right and wrong

Right and wrong.

Right..."I'm right and you're wrong," feels so good, so successful, so winning, so accomplished.
Right feels right, how it's supposed to be, meant to be, designed to be.
Right gets glory, faces applause, gains popularity,
Right opens doors and drives opportunity,
Right is backed-by-the-law, understood-by-man, and upheld by God.
Right.

Right?

And wrong, well it's just plain wrong.
Wrong is immoral, it's heinous, it's ugly, it's contemptible, it's rejected, it's scoffed at,
it's the worst place to be,
it's unmatched,
incongruent,
it's laughed at,
it's uncomfortable,
it's bitter and deviant and evil,
it's punished.
Wrong.

Wrong?

Right and wrong; issues of justice, matters of fairness, lyric of life and death,
Right and wrong batter us, shake us, tempt and twist us, they taunt, they question, they plant seeds of doubt, they create denial, spread the poison of deceit, they condemn us.
Right and wrong are parents to guide us, instruct us, shame us, and punish us.
Right and wrong means blame has a place and blame is the ultimate deception.
Blame demands there be a reason why and why fights against faith. Blame is the slanderous little sister who whispers half-truths, emboldens bad behavior, and accuses others, empowering you and your rightness.

Right and wrong run against a call, a command, an invitation to live by faith because in the forum of faith, trust and obedience are the tools, the weapons, the skills, the means by which to live.

In the life of faith, God is bringing us into a relationship based on trust, not on right and wrong.  And when things go wrong, or seem to be right, the only way to know truth is to call upon God, to listen, and to obey. So often, we long for rightness, we dismiss wrongness and we confuse our works, our actions as the language by which faith is redeemed.  It has nothing to do with us, and it has everything to do with trust in God and with obedience to His Word.

The Word always was.
The Word always is.
The Word will always be.

Do you trust God enough to carry you through life?
Do you follow God closely enough to believe He knows the best course?
Do you obey God even when what He asks seems impossible,
seems improbable, seems, well, it seems wrong?

Wrong in the context of that's not how it's supposed to be; that's not how it's supposed to feel. And blame partners with wrong to give ammunition, to fuel the fire, to strengthen to fight against faith.  That's not the formula for success, instead it seems to be the recipe for defeat, right?

Do you realize that God doesn't care what you or I deem as a right way or a wrong way,
what He desires,
what He long for is an obedient heart?

When we get beyond
ourselves,
our definitions,
our qualifications of how to live and we trust,
that's when we find faith,
that's when we find peace,
that's when we find unconditional love carrying us through.

God is bigger than right and wrong.
God is stronger than choice and consequence.
He is infinitely more powerful and exponentially more brilliant,
He is.

Calling me back

You're calling me back,
back to a time
where the journey was uncertain,
where the place was unknown.

You're beckoning me to
remember
a moment,
a season,
a movement
in my life when all
I could do was
trust you.

You're reminding me of a
promise to never leave me
or forsake me,
urging me to remember
a commitment to be bigger
than me.

You're reaching out to me to
walk in your shoes,
to speak what you call me to say,
to share what you urge me to tell.

You're humbly reminding me
that you are you, and i am not.
That your ways are not my ways,
that your thoughts are not my thoughts,
you're insisting that i do not belong here,
ultimately, eventually, eternally,
i am part of something more.

You're asking me
to have courage,
to trust,
to obey

You're loving me in the way
that only you can love,
you're holding me in your arms,
carving my name in your hand,
collecting my tears as they fall,
and strengthening me to do this thing;
to share my story,
to give life to my words,
and to give breath to my tale,

and i hear you,
i trust you,
i love you

temporary and eternity

this fight, this test,
this pain, this mess,
it's only temporary

it feels so big,
so strong,
intense,
it's only temporary

this loss, this shock,
this time, this wreck,
it's only temporary

Yet,
what we suffer now
is
nothing
compared to the glory
he will 
reveal
to us later.

Romans 8:18

this joy, this rage,
this run, this page
it's only temporary

this peace, this hope
this promise, this rope
is offered
to all
and is filled with
eternity

preparation

coming in waves; relentless and continual
there's no letting up, not yet
big, breathless
pacing

preparation stalks my mind,
teases my soul,
haunts my heart,

it's the constant,
the jealous lover,
vying for attention,
being consumed,
every moment leading up to this.

it's exhilarating and exhausting,
that humble place of mercy and weakness,
when I know what I do,
what I seek,
what I hope,
can only be accomplished by God alone.

it takes bravery to live,
it takes courage to dream,
it takes passion to believe,
and it takes faith to see

what will be.

collision

it's that moment of
collision
when what's beginning has
ended
and what was is completed

emotions swirl
i don't know how to feel
and i feel
everything

exhaustion
sadness
exhilaration
satisfied
envious
devalued
full
shaky-spirit-intervention
in awe
humble
petty
weary
human

i feel so human

how am i supposed to be?
again, i ask,

Father,
fill my heart,
change my heart,
show me how to be

loving is hard,
forgiving harder still

words inadequate
spirit stirring
oh, so tired

just be.
rest.
retreat.
renew, heal, refill,

and

give again, until emptied,
this is transformation

improv

So, my son and I are driving down a quiet, neighborhood street,
when he notices a garage door is left open, the light is on, and the back door to the garage is yawning wide.


Pondering, he considers what may have happened.

So, I say, "maybe the driver came home from work and forgot the laundry hanging on the clothesline, and sprinted toward the backyard."

He says, "well, I think the driver spotted the rare woodpecker that was seen in Shoreview and he's running to the backyard to observe it."

"No, that can't be," I say.  "I think it's a homeowner who was being chased by a neighbor who is always playing practical jokes and he's run to the backyard to retaliate before being hit by a paint ball."

"Uh huh, Mom," he retorts, "the person sees Mitt Romney skydive down and land in his backyard and he wants to talk."

Bursting out laughing, I continue to drive on my way with my son to his den meeting for Boy Scouts.

Conversation.  Have some!