Heeding Hope and Health Part 1

August 31

It has been an "interesting" year. I have been up and down, in the valley and on the mountain top. Through it all the one constant has been the unwavering "knowing" of Adonia.

ADONIA "Master, Lord, LORD"

As all things seem to crumble, my Lord has never shown a sign of weakening and thus my foundation has never been cracked or worn. This is a constant comfort and provides the stability that is so often allusive.

I tend to place things on top of the foundation -false flooring, cozy carpets, stone tile of various kinds- all of which look very nice and often gain me complements, yet they are not the foundation. They will be the things I walk on and as I walk this path they change the sound of my footsteps. As I gave this more thought it struck me that in decorating my foundation I inadvertently change the sound of God's voice. I no longer hear the simple sound of my feet on foundation.

No, I have added that which changes, muffles and distorts sound. Every piece of flooring or furniture now keeps the sound of the foundation from resounding as I walk. Soon I begin to imagine that the decorative things which I have added are the foundation that supports my feet.

It is then that the true master of the house rises from the floor, near the corner where I had "assigned" him to work. He begins to critique my work, but in the process begins to remove the decoration -pointing out my sloppy and inconsistent work- work marked by a general lack of skill.

I am at first offended then embarrassed and finally relieved. So relieved that a master craftsman has taken over a job in which I was way over my head. I am startled by how much needs to be removed. I thought some of my work could survive the critique. Here at the point of having everything stripped bare I begin to pace -and trip over the remnants of my beautiful work- discarded pieces lay strewn across the floor.

I become frantic -running around snatching pieces up. They must be tossed out.

To the trash! To the trash!

There must be no evidence that I ever tried to do this on my own and failed -as I run, stumble and fall.

My stumbling blocks are the various pretty pieces that once adorned my foundation. I am now on my knees -where I get a better view. A better response to the stumbling block is dropping to hands and knees -to begin to move along the foundation with the Master craftsman.

From here I can see a once unnoticed beauty of what he had already etched and stained into the solid form at the time of it's pouring out. It is overwhelming in it's simple complexity -craftsmanship which could only be accomplished by planning long before the foundation was laid.

I no longer cling to the trash bag. It is clear that now is not the time for clean up -even as others yell at me to get my "stuff" together, get the mess cleaned up and get back on my feet. No, now is the time for ripping up and taring out. Everything I've added must be removed. Some of it will not be thrown in the trash but moved to hang on the walls as simple decorations, pictures of what has taken place on this journey. They are not ever to be confused with the foundation, as they do not hold weight. They are instead held up by the nails.

I move to the corner not in retreat - not running as some would claim. I simply had to relinquish any claim to the center. From the my spot in the corner I watch my Lord work. He reveals more and more foundation, and more and more wondrous beauty. Now I understand the urge to kiss the ground I walk on. That ground is holy and not of me...

... and as all things I've built seem to crumble, my Lord has never shown a sign of weakening and thus my foundation has never been cracked or worn. This is a constant comfort and provides the stability that is so often allusive.


So today I am sitting and wondering, pondering -1 Samuel 15:22
"...To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams."
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(I alluded many Bible passages today. Please feel free to comment with references and add more that come to heart)
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Stages

As a Christian people expect you to grieve a certain way. To respond and then move on.

Mourning is an interesting process, at least I have told people that and been told that myself.

But what is a process with out order? If this has order I don't see it.

It isn't chaos either, but it seems to get harder when you know all standard the answers.

Knowing the answers means no new bit. No new nugget of truth to brighten the day so you must cling to the truth already known.

People try to express understanding, but it's hard because we can't really know where someone is at.

This is why we take what comfort we can from a sympathetic high priest.

So how do you go through the stages of grief, when you know the answers and people just want you to go back to normal?

Denial- How do you deny something you know so well to be true, to be reality. It's hard to ignore something like a huge hole in your heart, yet you know that if God didn't fill it that it would have emptied long ago

Guilt- Why should I feel guilt if I said what I needed to say before it was to late, and I'm forgiven anyway.

Anger- What if you refuse to be angry? How would you justify anger at the one who holds life in His hands and gives eternal life to the dead. You could rage against the curse of sin, but the best way to be angry at sin is to give it the silent treatment.

Bargain-How do you bargain with God if you habitually give him everything everyday? You would have to think you have something that He needs or wants, but he already has everything and all you have is cast on Him because you can't carry the weight.

Depression- What if you are constantly reminded of your blessings? How do you spiral into depression when your are surrounded by the hugs and laughter of your little blessings everyday, and when people care so much.

Acceptance- I can't even right about this. I don't understand it. As a Christian I don't have to accept it because God provided a way of escape. That's the point. This is why we really want our friends and family to know Jesus Christ, so that we don't have to accept that they're gone forever. Because their not.

All I need is a little distraction from the empty sounds. He was such a huge voice in my life.

I want to hear him still, but there is much talking, so much noise.

I want a break down. I want loose myself. I just don't see it in me.

How do you restart a life that never got a chance to stop.?

Why do people want to stop the pain that lets me know how much I truly loved?

Where can I go.....? ...God you are there already!

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