Heaven Met Me Here

You blink your eyes in wonder, casting quick glances from side-to-side as an uproar fills your ears. It's like that Metallica concert back in 1998, but more...round...more full. Your ears start to tingle and the sound goes deeper. There are people. So many people. Every color. Every language. Every shape. Every size. And everyone is smiling. It looks like midday and you try to feel suffocated by the bodies pressing you from all sides, but you can't seem to manage it. You feel relief. You have the same sensation you had when you ran into your dad's arms after falling off your bike. It consumes you. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over as the chant is picked up. "Glory to the One seated on the Throne! Glory to His Name! Praise be to Him!" They're saying it in their native tongue, but you understand every word. Spanish, French, Italian, English, Portugese, Fulani, Arabic, Greek, Swahili, Mandarin, and Hebrew. It blends together to create a great chaos of joyful adoration. A wrinkled old man is stooped next to you and you notice the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. His arms are stretched upwards and as you gaze into his shining eyes, his back straightens and he stand proud and whole, shouting out his thanks. The little girl in front of you squeals in delight and you stare amazed as her left leg grows from what use to be a stump. A woman spins in circles, laughing uncontrollably as her scars are removed. A blind man sobs as he sees crimson for the first time. And the hole...that deep, despairing, life-sucking hole in the middle of your chest is being filled. You can hardly breathe as you feel worthy. You feel whole. You feel precious. A small boy tugs on your shirt and when you lean close, he whispers. "That man woke me up in the middle of the night. He told me to pray for you. I'm so glad you're standing next to me." You lift him on your shoulders and press forward. The light gets brighter and the singing grows louder. Soldiers drop to their knees, battered men lifting their faces towards the One seated. His name is shouted over and over. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Hands are joined and the circle stretches for miles and miles. A teenage girl squeezes your hand and her eyes smile into yours. "I can forgive him." she says. "Do you see him? He's here." You quickly scan the row of bodies and lock eyes with a Chinese prison guard. His bruises fade as you watch and he grins. "He beat and raped me for three years. He wanted to know why I cried out for Him. He said there was no hope. Then He gave him hope." She giggled and the dance began. The walls of heaven shook as thousands upon thousands of people danced the same rhythm, always giving glory. You see Him rise from His throne, His laughter booming across the ages. You fall to your knees as He speaks. Do you see now? Do you begin to understand the depths of my love? Are you able to comprehend your worth? He stretches out His hand and you hold on for all your worth. He spins you around and around, laughing. There is deafening applause and a clamor of cheering. You're home.

Obtaining Freedom

Freedom isn't a word I've given much thought to until recently. When it has been mentioned in the past, the only thing that came to mind was long-ago wars which were completely removed from the world I'm living in today. Take our great fight against the English "back in the day" for instance. The brows of Americans nationwide tend to crease it righteous rage as they firmly shake their fists in the air, bellowing victory chants. We were free. It not only our privilege to remember our win with patriotic pride, it hovers on duty. Our sense of accomplishment, when questioned (why is your face scrunched up almost beyond recognition when the defeat of the British is mentioned?), is vehemently defended with statements such as "...because now we're free." or "...because now we can do what we want with no tyrants." Ah. No tyrants. That begs the question of what exactly is a tyrant. Here's what Webster says. "Tyrant: an absolute ruler unrestrained by law or constitution; a ruler who exercises absolute power oppressively or brutally." Let me ask you something. Being human, have you ever let evil reign in your life? Your definition of evil may not be the same as the next person. I think evil is whatever makes your stomach recoil. It's what makes you put your head in your hands and weep when no one is looking. It's getting to the point you swore you'd never reach. For some, it's lying. For others, it's murder. Still others, it's cheating on the wife or husband. I call it sin in general, but taken to extreme: the complete saturation of sin. Lately, I've been like a sponge. Anything "bad" is getting soaked in and just when I think I can't take anymore, I do something more horrific than the last deed. For those of you familiar with the Bible, I feel like Jacob wrestling with the angel in Genesis. I've told some of you this...Jacob got out with a limp and the satisfaction that he didn't just take someone's word for it. I'm still looking in horror at the divine being standing in front of me, my mind rebelling at the thought of what I must do. I think of the sin in my life as a the tyrant. It's oppressive. It's brutal. It rules without law or constitution. I'm so far deep I can't see the dim haze of light at the entrance of the hole. I'm like baby North America right before the Revolutionary War: in the throes of unacceptable enslavement. Naturally, now that I've finally come to this conclusion, the thought of freedom thrills me and seems like a daunting accomplishment- near impossible. Freedom from these failings is to me like a starving man tasting his first steak. He rolls the bit of meat around in his mouth, simply savoring the taste and reveling in the wonder of something he thought he'd never see again. And then he eats ferociously. I want to throw my hands in the air, spinning around, basking in the free air. I want to be able to laugh out loud again. I want to smile. I want to not dread getting up in the morning. I want to giggle for the sheer joy of being alive. Tyrants don't usually step down quietly. Drastic measures need to be taken by those oppressed. A revolution is necessary. Is it any different with spiritual warfare? I can't calmly and sedately go about my regular routine and expect my outlook to improve. Change. I need to change. I need to take extreme measures to overthrow the "tyrant" in my life. It's not going to be easy. I know this. Perhaps that's why I'm so hesitant to begin the grueling march towards freedom. Is it worth it? I can unquestioningly answer that in the affirmative. But, you'll have to decide that for yourself. I have Someone who knows the ins and outs of this particular battle quite well. He's memorized the strategies of the enemy, knows when he'll strike, is familiar with my weaknesses and strengths, and also knows His own limitations- completely nonexistent. And why have I procrastinated moving forward? What stops me from putting my hand in His and walking into the light? I don't have an answer to that right now. But I do know that I should probably stop thinking and skip and jump into freedom, fighting the oppression with every weapon I have. Onward to war!

Society At Large....

It has recently come to my attention that WalMart is slowly, but surely decreasing the amount of size 18 jeans from their shelves. This could alarm some people, including myself, but I think the real question is, will this induce a nation-wide diet? If larger clothes become increasingly difficult to obtain, will that alone provoke an American Revolution unlike any we've seen before? Or will WalMart be forced to surrender it's role in the noble fight against obesity? Whether or not the lack of larger garments was meant to be on purpose or simply a coincidential shortage, I applaud their efforts- intentional or otherwise. In my opinions, Americans as a whole have come to rely heavily on happy pills and sedatives to survive the routine they themselves chose to adhere to. Let me be quite clear. I am not bashing anti-depressants, nor am I advocating herbal remedies, diet solutions, or other methods used to promote happiness and contentment. If one truly has a problem with negativity, depression, self-esteem or any other ailment that attacks the psyche, then by all means, do what you need to do to become functional. But I have to wonder if our overall lack of exercise, poor diet, and sedate lifestyle are not aggravating our apathetic mindset. I am preaching to the choir when I write this. I have, and still do, struggle with depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, suicidal thoughts at times, and even som paranoia. But I've begun to ask myself if my problems have not become worse because I chose not to take a daily walk, eat cucumbers instead of potato chips, or go out and socialize instead of sitting on the couch watching TV. I refuse to point fingers at anybody and blame myself entirely for my current way of living. How can I accuse others of not "living up to their potential" when I myself am not trying? So, here's to all of us who are battling the bulge...it may feel like an inevitable defeat, but tomorrow is always a new day!

A bad case of "what if...."

You've said it to yourself many times. It's the phrase we use when we're mentally kicking ourselves for a situation we can't go back and change. What if I just.....? What if she said.....? What if they.....? Some would rationalize their mess up. Others would shrug, casting the blame on their circumstances. Still others roll this question over and over in their minds until they can't remember how they lived before the thought, event, or spoken word which got them in to their current situation. In my mind, it all boils down to one thing: regret. It could be a missed opportunity. It could be a misunderstood sentence. In my case it was an opportunity I should have ignored, but jumped on. I knew I was in the wrong. I walked into it with eyes wide open. Here comes the rationalization....I was trying to put the shattered pieces of my life back together and this was the only glue I thought would work. I'm here to tell you that I wish I hadn't done it. I didn't feel this way immediately after I disregarded all the advice that had been handed to me since I could understand English. I think that's what alarmed me the most. I didn't regret it. I wasn't beating myself up over it. I chalked it up to societal pressures, an inapplicable set of rules, and loneliness. The deed is done however, and I am really hoping I can pick myself up and move on. It was nice to be thought of as beautiful. It was nice to have a man look at me in admiration. It gave me a sense of feminine power- something I'd never felt before. I'm not here to judge anybody. By no means! I'm just saying that I hope others can learn from my mistakes. I shall do my best to make my next post be of a "lighter" persuasion.