Fault Lines

Fault Line: a line on a rock surface or the ground that traces a geological fault; a divisive issue or difference of opinion that is likely to have serious consequences

Geological fault: a crack in the earth's crust resulting from the displacement of one side with respect to the other. 

A crack can cause division 
A crack in the earths crust... displacing one side with respect to the other. This physical fissure can be the great divide and of course dear reader, I am going in the direction of metaphor. If you and I stand on opposite sides of this crack, our toes nearing the edges, we can see how far apart we have become, how perilous looking down can be. How did this fault line appear so suddenly and why oh why, did we not see it in time, and find a way to unite, on one or the other side of the split? Our divisive opinions have serious consequences, and one of them happens to be this seemingly impossible unclose-able gap. A fault line separates us.

Finding fault
I make an obvious attempt at being clever here, dear reader... 

• Who's fault is the line that has been draw between us? 
• Who drew the line so heavily that the earth beneath it began to fall away, crumbling until it became unsafe to walk upon, unsafe to cross over? 
• Is it my fault, your fault, our fault? 
• Someone must take responsibility! 
• Do tell... is it me, or is it... you?

Cracks cause seperation

You may look but not find

The question causes me a bit of exhaustion. You may be experiencing the great divide, with fault lines running in front, in behind and in all directions your eyes happen to gaze, and you may be wondering how you got isolated with all of these cracks running jaggedly near where you stand? You are perilously poised dear one and not quite sure which way to turn. This tenuous position you find yourself in has you closing your eyes and asking... what the hell happened here? 

The person, the one that stood near and now seems so far far away, unreachable and distant, how did they get so far, and out of touch so seemingly fast? 

When I look up. When I look across. I see... what do you see dear reader, what do you see? 

Command and Control

I like the Biblical story of Noah and the ark, with animals entering two by two, male and female of each species:

And Noah went in, and his sons, and his wife, and his sons' wives with him, into the ark, because of the waters of the flood. Of clean beasts, and of beasts that are not clean, and of fowls, and of every thing that creepeth upon the earth, there went in two and two unto Noah into the ark, as God had commanded Noah (Genesis 7:7-9)

Command and control 
Mans dominion over animals was a command by God: notice, the animals came to Noah... he didn't have to go and round them up. Now look at Noah in Genesis 7:5:

And Noah did according unto all that the Lord commanded him

Command and control, they go hand in hand in this story. It just so happens that God gives commands and when we obey, He gives us control.

Next take a look at who entered the ark: husbands with their wives of the human and animal variety (if you can imagine the animal pairs as bethrothed, male and female of every kind went in two and two unto Noah into the ark

Contemplating the why part
I said I like this story, and I am contemplating the why part, where I want to go with this piece of writing. I started out thinking about my single hood, about having been a part of a pair, one male, one female. Two becoming one, in every sense of the word, and there is the culminating proof, in a child being born to the couple. 

In my case, this explains my sons existence... well kind of... I have no idea how to make hands, feet, fingers and toes, not to mention eyes that melt my heart. We made a baby, and he grew but believe me when I say, this "happened" without any effort on my part, except a whole lot of eating!

Male and female
Now back to the story. I still believe in pairs, the two by two of a male and a female. I find it curious that the ark animals, the ones that made it onto the big boat, knew to go to Noah. It feels compelling somehow: magnetic and mystifying. Noah too, felt compelled in spite of what I am confident looked mighty strange and foolish to many, until of course, the ... waters of the flood were upon the earth (Genesis 7:10).

A righteous man
Now dear reader, I will come to the why part of me liking the story. God is in command and He does, when we obey, give us control. Noah did not have to obey, he could have saved himself a whole lot of work and trouble. He could have just been a business-as-usual-kind-of-guy and ignored Gods instructions, but alas, ... Noah was a just man and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with God (Genesis 6:9). Noah's willingness to do Gods bidding saved him, his family, and every kind of creature that roamed the earth at the time. He was a rare kind of guy, to say the least!

Now, you know this writing is about you, and me, right dear reader? What kind of guy or gal are you? Have you been commanded in any way, by God? If you are not sure of the answer to this question, I recommend you read your Bible because indeed, the answers are there for you to quickly and easily discover. 

You may not like the answers but well, your relationship with God is at stake, so perhaps you can consider Gods commands as a form of saving grace, keeping you from being swept away by an immoral flood tide?

It's not a match made in heaven, unless...
I am single. In a world that does not like to see people as single, solo acts, there is a great deal of pressure to become a pair, regardless of a match: it would appear, almost any match will do, according to societal edicts and sometimes, someone is better than no one, can rule a persons lonely heart. Not mine, dear reader... I have been commanded thusly:

But if the unbeliever depart, let him depart. A bother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases: but God hath called us to peace 

(1 Corinthians 7:15)

Two by two

The purrrfect pair

I belong to the Lord Jesus Christ. I am not bound in marriage any longer, but I have been commanded, and this gives me much control dear one, and it does you too. 

The two by two is a God thing. The mating is a God design. The pairing is according to His will, not mine, not yours. He chooses partners for us and when he does the pair picking, the selecting, the match is always perfect. I sure do hope this gives you cause for pause. 

Wait on Him dear reader. You don't have to hurry or worry: if you have desire in your heart to have a partner in life, it is because He placed it there: He will also put the purrrfect man or woman right next to you so you can walk side by side, just as He commands. 

Aliens

I jest

I never thought this day would come but it has dear reader. I am wondering how I denied it all before and now, I must confess... I believe... in aliens. These creatures are everywhere and can be observed at your own breakfast table or next to you as you drive across town to the mall. Open your eyes and take a look around you, can you see them? Glance in the mirror and oh my gosh, you see one there too! I jest, of course, but I am curious about some things and I am willing to investigate them, play my imagination out here, with you.

Talkers
I was riding my bike through the park yesterday and approached two young women walking their dogs. One woman was speaking and I observed the other, looking in her direction and nodding. I went around them and carried on, thinking, man alive, that girl sure can talk and her friend is a captive (perhaps even captivated, audience). Next, I observed a woman seated on a park bench with her phone held in front of her face, listening to a female who happened to be on speaker. I could clearly hear her advising "you need to think of yourself" as she babbled without taking a breath.

Judgemental 
My thoughts, you ask? My thought was that there was a lopsidedness to these exchanges. There was a taking advantage happening as the talkers held the floor endlessly while their companions listened intently and generously. If you think I am being judgemental, so be it... you may be very right on this front, but despite your judgement of my judgemental-ness, I will carry on and make my point, since I am the writer and you are the reader (can you see now how imbalances can occur, dear one?).

Listeners

How attuned are you as a listener?

Back to the ladies. I made it to the end of the path I was on and turned back. I had an intuitive moment where I wondered if as I passed these ladies again, the talkers would still be talking and the listeners would still be listening. What do you think? Was there a time and interest sharing happening? Did the talker open the floor to the possibility of paying full undivided attention to their companion? Are you like me, suspecting that the listeners would still be enduring politely while the talkers, carried on without noticing, as though they were in their own little world of self-absorption, with true interaction being an alien concept to them?

As I approached the lady on the bench, she had freeze framed, holding the position I had seen her in moments before. She was holding the phone in front of her face, elbow supported for the long haul: she was still listening. It took me time on the path to get to the next pair, the young women. There too, nothing had changed, except for the direction they were traveling. The talker was still talking, and the listener was still paying homage. 

Dear reader, which one are you? I am embarrassed to admit that I can be that talky person, the one that carries on... I can also be the listening one, that wishes the other person would notice that there is someone in their presence, being bombarded with words. My point, you ask?

Interacting electrically
Is there room for a good old fashioned back and forth? I speak, you notice what I mean and comment on precisely that. From your comments, I see a highlight, there is an intriguing idea, and from there, I respond to something that came precisely from your mouth and mind... playing off of one another with ears attuned to opportunities to interact electrically. 

I have experienced this and it is glorious. When I get self-absorbed, I get disconnected and miss the back and forth firing playmate fun. Can you relate? My point now, is this: paying attention to one another is elemental in relationship. It is in reciprocal exchanges, that both parties benefit and feel great satisfaction in the sharing.

My current commitment 
I am going to practice these skills today: listening, noticing, acknowledging others, speaking from understanding and not from I. Care to join me, dear one?

Let the brilliant sparks fly

Excruciating

What images or sentiments does the word excruciating conjure for you dear reader?

Forever a tableau
I recall the day my father died. The scene grips me, forever a tableau in my memory; stills, shot by my minds eye, captured to haunt me and have me face reality as it is and not how I would like it to be. What if I pretended to be blind? What if I was blind, to reality? Could I possibly change what I saw, what I knew to be true? Could I erase history and make it different somehow, form new captured images, and undo the death scenes, the ones that I know happened that changed my future? I weep now, knowing that no matter how hard I might try, no matter what images I prefer, I cannot change the ones that were, and the ones that are... there is evidence everywhere of what is and I must, of necessity and for my soulful well being, accept   (this sentence cannot end with a period: acceptance is an on going, never ending story dear one)

Death and Divorce
Here, I will give you the whole enchilada, for our clarity, yours and mine. My marriage is broken, seemingly irreparable. This is excruciating. "They" say, divorce is like death but far worse. I hate to agree but I must. The only way I could accept my fathers death was to recall him lying dead, with tubes protruding from him, evidence that there had been extraordinary measures taken to keep his body from expiring, from giving up on this world, this life. 

My marriage, it is in the throws of death, and it would appear that no extraordinary measures have been taken to rescue it from deaths grip, at least, none that can be seen, by human eyes. I have prayed dear one, I have been on my knees without ceasing but alas, some things are not to be. I have still shots of this too, the remember whens, the good, the bad, and the proverbial ugly. Mostly, I have to face what is, knowing I cannot retrieve, pull back, grab hold of someone, who has let go of me, of us. 

Death in its wake

The difference between death and divorce, is choice. It is similar but I can say with confidence, that it is incomparable in too many ways to count. Divorce without extraordinary measures to prevent its happening, is murderous. It kills relationship and leaves death in its wake. Relationships that had forever stamped on them become things that slowly rot with a fowl distasteful odour.

Middle ground mud

Free will: a gift from God

You will not get a solution, resolution, how-to-plan here. You are getting the snap shot reality that I face, that I live. I am not alone in this murky middle ground mud: many stand with me, in the thick of it. My solace is in Christ. My comfort is in the knowing that to love like Him, means to feel the pain of rejection, and the sting of witnessing death, accompanied by the excruciating pain of being incapable of asking someone to turn back and walk toward, rather than away. We cannot choose for one another: this is the gift of freedom of will and I would not have it any other way.

My solace... is in Christ Jesus wept (John 11:35)

These words, they are balm to my soul. They tell us that Jesus knew, and knows, how grievous separation and physical loss can be.

He weeps when we do 

Sculpted

God put me in your life

"God didn't just put you in my life... He put me in yours" John Doan, coach, photographer, friend extraordinaire. These words flooded my heart at just the right moment. Have you experienced this dear reader, a gift, wrapped in love, handed generously, surprisingly, breathtakingly to you completely "out of the blue"? Its not my birthday but I do want to buy a commemorative cake and celebrate being loved, valued, thought of and told that I matter. This is what you crave too, isn't it dear reader? A delicious reminder of who you are to others, how you are perceived and maybe even, how their is a reciprocal relationship, a back and forth blessing?

God's pottery wheel

How are you being shaped?

"You and I and others are on God's pottery wheel... And we shape each other, right?" More words of wonder from my close friend, John Doan. The imagery has me thinking: what shape are you and I in dear reader? God has one design, and we can be seen and known to misguidedly misshape one another, isn't that so? But alas, it is in true friendship that we are not only shaped, we are sculpted, refined, given our definition and elegant qualities of craftsmanship. John Doan carefully took a chisel and added detail to this clay pot and because I trust him, because love is real and shared between us, I gratefully accept the new me that he is helping to reshape.

Admiring artistry

I have always admired artisans and their brilliant ability to capture imagination and create a masterpiece. We can do this too, dear reader. Each time we think of someone with fondness we have the option of taking out our verbal fountain pen, to deliver a message that ignites a flame in them that perhaps, had almost gone out for lack of fanning. Isn't it astounding how flames lick wood and colour the fire blue and yellow? This is what we can do for another, light a match to their wood-be-fire (no spelling error here), colouring them brightly.

Today I glow with appreciation for all my fire starter friends. They bless me and remind me that it is in Gods image we are created. We are on his potters wheel and because he wants us to be just like him, we too, shape one another... I am being molded in the image of Christ by God, through friends like John Doan.

It is a good life. 

Complimenting vs Confession

Defining moments
We all have defining moments in our lives. Perhaps you hear a phrase, and there is a ding that goes off in your head: you pause and say ahh, that's it, as good or common sense, acts like a clarifying solution, clearing up a muddled part of you. This is what having a relationship with Christ is like for me. I get muddled, I seek clarification, I go to the Master and ask for a solution, and the clearing of muddled me begins.

Kool-aid king or real thing?
Lots of people believe in Jesus. Many acknowledge His place in history. It is rare and fool hardy for someone to deny His existence, since there is far too much evidence affirming who He is in time. Some call Him a prophet, and others a wise teacher, comparing Him with other religious leaders from the past. He is undeniably someone to contend with and complimenting him on his humanistic achievements seems apropos in a world that tolerates, well, everything. 

We are watered down in our thinking, and being, and Jesus is just one more pickable Kool-aid to consume from the multipacks available at your local cosmic grocery store. Any God, choose your flavour, will do: there is something for everyone, including a would be saviour of the world.

He said I AM
Forgive me dear reader, as I struggle with the reality I witness daily while people all around me deny deity. Complimenting Jesus rather than confessing Him as the King of kings, Lord of lords, is a challenging truth that His disciples witness, and with hope in our hearts, endure.

He said He is I AM... we as a populace, say no, you are not, I AM... and the battle rages on. At times, I am cuttingly impolite. I am definitely not politically correct. I am also, lovingly honest, and loyal: I risk all, for Christ, because He is worthy of devoted praise, and He bought me, and you, at great cost. The blood of the lamb washes me sparkling white... figure that one out dear reader and perhaps, you and I will have a defining moment together?

Direction determines destination

Do you compliment Him, as just one more would-be-God or do you confess Him as your God, your Saviour, your Redeemer? Are you your own king, your own god, going your own way, or do you know The One who is The Way?

An echoed confession
Christ defines who I am. I bow down in reverence and dare not compare Him as though He were on par with his human creations.

'Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"' (John 11:25-26). While I will not compare or compliment Jesus, I can, and do, echo a confession from Martha in response to His statement and question:

Yes, Lord, she told him, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world (John 11:27). 

So here we have it: Do you, believe? It is one thing to compliment Christ as an option, but an entirely different reality when you confess Him as the Son of God and obey His commands for you, and for all who seek Him, and live according to His will. It isn't the easiest life: believe me, this I know. But I wouldn't want to live any other way.

Perhaps, your defining moment 
For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain (Philippians 1:21). You can only understand these sayings by going to Him, confessing Him as the great I AM, as Martha did, as millions through the millennia have done, and as I do, here and now before you.

You must first believe HIM. I ask you again, do you, believe?

Holy Hermit

Traveling the realms
From the upper room to the basement, on the main floor and out the door. These words were written on my mind, and then spoken to my son when I returned home from a walk. I explained to him the prophetic meaning: that he had traveled to heavenly heights, been pulled into the basement of despair, was being prepared for the main floor of life in this world and that he had yet, to walk out of the front door: a reentry as a citizen, not of this world but of Gods Kingdom.

Competing voices, which one is Gods
My son had been away, on a sojourn of sorts: a mental, emotional, spiritual, physical removal from what is normal, average, mediocre and considered "safe" in the world. He went away temporarily and then, miraculously, he came home.

As I type, I see that while the house we occupy in our bodies served as a haven physically, this is not the home he craved or sought. He had come home so that he could freely travel the inner worlds. He needed time in a sanctuary, alone, isolated, dedicated to understanding himself, his reason for being and ultimately, to hear past the competing voices, the ones that loudly shout at each of us from outside of ourselves and echo their refrain in our minds. He needed to hear Gods voice... in the still, the deafening quiet, the seclusion of body and soul. He was not well and he needed the healing balm, of home. He became a Holy Hermit.

A moms desperate plea
My son was not himself. It was obvious, observable, distractingly disturbing at times. There were places he had seen in his mind, in his spirit: at first glance, it appeared he was irretrievable. I could not go in and get him. I could not enter the world he occupied. He had gone in alone, or so it seemed, and no one had the secret pass code, the wink and a nod magic, the membership handshake that permitted entry. In my weakened state, I was at times desperate and wept, face to the ground, pleading with God to pluck my son from the edge, the precipice. Over and over again I heard this scriptural refrain, spoken by Jesus:

And he said unto them, This kind can come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting (Mark 9:29)

And so I did, I prayed. I prayed day and night. I prayed desperately, hopefully, sorrowfully, joyfully, quietly, loudly, while weeping and singing and shouting and whispering. In my weakness I was brought low, down upon my knees and it was then and always is, dear reader, that God becomes our strength, our answer.

God enters into secret places

Heavenly Heights, a great view

God is the secret pass code, the wink and nod magic. My son was not alone and never had been. He traveled the universe, the heights of heaven and the depths of despair and was redeemed, retrieved by The One and only Original King that grants membership to those who wish to enter into His kingdom. My son, he is sound, of mind, body and spirit, fortified in his faith. He works, he relates, he contributes to the household and he is no longer held captive. He is free, in Christ. 

The healing has been sealed: a friend taught me this recently.

My living hell was real
This all may sound neat and clean, trite and simple. It is not and was not. My living hell was real. Parents can never separate themselves from their child's pain and suffering. It is an impossibility. Which is why we must look to the Father, and his Son. The love that is painfully undeniable when there is separation:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:16)

While I watched, I had to give my son up, over and over again, to our faithful loving Father in heaven. He knows what to do when we don't. All that was and is still, required of me, is to pray. The promise, the prophetic answer, is that God can, and will, do the rest: and He has.