Archives for July 2018

Bound around my waist, in the center of my body, a belt squeezes me tight.  No room to shift around under this belt.  It has a sure hold.  The grip is undeniable.  Although, my waist wants to push it off and become flabby with exorbitant delicacies that belt holds tight.  It is a certain length and cannot be added to.  I have found that it is actually much shorter than I once thought.

That belt points up to my chest where a protective covering sits.  This covering protects my heart.  The lifeblood that pours through me is filtered underneath this covering.  Removing impurities.  Filling it with life-giving oxygen.  Pumping it through my veins to every extremity.  Providing flow that keeps me moving in the right direction.

That great pump pushes down deep so that I am prepared to step out in peace.  Giving me direction in front of my toes.  Pointing me onward in this rat-race.  Not looking back.

But as I move forward fiery darts are thrown my way.  Because I am moving forward and not backward, those darts come fast and furious.  Aimed at the most precarious of places.  Aimed to kill.  But they can’t.  Of that I am certain.  Every flame of death will be extinguished.

Gushing waters bombard and overtake my head.  Swirling torrents slap and twist around me turning me violently from one side to the other and then back again and then up and then down and sometimes right back up.  But my head is covered with a helmet.  And the helmet contains a great flotation device that prevents me from being held under too long.  It buoys me back up with great gentle strength.

And all this so I can swing my sword.  Awesome and powerful is this sword.  Sharp and precise.  Made in the greatest refinery.  Purest of metal.  No dross.  Unmatched weapon of war.

The whole package wrapped in the most delicate but durable of wrappings.  Sheer and airy at times.  Dense and thick at other times.  Impenetrable all the time.  It cannot be removed from this package.  You can slip inside and reside there but once you are there, you are there to stay.

Leaves me in a sure-footed stance.  Truth and righteousness abound with peace in salvation protected by the word and wrapped in prayer.  Alert and ready.  For myself and others.

Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak.  Ephesians 6:14-20 (ESV)

It is sad.  This chair I am sitting in.  It has some pretty ugly scars.  It is still incredibly comfortable.  I can prop my feet up on the ottoman or pull my legs up in the chair with me.  It is even big enough for me to lay on my side and catch a short nap.

At one time the fabric was my favorite.  I still enjoy the colors.  I still enjoy having this chair.  But it is unsightly now.  I am not really sure if the quality of the fabric was not durable enough for the beatings we have given it or if our beatings have just been too hard.  Either way, there are some holes.

Those holes started as a fading of the color.  Then one thread snapped and gave way to a small hole.  Then that small hole was picked at and sat on and wiggled in and became a bigger hole.  A rip in the fabric.  An irreparable gash in the covering of this chair.  This hole cannot be sewn back together.

The only thing that will fix this chair is to remove the old covering and replace it.  Some might even say the whole chair needs to go.  Just depends on the perspective of the beholder.  Depends on the relationship of the sitter to the chair.

Isn’t this old chair a little like me?  Thread bare in places and gashed wounds bleeding stuffing in other places.  Cuts run deep enough that there needs to be an overhaul in the fabric.  But just how much am I willing to pay to refinish this old chair?  Is it worth it to me to refinish it or do I need a fresh start?

I think we all find ourselves in places in life where we have to look around and see what needs to be refinished.  Evaluate ourselves from different angles and determine what needs happen moving forward.  Looking back will only help so much.  It may keep me from making the same mistakes again.  But I don’t want to return to something of low quality that will leave me desiring better.

The good thing about this old chair is that it reminds me this world is temporary.  No matter what I purchase, it will not last forever.  No amount of money can purchase a man-made object that will last forever.

So, in my quest for long-lasting durability, I shift my eyes up.  Realizing I may have to raise the bar a little more in order to know excellence.  I won’t settle for mediocrity.  I won’t compromise on quality.

And if you think I am just talking about furniture, you are wrong.

Because the fabric of my life is not just this ragged chair.  The fabric of my life is the love of my Savior.  The essence of His Spirit moving and shaking and holding me.  The people He brings into my life that gives me different perspectives.  He helps me see beyond myself.  He provides me a good comfortable seat in this theater of life.

Sometimes the seat can get a little hard to sit in.  But it isn’t because He has changed.  It isn’t because He has left me.  It might just be because I took my eyes off Him.  Some obstacle may have grabbed my attention and caused me to have temporary blindness.

So, I am asking Him to return my vision.  To clean the wounds of my gashes and forgive my wandering heart.  To bind up that which is torn.  To make quality repairs that will last for eternity.

She has always seen me differently than I see myself. She looks through eyes of love and forgives my imperfections. She knows they are there but doesn’t get bogged down in the trivial.

Her hugs are all encompassing. She wraps her long arms around me and doesn’t hold anything back. She isn’t shy about displaying how she feels. She has hugged me all my life.

There is a picture of her and me. I was just a baby. They had put a wig on my head that made me look like a little Native American with long dark braids. But I was just a chunky little baby being held by someone that already loved me dearly.

She finds beauty everywhere. She carries a camera and points. The results are precious memories. Memories captured by the eye of the beholder. Always seeking beauty from the Creator. Perhaps because she is beautiful. Living in beauty.

And now she finds herself in a battle. That disease that requires treatments that can be tormenting. And she knows about that torment because she has watched loved ones in similar battles. But she isn’t scared. She is fearless.

You see, she is a warrior princess. And she has a promise. She lives right smack in the middle of that promise. A promise so sure that nothing can destroy it. Her armor is divinely appointed. Anointed.

She knows the battle she faces is not her own. The battle she faces has already been won. She already knows victory. She will take this journey and let her Author write the chapter. And He will hold her hand every step of the way.

And on the other side of the battle she will have a testimony. It will be known. There will be a crowd of witnesses beholding the race she runs and they will see grace and mercy and peace. The Giver of these things has an endless supply and provides abundantly beyond anything we can imagine.