Sand and Soul

Going With The Flow

Imagine a pile of sand.

Slowly pour water onto the sand. What happens?

The water builds up, but then starts to flow away. As it flows, the water finds the path easier and easier to follow and will continue along the path that it has created. Eventually, the water will carry away the sand and solidify the forged path. Future water will walk the same trail as the pioneer water before them.

Your thought patterns work in a very similar fashion.

As a child, you were exposed to ideas, beliefs, and experiences. As your brain sought to process these things, thought began to flow in various directions. Like the water.

Regardless of accuracy, the thought pattern developed; eventually carving the path for the filter by which you would understand the world.

Crazy right?!

Here is a real life example.

"I Hate Myself"

No, seriously. I do.

Some time ago, I developed this thought pattern. Experiences and how I interpreted what I was being told led to the conclusion that I am a bad person-a broken person.

Then my thoughts took other paths, leading to the conclusion that I was unintelligent, ugly, boring, and unlovable.

"Everyone hates me" became a regular conclusion in my life.

"Everyone will eventually betray me" was another.

As an adult, I've had incredible friendships that have stepped into fight back against these false beliefs. The problem is that I have believed them so long and dwelt on them so much that I have some pretty deep thought trenches in my head.

I must now face the challenge of forging new paths for the water to flow, while also dealing with the fact that the water is still trying to deepen the paths already set.

Fighting Back

Metaphors can only take us so far to help us understand the truths of life. The development of thought patterns is far more complex than water on the sand. It is deeply influenced by our temperament, our nutrition, our community, and a hundred other things.

We are affected my the emotional stability of our families.

We are influenced by the DNA that was imparted to us.

It can be beneficial to know the sources, but it isn't necessary in most cases. What is important is you...

a) Identify the pattern or belief as false
b) Choose to fight against it at all costs
c) Surround yourself with healthy(er) community

To Be Continued...

Now that you know a little more about the sources and creation of false belief I hope that you can begin the journey to self care. Next time I'll share more about the challenges of thought recovery and my experience thereof.

Until then...

Grace and Peace,

Stephen

Girls, Growth, and Grace

I remember it clearly: It was 2008. America was over. A new president had been elected. It was a clear sign that the "end" was here. The Great Tribulation had started and Christianity itself was at risk of mass genocide!

Naturally this meant that I had the motivation I needed to ask this really pretty girl from church out on a date. I mean, the world was ending... what did I have to lose?! It was the first time I ever mustered up the courage to ask someone out.

It was also my first rejection...

She let me down easy. While I could make a case that she turned me away due the same apocalyptic terror that I spited me to ask in the first place, let's face the facts: No amount of beautifully crafted sarcasm or love of fantasy movies could cover up the fact that I was not ready for a serious relationship.

At the age of eighteen, I had developed into a relational invalid. I was deeply insecure, chronically depressed, and had an ongoing struggle with self-destructive thought patterns. While I came a long way in terms of overcoming my social awkwardness, and began to move to  far more healthy frame of mind, I was far from being in a place to justify pursuing that kind of a relationship. Nearly a decade later and I’m still warding off the same problems.

But here is the saving grace: I'm getting better.

With each passing year, with every failure, I become more aware of who I am and of my value. Through it all, Christ has been redeeming me: healing me from the inside out. The sickening truth is that our trauma, wounds, etc. don't just go away overnight. If you get locked up in the belief that it's all your fault and/or that you have to overcome it all on your own, like me, the progress will be even slower.

We all need help sometimes. The key to getting through my pain isn't to hold it all in, nor is it to try and find relief by relationships or gaining prestige. It is from learning to be vulnerable and to make REAL connections with humans. I need honest feedback and for people to hear the truth of my struggles. I need to take the risks so that I can be surprised by their love and acceptance. Love and acceptance that has been right here waiting for me to open up this whole time.

Here are just a handful of things that I'm learning:

•You're not the only one who feels the way you feel. To think that you are the only person (out of several billion human beings) experiencing life as you are, then you are falling for a trap.

•Thunderstorms are God's way of reminding you that He is big, and yet still very present with you.

•There are few things more precious than Italian food with those you love.

•Denying others the opportunity to love you is a severe injustice and akin to murder (a blog post for another time.)

•The harder you hold onto something, the more likely you're going to lose it.

•Books are severely underused and underappreciated.

•Don't compromise to impress. It is far better to be rejected for being yourself than it is to lose yourself trying to get approval.

•Wake up every morning seeking to be a better you than the you the day before.

•Learn to be vulnerable at the right times with the right people.

I’m nowhere close to where I want to be. I'm often very emotional, even neurotic, I sabotage my relationships with doubts and distrust, and I punish people for the wrongs of others. This is a part of life! Growing, fighting! So let's fight together! Let's fight for healing because we are most definitely worth our time to discover who God made us to be.

Grace and Peace,

Stephen

Through the Dark Night...

Depression. I feel it in the air like static, slowly building up and filling the atmosphere with tension and disturbing sensations. It's the ghost that wanders the halls of my soul. It's the shadows of the tunnel vision focused in on my failures and my shortcomings.

In light of Mental Health Awareness Month, I wanted to share a little bit of my own heart and journey.

As a pre-teen, and on into my teenage years, I struggled with varying levels of depression, and occasionally experienced suicidal thoughts and desires. Self-harm was no stranger to me, though I never drew blood out of fear. Self-inflicting pain was a weekly occurrence for me, and the desire to die was nearly daily. I filled multiple journals with prayers asking God to end my life. I saw no beauty in living. No peace. No freedom. In my mind, I looked at myself as being without purpose or meaning; without value.

At the age of 16, I found myself sitting in a youth service at a church that my family had just started visiting and my heart turned toward dark places. I began to contemplate the various means I had available for taking my life, from slitting my wrists to chugging pills. They all scared me, but I had decided that my fear of death and fear of facing God was no longer more unbearable than how I felt about life. I was ready for the end, but God intervened.

As I sat there in the darkness of my thoughts, the youth pastor came and sat with me and spoke life into me. He told me that even though he didn't know me, he wanted me to know that I had found a place where I belonged. He told me that he wanted to be there for me and to disciple me. I don't know if I really would have had the courage to take my own life that night, but thanks to God sending me help, I never had to find out.

Eleven years later and I have come through so many trials and storms. That conversation might have saved my life, but it didn't put an end to the onslaught of mental/emotional struggle! I have since had many nights of deep, emotional turmoil. Yet it holds true that God continues to see my through each dark night that I traverse. Each battle leads to strength and to growth. I survive.

If you struggle with mental illness of any sort, please no that you are worth the time and energy to to work through it. Please do not seek to take this on alone. Find help; find support.

We were never meant to live this life alone, and we were never meant to fight our battles in silence.

Fight for your life, because you are human and you are DEFINITELY worth it!

Grace and Peace,

Stephen

Faith. Hope. Love

I was recently writing a speech for one of my students who was graduating from the program that I work at and I was looking for just the right thing to share that reflected his time at Shelterwood. The word "story" echoed in my heart and I began constructing a verbal expression of who I saw in this young man; I reflected upon his story and the themes of his story. Sudden;y, I found myself thinking about my own story and the themes therein. I found something interesting about my life.

Year 12 was a landslide into depression and anger. I was searching for God with all I had and I was angry when I couldn't find him anywhere. Life didn't make sense. How could there be a God that loves me when I watched my sister run away and vanish out my life, my relationship with my brother dissipate into dust, my mom break down crying twice a week, or a dad that I thought I couldn't make happy? How could there be a God out there that let my nation fall into terror and dismay at the hands of heretical extremists?

"God where are you?! Prove to me you exist! Prove that You love me!!!"

At 15 I was thrust into a whole new world of ministry and community. It started with spontaneity, but not my own. No, not my own. I sat there on the back row of the chairs, visiting a youth group that I thought the same as any other. It was just another black hole for me. There was no hope left in my heart and I began asking "How might I die tonight?" A youth pastor whose name I did not yet know shattered the silent screams of my heart and said "You belong. I see you. I will teach you."

"God, I see you....but how can I keep going? How could life ever be ok? Why did you let me live???"

College rocked my world. It was where I met others of a similar difference, and it was there that I fell in love with life. Light shone everywhere and my heart began to beat stronger and stronger with each passing year. I found interests and learned the questions to ask. I felt the pain of disappoint aside the pride of knowing that at least I had tried. I found rejection and betrayal, and forgiveness became something that kept me going. I learned to reach out to people I disliked, and I learned to give more than I thought I could live without.

"Father of Lights, be my light...give me strength and make me an instrument of Thy peace. You gave me life, not let me go and give hope to others: to those that You love."

I moved and left my loves behind because I had to learn to love the "unlovable"...and I had to learn to love myself as much as I had learned to love others. In the giving of my time and energy I lost my works-based belief of self-value.

"Most Merciful God, You have been with me all my days and you have held me when I was weak. You helped me to stay strong and remain in You through super natural faith. When all hope seemed lost, You rushed to my side and lifted me up again and again! You built me up and gave me purpose and drive to go and BE! You have gifted me with a love for others that cannot be taught and You have taught me to love You. Now I seek to know the love You have for me that I might love myself honestly and healthily. I am amazed by You and Your workings in my life. Be with me still all my days and be my strength when I am weak, my faith when I'm in doubt, my hope in the midst of despair, and my love when betrayed and tempted to hate. Be my Everything. I don't feel like loving people right now because I'm tired and frustrated and feeling alone. So teach me to love. That seems to be the phase of life You have me in now. Teach me to Love."

Grace and Peace,

Stephen

"The Walking Prophet" By Stephen Green II

The wind whistled with a morbid fury over the hood of the car as it cruised down HWY 6. A cacophony of thoughts invaded Jacob's mind as he reflected on the events that had taken place that day.

Suddenly he let out a scream: "Why?!" he yelled. "Why, are You doing this to me, God?! Why did you create me just to make me miserable; to just take everything away from me?!"

Silence.

He began to cry. Then a familiar voice echoed in his head and spoke the words of revelation: you are going to die...

Jacob KNEW his death was near...but how would God do it though? How would He ensure Jacob's demise?

Bullets riddling his body as a local gang shooting him out of impulsiveness and desire for blood? Meteors falling from the sky and bringing the tri-state area crumbing to it's knees? Kim Jong releasing his fury upon the United States and the whole western hemisphere collapsing under the weight of nuclear fallout? Then, as raindrops began to build up on the windshield, his face lit up with the illumination of understanding. "That's it!", he thought to himself.

He could see it in his mind so clearly. The car swerving and swaying in the wind and the tires struggling to keep their grip on the road. The weather conditions were perfect for God's inevitable move to end Jacob's life! His car would spin out of control and into the side of the bridge. He would let out a scream as the water below sped towards him, and right as the water approached his car he would close his eyes and accept his fate. Then at the  point of impact the airbags...

...deployed, the world began to spin, and Jacob watched the world fade into blackness.

***

A young woman stared at the floor as she sat in the cold waiting room. An old man approached.

"Zoe Johnson?" He said with a crisp, authoritative voice.

She scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping in the process. "Ye-yes, that's me!"

"Hello, my name is Dr. Theo DeVertas. I am one of the surgeons here at St. Benedict's. I am very sorry to tell you this ma'am, but there was nothing we could do. By the time we arrived he was already gone."

"What happened?" asked the young woman with as much strength as she could muster. The doctor stared at her for a moment and searched for words to convey the truth with as much sensitivity as possible. "We aren't really sure as to how it happened," he said. "We thought that maybe he had fallen asleep at the wheel and simply ran off the road, but witnesses report seeing him wide eyed; even looking a bit crazed as he sped past them. I'm sorry to have to tell you this miss, but...but it looks like he may have taken his life by his own hand..."

Zoe couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "I can't believe he would just...I wouldn't have left him if I had..."

"No, no," responded the old surgeon, "Don't be hard on yourself. He chose death. You left him because you had to for your own health."

" What if I had just sacrificed a little more? What if I could have stopped it?! What if...what if I had told him I loved him instead of 'goodbye?'"

"Do you think he would have believed you?"

"No..." she said, gathering her composure and wiping away the tears that flooded her cheeks. "No I don't think he would. No matter how much I tried to show it he always said that I didn't really mean it; that I would leave him. I guess he was right after all..."

"Sounds to me like he brought that upon himself." Replied the doctor. Then, with a flash of wisdom in his eyes he said, "No...you didn't leave him. It sounds to me like he never really let himself have you to begin with."

***

Zoe stared down at the water below. She had driven across this bridge many times, but it never stood out to her as significant until tonight. The waters below her tossed and churned in the wind, beckoning her to come and be one with the river. She thought about her late husband and upon the words of the surgeon.

Guilt and shame came upon her in waves as memories of the argument filled her mind. What the surgeon said was right. She had left for her own health, and in honest for the health of her husband as well. She felt hopeless, and she knew that he had driven her to that, and her hopelessness only continued to further their struggle.

Zoe reflected on all the words that he had spoken concerning the job he would lose, the separation and breaking of their vows, and about him dying as a young man: alone and in despair. She had hoped that time away would help them both to deal with the brokenness of their relationship and that, eventually, they would heal and they would one day be reconciled. She wanted to show him the truth...but now it was too late.

She screamed out in anger, "Why did you have to go and leave me?! I needed you!"

Silence.

She felt it deep in her bones: hopelessness. She heard the voice screaming in the back of her mind "Jump! Jump! Jump!"

She looked up to heaven and said, "God...forgive me."

Then turning her attention again to the torrent below she said, "Jacob...I love you with all my heart. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you and for not being strong enough; for being so dead inside for so long. Today, I choose life. Today, I choose to live for the both of us."

Then she turned her attention back to the road ahead, and just kept walking.

The Thief and the Pharisee: Seeing Christian Themes in "Les Misérables"

In the New Testament, we are presented with a couple of interesting classifications of people with which Christ interacts: the Thief and the Pharisee. Many people that Jesus interacted with were considered thieves, some even became His disciples. The thief that stands out the most is the one that hung next to Christ on the cross. This thief recognized his depravity, and saw the light of Christ. He did not ask for forgiveness, but instead he humbly asked that Christ would remember him in His kingdom. That man found salvation that day.

The Pharisees were the legalistic religious leaders of Judaism. They were spiritual leaders of the people in the region of Judea and Palestine, but to whatever was required by the Law they added stricter guidelines and boundaries. They went above and beyond the Law and insisted that all others followed. They showed no grace, even if what was broken was not the Law, but merely their traditions. These men opposed Christ for showing grace to sinners and for not following their petty demands.

When watching the movie Les Misérables (starring Russell Crowe, Ann Hathaway, and Hugh Jackman) I recognized some substantial Christian themes throughout the story. Many might say that the religious theme is merely a reflection of the culture of the time and the authors desire to capture the state of France in the early nineteenth century. I believe that there is much more depth to it than an appeal to historical accuracy.

For example, is it not odd that when the priest invites Jean Valjean into the parish, he offers “wine to revive [him] and bread to make [him] strong” and yet never actually gives him either? He was actually referring to the Eucharist and actually speaking of the healing power of Christ! After this Valjean betrays the priest (who is a representative of Christ to the people) by stealing the silver, which I another interesting element to the story for Christ was also betrayed for silver.

Valjean is dragged back to the priest by the local police and we see the theme continuing. The priest is now wearing white (as opposed to black the night before) and his robes are decorated with designs of green. Additionally, there is a depiction of the Eucharistic bread and wine at the center of his chest with beams of light emanating from them. This is clearly a reflection of the revelation that our former prisoner is receiving as the priest approaches carrying the two silver candle sticks—also  symbolic in this moment as the Light now shines on Valjean’s soul. The priest once again shows grace and mercy to him; then he speaks a blessing over him.

Valjean then wrestles with the condition of his soul and questions who he is. He renounces his own name and then takes up a new name. The priest shows grace and offers bread and wine (Christ), and Jean Valjean walks away from the parish a completely changed man; he lives out the next 8 years as Mr. LaMare and undergoes a severe change of attitude and action. Valjean is the thief. He did wrong and broke the law, but found redemption in Christ. Under his new alias, Valjean becomes a mayor and successful business man. During this time he makes significant strides to repair a once broken community, providing jobs and cleaning the streets.

Here we are first introduced to Fantine, a young woman working herself to death to try and take care of her daughter in lew of a terrible situation where they were abandoned by the child’s father. Fantine is working in a factory that makes, of all things, rosaries! Could this be a reflection of the author’s opinion of the Church? These women are examples of those who claim to be righteous and devout, but they are gossips and vicious lions. In but a moment, they arrogantly invade Fantine’s privacy and her secret is revealed. The other women, who have the audacity to call Fantine “sister”, betray her to the rather “forward” foreman. These women speak evil of Fantine and influence the foreman to have her thrown out on the streets. Because of their hypocrisy, Fantine is destroyed and is tossed away like trash. She soon finds herself prostituting herself away to make ends meet.

Now enters the Pharisee: Javert. Javert is the shining example of a police officer who follows the law to the letter! Javert is the man who set Valjean out from the prison and later the man who hunts Valjean for breaking parole. Javert continually displays disdain for Valjean and declares him a con, thief, and sinner. At one point he even likens Valjean to Lucifer himself and makes statements such as “Honest work, just reward: that’s the way to please the Lord” as he steps in to enact “justice” without giving heed to the pleas of Fantine. Javert sees himself as a righteous man because of his obedience to the law and his staunch support of the law.

There is a constant clash of philosophy and worldview between Javert and Valjean as their lives unfold. The thief has become a hero, a leader of men and the saver of lives; the pharisee an oppressive and obsessed hunter of men. Eventually, Javert finds himself at the mercy of Valjean who has spent over a decade fleeing in fear. The thief stands over the pharisee with a knife in one hand and gun in the other. Then he cuts the ropes and says “Be gone. There is nothing I blame you for. You’ve done your duty and nothing more.” At this great act of mercy and grace Javert is flabbergasted! He cannot understand the mercy and grace being shown to him. He then tells Valjean that he will not make a life bargain, but Valjean turns and says that his allowing Javert to live was not a bribe, and that if he would wait but a day, he would turn himself in.

Javert is later faced with the choice of killing the man he has hunted for so long or letting him walk away to save the life of another. His worldview then crumbles. In the face of the possibility of being, he throws himself into the river, trapped by his legalistic framework of reality and his unwillingness to not live in a world where those who do wrong can be redeemed.

These two characters bear the same goal, to uphold the will of God and to be living instruments of the His will, but they have very different understandings of God. Ultimately, the one that looses himself in the Law and becomes fixated on the works of perfection and “righteousness” becomes tethered down by his pride and self-centeredness which leads to his committing the greatest sin short of blaspheming the Holy Spirit: suicide (which in this case could be argued as one and the same).

In the act of killing himself, he proverbially slaps God in the face, as well as all of the created order, and demands no part in it, insulting his Creator. Alas, we do not see Javert in the final scene with the others who are standing on the great barricade of liberty that is “Heaven.”

Les Misérables, is a movie rich in philosophy and theology. We often miss the messages that authors and film directors are trying to get across. As Christians we have a responsibility to engages culture and the arts, but he have given into the laziness and desire for simple amusement; ignoring the need to engage with our intellect for the sake of focusing on emotions and self-pleasure. May we all learn to engage more fully and to not take for granted what artists and authors have laid out for us to engage.

Peace be with you.

Stephen

"Oh, Logic, Where Hath Thou Gone?"

Allow me to tell you a story of a woman. Not just anyone mind you, but an odd and reclusive woman who only ever comes out of her apartment to walk her two medium-sized, brown-furred dogs. If you lived in the same apartment complex as I, you would find that it would hold true that you will see her, day in and day out, being dragged by her two dogs who appear desperate to escape their leash-bearing dictator.

Recently, however, the woman has been seen out and about with two little girls of shockingly similar hair color to that of the fur on the previously mentioned dogs. Additionally, the two girls (as it has been noted by many) have been rather fearful little creatures and seem quite bent on keeping their distance from their overseer. Finally…it all makes sense.

Now that it is known that the woman is not merely odd but is, in fact, a witch, we other tenants are striving to stay away from her as much as possible to avoid offending the transmutilator as best as possible. Sadly, we have not the sufficient evidence to present to the police so as to have her arrested, nor to the Vatican to have her burned…instead we must endure with hideous fear for our beings and watch with curiosity as to whether the two poor girls are turned back into dogs…

Wasn’t that a delightful tale? I know it warmed MY heart! Let’s talk about it…

The moral of the story is…use logic! Think before you speak. Everyone fails at this from time to time (myself doubly included), but some excel at being illogical! There are a whole slew of reasons as to why people do this, including (but not limited to) laziness, ignorance, pride, selfish and/or manipulative intent, fear, boredom, etc.

The logic of the narrator and the “other tenants” was that A) the woman was odd and had two brown-furred dogs and B) the woman suddenly had two little girls with brown hair running around and no dogs, therefore C) the woman is a witch and has transformed her dogs into girls (further speculation might lead one to ask if the origin of the dogs were originally human or if they started as dogs…or perhaps they were 60 ft purple platypus-bears. Who knows?!). The line of logic here is absurd! But isn’t that something we do with theology and scripture all the time?

I recently had a discussion online with a man I used to go to church with quite a few years ago. He and I have not spoken in nearly 7 or 8 years, but it came to my attention (as I was scrolling through Facebook) that he had posted a status of questionable, theological teaching. The statement was that he was woken up that morning by a voice that “sounded as if someone was in [his] house saying ‘GABRIEL’S LIPS ARE ON THE TRUMPET’”.

 I shrugged and moved on, figuring it was nothing more than a passing thought and wouldn't be something to concern myself about; just another status about “hearing something in the Spirit” that led one to cry and pray. I believe that the Holy Spirit still speaks to His people and I’m not against crying and praying, but later that day I saw a second status from the same person that pushed the issue further and I felt the need to say something. His second status stated that “it is believed that in the last days the Archangel Gabriel will blow the trumpet” and then he stated the verse from I Thessalonians that refers to Christ’s return. After that he stated that many have falsely interpreted it as Michael the Archangel (the only one in the Bible to actually be entitled as such, by the way) and referenced Jude 9.

Upon reading this I jumped in and asked if there was a scripture verse that stated that Gabriel was the one to blow the trumpet…to which I was met with a load of responses, some I found unpleasant, and a couple even heretical. While it was confirmed that there wasn't a verse stating such a thing as Gabriel being a trumpeter, I was asked “why not?”

Before I answer the “why not”, I will first discuss the reasoning displayed by a couple of the people who responded to my questioning. I’ll condense the conversation a little bit and hit the main points in the line of logic presented to me: A) Gabriel was most common of the angelic beings mentioned in the Bible and B) Gabriel is seen as a messenger. C) Michael is an angel of war. D) There are no other angels whose names are mentioned, therefore E) it must be Gabriel because that’s who God would choose and also F) this random guy from North Georgia woke up to hear the “Holy Spirit” say it so it must be true.

Give me a second. *takes in 3 slow, deep breaths and counts to 10* Ok, hopefully if you are reading this you are understanding a bit of my frustration in this issue. I cannot blame them (not fully at least) for their conclusions. Most of what they believe came from being taught by others that they respect as spiritual leaders and the responsibility falls to the pastors and teachers who did not check their teachings before they led people astray. They are however, responsible for not studying themselves and for not testing what they hear.

I’m not going to go into a lot of detail with the “why not” since that would be another post entirely, but I will throw out the points that stand out the most. 1) Scripture is our authority for testing spirits, for doctrine, and for right teaching, 2) the Holy Spirit in all of His divine, infinite wisdom and understanding is going to sync up with the words that He inspired the Biblical authors to write, 3) Gabriel is never…NEVER called an archangel in the entirety of the Bible (this is a teaching that was brought about by the writing of Pseudo-Dionysius who wrote the unbiblical angelical hierarchy commonly recognized throughout much of Christendom today), 4) Michael being of War makes more sense in light of the fact that the event of Christ coming back is as the conquering King, and 5) the verse that was mentioned in the status implies that it is Christ that holds the trumpet and does the shouting.

If you are going to be so bold as to say “Thus saith the Lord…” then you must be ready to give a defense or call down fire, otherwise you might some verbal stoning will be the adequate response. The Christian community has to be ready to hold each other accountable to be held accountable, especially to those whom God have placed in authority over us. Anyone who refuses to be tested or attacks those who lovingly question one's words are worthy of being labeled a "wolf in sheep's' clothing". Especially if they begin calling those questioners divisive and confrontational or accusing them of weaving doubt about one's ability to hear the Holy Spirit. That's a pride-filled answer and only raises more red-flags.

To avoid questioning, I was asked “why does it matter who blows the trumpet?” It doesn't. What matters is that a man publicly stated the God spoke to him, putting him in a place of spiritual authority and that God told him something that was not supportable by scripture. If the Holy Spirit were to take the time to speak audibly to someone, I believe that He would have a lot more to say than one sentence that brings undue attention to angels, but I do believe crying would definitely be the correct response.

Peace be with you,
Stephen.

Imagine...

A young man looks up and sees a great lake before him, a great relief from the rocky mountains that his feet have had to endure for so long. He rushes into the water and takes in the coolness and the refreshing feel of liquid washing away the sweat and grime that he has had to live with for weeks on end. What joy! What relief! He is back to the land of his origin, to the familiar and the comfortable...or then again, not...so...comfortable. 

Words began to form in the back of his mind...as if echoing from a great distance saying, 

"My dear traveler, how long has your soul been at ease though wounds and pain you have endured? You have seen great joy and great sorrow; the journey has taken its toll. Traveler, you have returned from your journeys and you have brought your scars...but have you forgotten why you have those scars? War. 

"Do you not remember why you began your journey?A song. A song called to you from the depth, oh traveler. Do you not remember? It filled your heart with dread, yet you could not escape desire for it. It seemed like the very notes of your heart were being played for the first time and Life came and she led you away...to pain and purging she led you away. 

"Now you have returned to your place of 'comfort', just as blind as you were before. That song led you away and transformed you; brought forth the Light within your soul. You were pulled away so that you could find strength; you were drawn from chaos so that you might have order...that through war you might find strength and the peace that would complete you. Your journey wasn't over. Be careful, lest you be enslaved again." 

Suddenly...his eyes are open...

Out of the water the young traveler rushes with all ferocity and speed! It is too late. Darkness rolls over the mountains like smoke pouring over a balcony and his way out is blocked. Fear grips the young man's mind and instantly he runs for his sack. There is little time and he knows it. With all haste he pulls out rags and bandages his open wounds, wraps his wrists and ankles, and grabs his staff. He stands and prays that he can defend himself against what he knows is about to come. 

The lake that was a source of delight and relief just moments ago, was now churning with fury and hatred, beckoning the still weak and weary traveler to come and drown. It seemed like the joy and the life within him was being siphoned out of him, as if the very air he breathed was being taken from his nostrils. Despair stabs his heart as a great sea serpent bubbles out of the deep, letting out a roar that would turn the hearts of even the most hardened of men. 

Now, I am no writer (at least not in terms of fiction), but I do have an active imagination. One that I should probably exercise a little more often to be honest. How about you? How long have you gone without using your imagination? Can you see this taking place. If you are a guy then you might even be seeing yourself in this story. If you are a girl then you are daydreaming about someone you like or making up your dream guy, or perhaps you are THAT kinda person and decided to exchange all the "he's" for "she's" and the "his'" for "her's", and all of those are perfectly fine.

So you are probably trying to figure out why the heck I took the time to write all this. Don't worry, I have several perfectly good reasons.

1) In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth...and He said "Let Us make man in Our Image." and the rest is history. Granted, I took two totally separate scriptures and put them side by side...ok yes, yellow flag in most cases. I do not believe, however, that in my doing so I am changing the context or meaning that we can derive from scripture. God is creative. This is evidenced by the World that surrounds us on a daily basis!

Such beauty and wonder. Each of our lives, whether good or...not so good, are pieces of art that display the image of God and the beauty of our Creator. God is creative, and as a part of being made in the image of God...so are we.

It is God glorifying that we should use our imaginations that He has given to us to create, to describe, or even to prescribe reality.

2)I wanted to write out a metaphor that reflected my perspective of my current place in life spiritually, emotionally, psychologically (which I call the Great Trifectoid see previous post). I wanted to do this for the sake of processing my own thoughts and feelings, but to also help give others a chance to see things a new perspective. That maybe others feel the same way as I do at this moment, or perhaps to help others who don't feel the same way to have an avenue in which they might be able to grasp such a feeling.

3) By golly I wanted to to improve my skills in creative writing.

So now that you have had a chance to read a little bit into my soul, lets continue on. The rest will be created by drawing from the hope and the desires I have within me for my present and my future...leading to the ending that I want most, what I aim for most, and truly believe will be the outcome in reality.

The terrible, scaly creature stared menacingly into the eyes of the quivering soul that stood on the edge of the bubbling cauldron. Stone cold, the young traveler (who felt very much like a little child again) stood frozen in terror and in anger with himself. Why had he ended up here? How could he have come so far just to fall at the gnashing teeth of the beast that once enslaved him so long ago? 

And there is was...faint at first, but it was definitely there. The Voice...the Voice that sang from the echoing depths of eternity and straight into the young man's soul began to speak again. It said, "Test the waters. Your end is not here." and with that strength rushed into him as if from some unknown  source and courage overtook him. He stood tall and held his staff in hand. Eyes locked with the beast, he bid the monster to come and die.

Never had there been such a fire as that which lit up within him as he ran across the rocks and the waves. He wasn't sure how he was running across the churning waters (and it is uncertain whether he even realized it till after the battle was over), but in the moment it was irrelevant. All that mattered was victory. He had no choice; there was no running, no turning back now. It was win...or die. 

The serpent dived and surfaced in many attempts to strike the traveler down, but to no avail! He was too fast for the serpent and he glided across the water if he were one with it. He struck at the great sea monster every chance he could and it screamed with pain as energy and flames burst from his staff, but none of the attacks were enough to slay the creature. 

The battle raged for over an hour, but to the traveler it seemed like an eternity. Despite his new found strength and vigor, it did not appear that it was going to be enough to fight. How could he win with just a mere staff. Suddenly a sword appeared in his hand and the Voice spoke saying, "You will never fight alone, my dear traveler. I started you on this journey and I will see you through to the end." Words began to fill his mouth and a language he did not know came forth. As he stood hovering over the water staring at the monster, now turning and rushing toward him, the young man who had become more than a mere traveler readied himself and screamed the words that poured from his soul! 

Wind and water swirled around him and launched him towards the throat of his assailant and sliced through the neck of the great monster...then landed on the other side of the sea of water. The battle was finally won. 

"What happened then?" you might ask. The traveler picked up his things and kept going. The journey was not over and in his heart he knew there were many more such demons that lay in the path before him; many of which were not his own to fight. The sword now gone, he continued on with nothing more than his staff and his clothes to behold the wondrous adventures that lie ahead.