Modern-day Mystic

Name:
Location: Fredericksburg, Texas, United States

Monday, November 27, 2006

To surrender or to submit

Most people would say that they are essentially the same word. But I'm a words person, and I know that they are clearly not the same word. It is, unfortunately, the subtlest difference in the meanings that creates the dilemma for me. To surrender implies a military defeat, you give up or give in because you have been vanquished by a superior force, but only after giving it your best shot first. To submit has quite a different spin on it, it is a willingness to lay aside power and control, in deference to another, not because you have to, but because you desire to. Maybe I'm splitting hairs, or making too big a deal out of this, but it is where my heart is.

Am I willing to surrender to God only after I've exhausted myself trying to fight against him? This is the case most of the time, I throw fits and temper tantrums, and kick and scream, until I finally just pass out, and say "Ok, daddy" with a pout. And the truth of the matter is I act very much like a child a lot of the time, for all my "maturity" and being "old for my age". And I know it's time for me to grow up, "but I don't wanna".

To submit, is a mature choice. To realize that I need to lay aside my rights, my privileges, my desires for another's. To accept that when I'm told no it's not so that I can't have any fun. I don't like to be told no. And I really hate to admit that it's right. I fought so hard to get my independence, to be able to decide what to do, and when to do it. Now I'm being asked to submit to another's authority, and I'm chaffing and trying desperately not to pitch a fit. I want to be grown-up already. It's frustrating. I'm in a no win situation.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Walls

I wrote this a year and a half ago. But the words are truer than ever. It appears something change really slowly.

Walls I built
I’ve forgotten why
To keep the world out
And stones were placed
Instead of faith
Hiding all my doubt
From evil eyes
And wagging tongues
Who’d hurt me if they could
Silence replaced the safety
Of my towering cliffs
Leaving me alone
In the self-created abyss
Yet higher still the rocks
They pile
Protecting me from you
Ensuring you can’t hurt me now
And never, ever will
Fortresses of rock
Locked me deep inside
A prisoner I’ve become
To my sacred pride

Walls I’ve built
Now I know why
It was to keep you out
And stones were placed
Instead of faith
Hiding all my fear
From caring eyes
And loving arms
Who’d hold me if they could
Be allowed to touch me
To spring me from my trap
Placing me inside
Mercy’s grace-filled lap

Lord free me
From the dungeon
My fear has built for me
Come in and be my rescuer
Remove myself from me
Tear down the walls I’ve built
So solid and secure
Undo every stone I’ve place
To make a bridge toward you
Carry me across
The chasm O so deep
And teach me once for all
Not to look before I leap.

- June 12th, 2005

Friday, November 24, 2006

Return me to the Desert

Return me to the Desert
to that lonely, long dark Night
when every single moment
took an eternity to fight a losing fight

Return me to the Desert
where transformation began
lead me to the wilderness
with firm and tender hand

Return me to the Desert
to the empty abyss
until I've learned the lesson
He must become more, I less

Return me to the Desert
despite my fearful cry
abandon me to myself
till I will "come & die"

Return me to the Desert
of silence and doubts
I know going in
I'll be better coming out

Return me to the Desert
where prophets come undone
even where the devil
tested your very own Son

Return me to the Desert
the one place more
than any other
I do not wish to be

Lord, return me to the Desert
Out of my captivity.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I finally give up

I've had enough of my own will. I realized on the 10 hour drive that when an iron will is bent against itself all it manages to do is sharpen itself till it cuts anyone who comes near. And I realize now that there is not a blessed thing I can do about my stubbornness, any thing I try will only give more power and resolve to my will. So I give up, God help me, I know that he's the only one who can. I don't want to be broken, because I know it will be painful, but not being broken is even worse because it means my wounds will only fester underneath my masks.

*This is my confession, don't read it if you don't care*

I'm tired of pretending I know what's going on all the time, and that I have everything perfectly under control. I'm tired of climbing into the box of perfectionism and being the "super-Christian" everyone (including me) expects me to be. I'm tired of using boxes to push other people away. I'm a mess right now, I have deep hurts that go back so far I don't even know when I received them, or that I'd even been hurt, and each layer is pulled back to reveal even deeper hurts. I have demons that oppress (not possess, that is an impossibility) me because I allow them to, because I've grown comfortable with their company, believing their lies. I'm tired of being general manager of my universe, which is falling apart around me, because I'm not powerful enough to hold it all together. I'm tired of pushing away people who get too close to me, close enough to actually see the scars on my heart, and who aren't content to let them stay there. I'm tired of reaching out for God with one hand, and pushing him away with the other. I'm tired of doubting his love, and his goodness, his ability and willingness to forgive a sinner such as me. I'm tired of leaning on my own frail faith. I'm terrified that I'll be returned to the desert and I'll be destroyed there, that some how I would get lost in the valley of the shadow, trapped wandering in an endless dark wilderness. I'm afraid that I'll lose hope. I'm afraid that I'll fail, that God will ask something of me, will give me some responsibility, and because of where I am, I will utterly fail. And even as I write these I recognize them as lies that I have given power over my life. Only one question really remains for me to answer, it's Jesus' question to the man who had been paralyzed for 38 years, "Do you want to get well?" Dear God, yes I want to be made well, not just healed. Have your way with me, I surrender myself to you will, do with me as you desire, even if it means destroying me in the process. I don't want to live any longer, I only long for Christ to live in me. Create me in a clean heart, O God. It's time...

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Daddy's Hands

This song was sung in chapel today. Based on where I am right now in the healing process I feel like sharing the lyrics. I'm dedicating this to both my fathers, who each loved me the best that they knew how.


"I remember Daddy´s hands, folded silently in prayer.
And reaching out to hold me, when I had a nightmare.
You could read quite a story, in the callouses and lines.
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.I

remember Daddy´s hands, how they held my Mama tight,
And patted my back, for something done right.
There are things that I´ve forgotten, that I loved about the man,
But I´ll always remember the love in Daddy´s hands.

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I´ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.

I remember Daddy´s hands, working 'til they bled.
Sacrificed unselfishly, just to keep us all fed.
If I could do things over, I´d live my life again.
And never take for granted the love in Daddy´s hands.

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I´ve come to understand.
There was always love in Daddy´s hands.

Daddy's hands were soft and kind when I was cryin´.
Daddy´s hands, were hard as steel when I´d done wrong.
Daddy´s hands, weren´t always gentle
But I´ve come to understand.
There was always love...In Daddy´s hands."
- Holly Dunn

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Healing

Why does it always seem like
the healing hurts more
than the initial pain?

Why are the wounds
that lie the deepest
the ones hardest to heal?

Why is pain inflicted
by those who
claim they care?

And why do I harbor
my deepest pains
when healing is already offered?

Why won't I trust
the only One capable
of healing me completely?

My faith is just too small
to let the Healer in
I know I am afraid
that I'll be hurt again.

So I'm asking now
my Father
please be tender in your healing
you're holding the heart of me.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

An Unfair Box

At best it is unseemly
At worst, an impossibility
A woman simply does not belong
In Christian ministry

I’ve heard the refrain
In all the different strains
It’s to the point that the lie
Is hardwired in my brain

I don’t belong with men
Who call upon the Lord
I should stay at home
Be quiet and submit

Part of me was lost
When I allowed them
To tell me
Who it is that I should be

Instead of listening
For the small voice
Who said,
“My daughter, look at me.”

To be fragmented
Is not what I deserved
The unity of my person
May yet still be preserved

I am a woman
That is one half of me
The other half is just as valid
God gave them both to me

I am a minister
Of the Gospel of Peace
Though at war
With those who would

Deny me my place
At odds
With those who try to box me
Where I am not to be

There is no dilemma
I am worthy of
Both ministry
And femininity
Because that is who God made me to be

I refuse to deny either half of me