over them into overtime. Reflecting on broken mirror reflections, making broken glass appear like broken faces: breaking hearts. Orchestrating misery in the rubbish I refuse to release, I’ve become a hoarder of useless events and emotions; living in the dim light of an artificial existence; unaware of the shards of radiant sunlight beckoning me to turn toward the open door.

“Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14 (NKJV)

“Let go. Why do you cling to pain? There is nothing you can do about the wrongs of yesterday. It is not yours to judge. Why hold on to the very thing which keeps you from hope and love?” – Leo Buscaglia

Man: Tech manual neatly wrapped in plastic, temporarily discarded, we open up our package of life and approach our future as it presents itself to us. Pieces and parts randomly scattered, we take on the challenge in a sequence that feels most comfortable to our style of learning. Sizing up parts against joints and screws for compatibility, sorting like-pieces for organizational ease, measuring the parts that make up the whole, we visualize the final product in its perfection, then we reward ourselves for our genius in problem-solving and we take a break. The break turns into a nap and the nap turns into other things to do and the other things turn into a very touchy project on our honey-do list. Eventually we are missing pieces and all of these things become a giant question about our competence to finish what we started.
Questions about this world are met with mystery and uncertainty. Answers change in time and space and true becomes different and impossible becomes likely. The rock-solid truths we built our lives on can become an avalanche of miscalculation in the time it takes to take a nap. A magical dream of assurance can converge into a horrific perpetual nightmare. Postponed opportunities can disappear, never to return. The certainty of the world’s course is that there is no certainty in the world, of course!
All of this can be resolved by starting out with the tech manual but, at any point, the manual can rescue a failed project. The Book of our lives, which knows us personally and knows the pieces that fit and tools to use, knows the measure of time we need to build perfect peace. If we take the nap we may have to start at a different point. If we allow the nap to turn into an ongoing project, it may cost us opportunities but our Book of instructions has the power to meet us at the point of our needs and give us personal instruction on how to finish the project successfully. When the project we started begins to look like a shabby, weak, disjointed divergence from the product we intended it to be, the manual for mankind, the Bible, is exactly what is needed at the exact time of need.
Woman: Why is the manual still in the plastic? Let’s see what the manual says. Project complete!

“One of these days some simple soul will pick up the Book of God, read it, and believe it. Then the rest of us will be embarrassed. We have adopted the convenient theory that the Bible is a Book to be explained, whereas first and foremost it is a Book to be believed (and after that to be obeyed).” – Leonard Ravenhill

I was in a conversation where I referenced God by saying that I got on my knees. Innocently, I thought I was conveying the fact that I believe all good things to come from God and that I reverence Him by getting on my knees, but God, as He often does, made it abundantly clear to me that I should never hint about who He is. He didn’t say it audibly but He did say it. That never-ending replay of the conversation became the center of my attention until the “ah ha” moment smashed me over the head with the truth of it. “How would anyone know your knees meant you were talking about me”?
Would you reference your spouse in conversation by saying you went to the movies with “a person” or what if you called them “my spouse”? God forbid! We don’t use generic terms to refer to people we love, yet, the relationship we have with a spouse is but a pin-prick of the relationship God wants us to have with Him.

That speck in your eye: One of my favorite scriptures, that I try to live by, is Matthew 7:3 “And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?” Every time I think I’m making great progress I’m somehow reminded of how much improvement I really needed and continue to need. I said all of that to say that my sensitivities to what people say have been heightened by my relationship with Jesus Christ. When people are referring to God’s goodness with references like, “the universe”, “the higher power”, “whatever god you serve”, the creator”, “the man upstairs’ and yes, merry xmas, I feel a need to instantly restate those terms even if it’s just in my own head.

That plank in my own eye: It’s judgmental; and hypocritical! Why? Because I am still subject to the same mistake. Although in my mind I may consider mine, a more educated mistake, does it make it any less a denial of God? Comparing my sin to others’ sin doesn’t make me any less a sinner, it makes me a hypocrite, which by the way, is a characteristic we commonly share.

“The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess. ’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner! ’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 18: 11-14 (NKJV)

When the door is locked from the inside, the lights go down and turned-back covers invite the sleepy mind to rest. The will to sleep cannot conquer the silent judgement of a day of false confidence and propped up reality. The truth of who you are, to you, replays the day you can’t seem to leave behind. Patterns of stagnant patterns recycling the same thing, only different. There’s a lack of success in the successes you’ve had. Being just like Mike ends up being just like you, pretending to be like Mike. Sidetracks taking you off track in matters that don’t matter. Left of left field or too far right to see the center. Pointing to what’s missing but missing the point of why it’s missing. Holding on to things that are holding you down and pushing away for fear of being pushed away. Your heart phone is ringing and “that thing” that someone said is stuck on “play until acknowledged” in your head. Tomorrow’s hours become today and the battle for sleep becomes an all-out war to ignore. “Pick up the phone, pick up the phone!” Fatigue will temporarily end the struggle with dreams of horror and questions about why. The exhaustion that terminated in restless sleep didn’t bring satisfaction but life goes on and coffee energizes, and patterns repeat.
Ironically, that’s the call we never miss even if we don’t answer it.
Oh by the way, that was Jesus. Don’t worry, He’ll call back!

“I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my mind; and in the midst of tears.”
Francis Thompson
“The Hound of Heaven”

The most complex puzzles we can create can eventually be mastered by others. The complexity of a chess challenge requires the concentration of sharp minds to operate a bold strategy to defeat a constantly changing force of opposition; a moving target. Yet, with practice and continued exercise of the brain muscle even a novice chess player can become a brilliant strategist. The things we are able to develop or create are always subject to the dissection of more advanced thinking. Even if we never had experience in certain areas, with a little work and persistence, we can figure them out. In our amazing discovery of many of the, so-called, secrets of life, we have declared ourselves masters of the universe, and we are not! Our abilities, though amazing, are still very limited.
Human explanations for divine occurrences and principles are not nearly as accurately defined or resolved. When our curiosities are piqued we demand answers (or a sign) and although we are willing to work for it, many cannot accept that some of those answers will never be revealed to us in this life. Why not? Because Christianity is not so much about what we know, as it is about who we know. Faith (in God) over self reliance is the opposite of many of the mixed messages we’ve received since the time we were small children.
Challenged by a new way of thinking, many begin the search for truth in a whirling circular journey bent on disproving the things they don’t understand. Always ending up back where they started out, they conclude, “if I can’t understand it, it can’t be right”. And like a puppy with a chew toy, they remain so focused on a counter argument, their hearts close to the worry-free grace, that is the answer. While we listen intently for what sounds like the contradiction, we miss the answer. When the answer is “it is not for you to know” we find that unacceptable. We may have missed the words “at this time” or “for your own good” that may have been implied at the end of the sentence.
Do we challenge the Word for answers or are we just looking for an argument? Do we think we should have all the answers? All the answers? I repeat that statement to summarize the level of expectation it implies, yet, it is the spirit of the inquisition that will likely cause God to deny the answer. If we had all the answers, why would we need God?
By now, in the year 2016, we have seen enough unexplained confusion to easily conclude that we don’t have all the answers but, in reality, God loves to give answers. But God doesn’t work like Siri and even though proper diction is not a deal-breaker, He does require a relationship, and the answers are complimentary. If you’re not getting answers to your questions you should check your relationship, then your intensions and if your relationship is solid and your intensions pure, he promises to grant wisdom.

The fact is, there is nothing that we cannot know except those things that make God, God; the things that make Him holy; His mysteries. “Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty? They are higher than the heavens above – what can you do? They are deeper than the depths below – what can you know? Job 11:7-8. (NIV). The New Living Translation poses those questions, who are you, and, what do you know? Those are good admonishments, applicable to challenging God’s word for “sport”, but those questions were spoken to Job, admonishing him for demanding answers from God. Job’s relationship with God was his pass to demand answers from God, himself. Demanding answers from the Source of all answers is the assurance that we will either know the answer or learn to accept the mystery. Without the relationship and the faith there will never be clarity; only more questions and more arguments.

I remember in grade school being tricked into taking a test that was really about nothing. The object was to see if we were paying attention and if we could follow directions. The point was that we didn’t really have to take the test at all if we read the first line or two, carefully. The instructions cryptically guided us to a list of minimal requirements most of us believed were too good to be true. Sign your name, answer question 1 and 50 and turn in your paper. “No way that could be the test” we reasoned and we went ahead to read the other subterfuge that pushed us toward spending the next hour or more, engaged in earning a grade we had no need for. The deeper we got into the test, the more difficult and ridiculous it became. Even when we saw other people completing the test and turning it in, we resisted the urge to follow. We either lacked the confidence that we were as smart as they were or we lacked the humility to examine ourselves to see if maybe we could have been wrong about the instructions.
And such is the Christian life! Sometimes the answer is not complicated. Sometimes the signs are all around and we keep going our way. The further we get away from our original instructions, the more difficult it seems to get back. Sometimes it will require courage to go in a different direction. If we earn it, the reward ends right there. We must humble ourselves in order to conform to a learning posture. Everything God has for us is too good but it is true. Jesus is the bridge over the other 48 questions we never have to answer. The test would be over if we could skip over the rhetoric, the accusations, the philosophies, the guilt, the shame, the excuses and the millions of obstacles, and get to Jesus!

Now turn in your paper!

“And behold, a woman, which was diseased with an issue of blood twelve years, came behind Him, and touched the hem of His garment: For she said within herself, If I may but touch His garment, I shall be whole.” Matthew 9:21 (KJV)

When chicken soup won’t cure the need for warmth around the heart and the expression of my need is beyond articulation, surrender opens rivers of miraculous transformations tailored for the shape of my individuality. Letting go; releasing Goliath-like imaginations with legitimate constraints and legitimate damnations. Blessed assurance relieves the anxieties of bruised sensitivities and soothes the fears of dreamed-up scenarios that never play out. Could-be problems, stacked at the altar of never-to-be problems, rest in a memorial to submission; safely tucked away in the solution that was already provided before the problem ever existed.

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” Matthew 11:28 (NKJV)

Deep in a dark hole in America lies a bottomless chasm of contradiction for which we have many opinions but no explanations. For me, the realization that everything in my view and earshot should be scrutinized through my rusty wheels of thought, and resolved in my stagnant pool of baseless assumptions, helps relieve the pressures on my ever-questioning mind. Every experience multiplies the weight of my hypotheses and I suppose, and I reason, until my head size doubles; forcing pressure to build and ultimately the release comes through my keyboard. I suppose I should act but I’m not that kind of curious. I’ll think long and hard before ever thinking of doing something about it. A skeptical ponderer: I wonder as I wander through guesses and suppositions, symbolically untangling complications and meeting contradictions head-on in my fantasies. Recognizing the world’s missteps and analyzing humanity’s ungraceful attempt at coordination, I record the ironic realism on mental tapes with highly questionable accuracy; filtered through judgmental interpretations. I’m not a questioner of lies and liars but a questioner of the factuality of truths; a doubter of declarative honesty: a human expositor, and yet a hypocrite of epic pettiness.
The log obstructing my vision may be blinding me but let me have a look at that speck of yours. My view, my interest, my needs are not important unless yours are different and then naturally I will be happy to explain why yours are wrong. My changing philosophies are not a sign of instability, they are a sign of flexibility; fluidity even. I’m on the move; stacking decks and crashing through obstacles like the Dukes of Hazard, avoiding hazards and creating chaos. Curving and swerving around decisions looking for the copacetic in disgruntled angry faces; irate over anger. Exposing the awful stench of dirty laundry, with no intent to wash clothes. I think I’ll drink my coffee and go to sleep.

The Good: Remember that strange guy that no one ever wanted to be around and you were the only person who tolerated him without insulting him? He chose you to be his friend without your consent. He automatically saw something in you that was protective for him. You thought it was a weakness but it was really him reading you like a book. It was his ability to see that you were not threatening that finally convinced you that deep down inside you were a good person. You didn’t quite understand it but you were a good person wasting away in your own goodness. Good like you didn’t know you were good. It was you, wrapped in the good that wasn’t good enough for you to love it. Why? Because you controlled the good and you had no idea what to do with it or what it was all about. Driven by a healthy respect for humankind, you thought people were basically good and deserving of kindness. You thought good was a product of the “universe” but there was a sharp, defensive edge to your goodness that made you avoid self-involvement that might lead to vulnerability. You gave just enough of yourself to be comfortable that you were good. You possessed the power to extend or withhold your goodness as you saw fit and you used it as your feelings dictated.

The Bad: A good person thrown into the jaws of Corporate America will never survive. It’s cutthroat and only the cutthroats will get ahead. The minute anyone is labeled “nice guy” they will immediately become the crash dummy and a regular speed bump for the corporate bus. The good person in a relationship always gets trashed. They’re no fun, they’re weak and probably too pampered by their parents. The good person in a competition is a bore. They run a boring race; too basic; too fundamental; too honest. They don’t stand a chance in a world where a morning punch-in-the-face is business as usual. Being good is no defense against the bad in this world.

The Perfect: Enter salvation and good meets perfection! We are grafted into the body of the most perfect. Our standard of behavior is no longer driven by the perceptions of other people or the culture of the groups we were involuntarily grafted into. After trials and learning and bending and molding and praying, and rejecting the cynicism of the, “it’s bad to be good” philosophy, we must finally hand over our remote control for good, to a good Father and allow the good to be magnified by the Source of all good. Then the good becomes real good; uncomplicated by personality or attitude. Good old fashioned good with no strings attached; no ulterior motives. Good God! Our good is the by-product of God’s perfection. It isn’t a chore or an accomplishment. We don’t do good, we become good; perfect even: the image of Christ.

The Word issues an outright challenge to the human profile of a “good person”. It requires us to disregard the norms and habits of the outside world. “For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so? Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect” Matthew 5:46-48 (NKJV).
To be compared to a tax collector is to be compared to an outsider, a traitor or even a thief. And yet, even the outcast loves his own and apparently even they, believed themselves to be good.
But good is not easy. In fact it’s impossible without God. If we are doing good in the same manner as the world around us, we are probably gritting our teeth and grinding it out on a quest for comfort in a setting that is completely unnatural. God has the controls to our goodness.

When I find myself thinking about my goodness, I’ve usually done something that wasn’t!