Thursday, March 31, 2011

unsocial networking

As all (three) of you may recall, nearly a year ago, my pace quickened and my step changed direction as God called me toward His marvelous light. I gave up eating out at all forms of restaurants for approximately 40 days. Grease and fries to the wind, what I found was a desperation within my heart that I had not known before.

So this year, after very little deliberation, and for purposes of earnest seeking (not purposes of traditional value), I offered up something near and dear to my heart. Yes friends, I have given up (drum roll) social networking websites. Goodbye Facebook. Goodbye Twitter.

As has been mentioned on more than one occasion by more than one friend, I was “addicted” to Twitter. While my Twitter use appealed to me for multiple reasons, i.e.; receiving updates about happenings in the world, having encouraging spiritual gems by learned men and women of God, and outputting thoughts and revelations throughout the day for various individuals to “enjoy”, I found myself referring to both accounts countless times throughout the day. Perhaps someone might find what I had to say interesting. Maybe someone “liked” something I posted, or maybe by some miracle I gained more than 30 followers on an account where I only knew approximately 6 people. I found myself mid-conversation, mid-car ride, mid-church service(!), thinking “Oh! That’s good, I should tweet that!”

After having gone without (and I do not mean to sound as if this is some life and death sacrifice) for 21 days, I am learning that having the approval of man (in the form of “likes”, “comments”, and “mentions”) is something I relied on for fulfillment in ways that I can’t explain.

Our behavior must be driven in a way that forces us to be humbled while acknowledging that we were created to glorify God alone. We must be careful to examine our motives and our behavior, with reverence to God’s word. Finally, we must ask God to search our hearts continually and pray that He finds a heart made pure and blameless before Him.

You make me new.

Please pardon my absence.
I sit and write, with full heart but empty mind.
I have little to say of my own words that can make what's happened seem beautiful, but I can assure you, to God's glory, he is faithful to the oppressed and to those who seek Him earnestly and fervently.

It seems so much has happened, to my fall- yet to God's glory that I haven't the words to describe the means to my end- or the means that God plucked me out from the pit that I dug for myself.

I'll keep it short. Short, but not sweet. I made my bed in a place that looked a lot like hell for a little while. As honesty would have me admit, I stepped outside of His peace, and tried to create my own. Without going into much detail, I quickly learned (again) the consequences of an individual depraved. The truth is that it is much harder to find one's way back to the narrow, than it is to wander apart from it, and I've been reaping the consequences of this seed for longer than I'd like to mention. But by God's mercy He has taken the cup from me and given me the precious blood in it's place.

And I'd lay in bed long nights, with what felt like a heart of stone, and a cry that came from somewhere else would plead deliverance from the darkness that surrounded me.
Glory to God, and no credit of my own, I became desperate for the God of Whom I had stepped outside of.
I can see myself in that ocean again. There I was, dark, raining, and under water. The further I sank, the more desolate and dark, and my lungs ran out of air a long time ago, and maybe I died. I can't be sure.

And then, by no strength of my own, I found my way back to the place that my descent began in the first place. And my hungry lungs took a desperate and violent first breathe of air that flooded my spirit and rescued the soul of it's beholder. Resurrected.

You make me new.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Betrothed

On the edge of a canyon I stood,
back to the wind & face to the clouds.
Took a step forward, thought it might be nice to feel like flying for a little while.
God knows, I couldn’t see all the way down.

And He grabbed me right before I jumped, said at the bottom was a fiery ground.
And I’d be sure to burn,
if I didn’t die first
And I answered with tears flowing down.

His feet were muddy by the time they got to me,
Said He’d been walking through the trenches
all from a seed
that grew in my heart, turned in to a plea,
And He’d come to rescue me.

Give grace to a broken heart,
dead flowers breathe life for the first time.
Awaken the dead man sleeping inside,
give voice to this soul of mine

My Bloody hands redeemed by the Vine.

Greenpond, South Carolina

It feels different being back here now. As if I'd been here only for the first time, every tree a landmark for freedom. The rolling hills that might scatter at the sound of God's thunderous voice, and His children would rejoice instead of pondering how such a mystery happened scientifically.

Like the earth moves a little slower, but those that walk it, walk just a little wiser than the wise might think, for it's the foolish things that confound the wise. Like her people walk their days with stamps on their foreheads, and no one needs to ponder at the meaning, because they all have the same ones.

Am I generalizing a people, and overlooking a serious and fatal disease called humanity? Yes, and maybe. But the truth is, Greenpond, South Carolina is a special place. A place too small to be called a town, where people know each and the other, help each other, and love each other. A place my grandfather helped transition into a place called Love. A place that calls me child.