Blowing the Whistle

Thirty minutes

We were instructed to ensure our blindfolds were positioned so that we could not see: no cheating. We were also told to refrain from speaking with one another; but making the statement "I need help" was subtly encouraged. To complete the task, we had thirty minutes to find our way out. Next, we were led by the hand to a rope, which was our only means of guidance. Finding out seemed a simple endeavour, assuming in, started where hand met said rope. Follow the stringed thing to its end, and voila, you have exited the invisible matrix. 

Opposite direction

Except it really wasn't that simple once the exercise started, because as I made my way forward, I encountered another participant almost immediately, travelling in the opposite direction. As we awkwardly made our way around one another, I became slightly confused: if I had started at the entrance of this maze, how was it that the person I ran into, wasn't going my way to get out? This happened repeatedly with other participants, and as time passed, I heard quiet voices, say, "I need help", or something along those lines. I didn't though, need help. I wasn't going to ask for it, nor had it crossed my mind. I was going to find my way to the end of the rope, and exit with confidence. 

Escaping the maze

As I slowly moved forward, I encountered a whistle dangling from the rope. Feeling it and realizing what it was, I had what I thought was an epiphany: this whole experience was a metaphor of sorts! I had passed so many people along the rope, some going my way, some the other, and it seemed like an endless, impossible place to leave. I took hold of that metaphorical and real life whistle, and began making some noise. The sharp ear piecing sound rang out in short, and then much longer repeated spurts. As some of my favourite people came close along that rope, I clung to them, holding them to me. They allowed this, for a time: wordlessly but noisily, I tried to communicate, it's the whistle, the whistle is the way out! I have the answer, the solution to escaping the maze puzzle. As they one-by-one, unwrapped from my grasp, I blew that whistle fervently, feverishly, until I was all alone on that rope, weeping. 

If they only knew

My thought was that if they only knew the answer like I did, they wouldn't leave me; we would cling to one another and the solution, ending the event so we could finally exit. In my desperation, the piercing scream of the whistle reverberated in that quiet space, filling the ears of the people I could not see. My blindfold, when I removed it after the exercise, was soaked with my plaintive tears ... 

Finally, I felt gentle hands on mine, instructing me softly to let go of the whistle, telling me "It's ok Linda, just ask for help." The thought makes me weepy as I type. I didn't want help, I wanted out on my own. I wanted people to hear the whistle calling them, alarming them to the solution to our mutual problem of being trapped. The gentle hands pried the whistle from mine, and as I let go and spoke the words, "I need help", exhaustion and defeat washed over me. I was led "out", and told that I was the last participant to exit, at the twenty-eight minute mark.

Matrix like madness 

I wept bitterly later that night, knowing that I had tried to save others with my solution, one that held them to my perspective, my way out. It took me a long time to ask for help, and that only happened after much stubborn whistle blowing. As I consider this momentous event in my life from almost eight years ago, I see it differently than I did back then. I know the whistle is symbolic to me, and represents who I am. I do not blow a whistle, I blow a trumpet, often, loudly, hopefully, with fervour, with passion, with desire to have others know the Only Answer to exiting this matrix like madness we are all living through. 

Instrument of warning

The people in the program I attended were lovely for the most part. On the day we all first met I said as much, crying when I stated "You are all so lovely, and it breaks my heart that I won't know you in eternity." Most of them were new agers, and denied Christ as Saviour. I professed my faith that first day, and since the world lost its way and began clinging to a rope with blindfolds in place, I see that no matter what instrument of warning is used, whether whistle or trumpet, some people are deaf to the sound of a saving alarm. 

Forcing blind trust

The ones that put each of us on that rope knew what they were doing. They knew they were placing us purposefully in a position of having to ask for help to exit the maze. There was no malice in this exercise: it was used as a learning tool for the participants. But dear reader, it perfectly mimics and replicates on a micro scale, what the wicked ones have done to the masses:

• Forcing blind trust
• Minimal communication with other "participants' 
• Placing people in a confusing maze with no exit "in sight"
• Time pressure and restrictions without information for decision making
• Encountering others travelling in the opposite direction
• Directional confusion
• Discombobulation
• Having to ask for help from the ones that placed you precariously in the maze
• A whistle ... a whistle ... this part is a mystery?

Dear one, we are now at a crossroads. The whistle has been blown, and some finally hear the warning screeching in their ears. Blindfolds are being removed, and while the previously unable to see look around, their eyes are adjusting to the Light of Truth. 

No blindfold zone

I have seen far too much beauty debauched, not only at the hands of murderers, but by those that did not know that they were marching themselves to lethal injections, and taking their children along with them. Many unwittingly have fornicated with the forked of tongue, and I say this not to be clever, but to point out that each time we sin slightly, we add one more piece of damnable evidence to our faithless resume as humans. Sin is insidious and cumulative, especially when we do not address our godless inclinations. Nothing happens suddenly, progression makes far more sense, and while sense ought to be "common", it would appear we have run fresh out of it, or at least, it is in short supply. 

Repentant of heart

Sinners we are, but God just plain old LOVES the repentant of heart. He empowers whistle or trumpet blowers, because they warn others that change must happen in order to secure eternity with Him. I am reminded of God incarnate, condescending to warn us: 

From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say, 

Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand 

(Matthew 4:17)

We are in a very simple situation, dear reader. You either call out to God for help as your Sovereign, and live as though honesty, integrity, kindness, love, fidelity, faithfulness, godliness, being holy, and being like Jesus are your priorities in life, or you act like the guys and gals that forsook their souls for a shiny shiny earthly fools gold reward. You are either hedonistic or heaven bound!

Yes it is that simple, or at least, it can be. 

We each get to choose, Saviour, or satan.