The shame of suffering

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We become resilient not by denying the reality of brokenness or our feelings of vulnerability and shame but by naming them within relationships of safety and empathy.

This article is about a little girl that died. And about how her parents and her church could not accept their grief. And for six days they prayed for her body to be resurrected.

It says so much about power, religion, lament and shame.

“…shame is the primary biological force that evil uses to disrupt and disconnect us from one another and the reality of God’s love. When our faith isn’t strong enough to remove suffering or conquer death, we often feel deep shame over our insufficiency, an experience that gets reinforced by Christian culture’s over-emphasis on the power of faith to produce healing. Suffering is often treated like something worth praying away rather than a meaningful experience through which we might all better know the God who chose to suffer. When suffering lingers, we often become isolated in shame, suffering silently and privately instead of being pitied or further shamed by endless prayers for healing.”

Read it here:
https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2019/december-web-only/wakeupolive-heiligenthal-bethel-church-miracle-doesnt-come.html?fbclid=IwAR1QiBmWbm_OSiv4Mmq0VG5AM2m0qSMybYmZr2zYK9oEDIkkiZTOMvPT5VQ

Gifts

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If a gift is freely given, I am able to do as I please with it.

We’ve just finished the season of gift giving. I thought I’d write a post about gifts.

I was out to lunch with a friend recently and she told me a story about a gift.  She had been gifted a magazine that was published by Billy Graham’s organization.   Along with the subscription, came quite a bit of mail from the same organization.   After reading an issue or two, she felt that she didn’t like the message that was being put forth in the publication.  It was political in a way that didn’t align with her values.  It was also religious in a way that didn’t align with her beliefs.   So, she called the organization that published the magazine and asked if she could have the magazine mailed to a friend who she knew was more of the mindset represented in the magazine.  She was sure this friend would enjoy it.   The company said, no, she could not transfer it to another person.  They said that it did not belong to her, it belonged to her friend who had gifted it to her and that friend would have to initiate the transfer.  My friend was puzzled by this and told them so.  “If it’s a GIFT that was given to ME, doesn’t it belong to me?” she inquired.   “No, it belongs to the giver,” she was told.    She tried to reason with them, “this makes no sense.  If I was given an article of clothing and wanted to return it, the store would not require the giver to return it, they would allow me to return it and would give me store credit and/or a refund”   The organization was adamant that the “gift” did not belong to her to do with as she pleased.   They said they would cancel the subscription and inform her friend of the cancellation.   She asked them not to inform her friend, she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  They were adamant.  So, she said to forget the cancellation, just go ahead and continue to send the magazine.  They would not.  They insisted on the cancellation and were firm in the fact that they were going to cancel it and inform her friend.  Which they did.   My friend called her friend and apologized.  She said she appreciated the sentiment, but the magazine was just not where she was spiritually or politically. 

To be sure, my friend has no idea if her friend sent the magazine in the hopes of converting her way of thinking, just to be nice, or for any other reason.  What she does know is that the organization who publishes the magazine did not consider the gift to be rejectable with no strings attached and her friend has not spoken to her since she rejected it. 

I thought about this gift and how it was a great metaphor for much of the religious world’s misunderstanding of the idea of a gift. 

Romans 3:24 describes a gift from the “god” perspective  “But by the free gift of God's grace all are put right with him through Christ Jesus, who sets them free.”

Side note:   Notice the verse says that ALL are put right?  Not some, not those who responded correctly, but ALL.  The gift referenced here – grace – is not selective or exclusive.  That’s important theology.

We also see that the gift of grace is free.   There is nothing required, no payment, no pay-back.  Free is free. 

We all know that for a gift to be a gift it is freely given with no strings attached. 

This means that:

-          The gift is not given to elicit a certain response (ie. a return gift, a thank you, a particular type of behavior or reward, an alliance) if a particular response is required, the gift is a bribe given to obtain this certain type of behavior, recognition, alliance or obligation. 

  -          The gift is rejectable.    If I don’t like or want a gift, and it is freely given, I am free to reject it, re-gift it or return it.

-          The gift is abusable.  If a gift is freely given, I am able to do as I please with it.  Perhaps you’ve given me a dress and I want to wear it as a nightshirt.  Perhaps you’ve given me a mug and I want to use it as a pencil holder.  Perhaps you’ve given me a lovely bottle of wine.  I should be able to drink it all at once and get drunk on it. The freely given gift belongs to me once given.  You don’t say what I do with it.

But this is not how religion presents grace.  Religion has always told me and may have told you that grace was something that came with a required response and that if that particular response was not given, then either I hadn’t really accepted it, or the grace was no longer in effect.   In the case of the religion I inherited,  I must believe, repent and be baptized, to receive the “gift” of God’s grace.   This is not really a gift, but rather a quid pro quo system.  A transaction.  An exchange.   Also, the religion I inherited said that once the gift of grace was given, it must be treated in a certain way and if it was not, it was no longer grace.   And yet, the mug on my desk that is holding pencils is still a mug.

I think of the story of the prodigal son.  I said in an earlier post that it was a great story about the nature of god.  It’s a great story about the nature of a free gift as well.   The first gift from the father was the fact the son was an heir and had an inheritance.  The son didn’t really want to wait until his father died to get it, he rejected that type of inheritance and asked for it early.  The father then freely gave it to him – early.  On the son’s terms, not the fathers.    The son abused it.  The father still welcomed him back with his status as an heir fully intact (ie. ring on his finger, robes).  The fact the son abused it didn’t nullify the gift.  The fact the son spent the money wildly didn’t affect his status one bit.  

No response to the giving of the inheritance was required from the son.  

No response was required from his brother either.  The brother was bitter about this free-gift system.  It seemed quite unfair to him. 

“The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him.  But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.

Everything I have is yours.

It’s free.

It’s for both sons – regardless of their “right” or “wrong” choices. 

No particular response was required.

None.  

Because it’s not a transaction.

It’s a gift.

All these stories use religious words to describe these gift-principals of reality.  Words like “god” and “grace”

It doesn’t really matter what words you use.  The principle stands.  If you like the idea of the “universe” rather than the religious term “god” that works as well. 

Does the universe withhold sun and rain from those that don’t appreciate it?  How many times have you lacked appreciation for the sun or the rain?  Did that change anything?  No, it kept on shining and raining.

Does the earth withhold its flora and fauna from those that abuse it?   No, it just keeps on giving.  We continue to abuse the earth and it continues to bring forth life, and food, and water and shade.   It’s a free gift.  A grace.  

To be sure, we can abuse it to the point that we destroy ourselves completely.  But long after we are gone, the earth will bring forth plants, and animals and will go on giving its free gift to whatever creatures are left.  The sun will give light.  

To be sure, one day about 10 billion years from now, our sun will run out of fuel in its interior and will cease the internal  thermonuclear reactions that enable stars to shine. It will swell into a  red giant, whose outer layers will engulf Mercury and Venus and likely reach the Earth. Life on Earth will end.  But the universe will continue to create more suns.  

But this is not a withholding of a gift or a leveraging a gift to gain control.  It is simply the cycle of life and death.

Everything dies and even death is a free gift. 

Can we take this in?   Can we believe that the universe (or god) works this way?  That its gifts are given freely with no strings attached?  

Most can’t.  Most have seldom received a truly free gift. Most feel the need to tack on a qualifier, “well, yes, it was freely given, but if we truly are grateful for the gift, we will do X”

Maybe it’s the qualifier that dampens our gratitude most of all.   We all see this with children whose parents give “gifts” with qualifiers.  The parent expects a phone call every couple of days – “after all, we are paying your tuition, it’s the least you can do.”  -versus the parent who expects no call.   The child of the second parent may not call more often than the first but she is certainly more eager to talk to her parent than the first.

In the same way, perhaps if we could see “god” or “the universe” as a truly free giver, we would feel more compelled toward it, more in love with it, more likely to engage with it.  

The place to start

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It brought me back to presence.

Sometimes I just say whatever I’m thinking.  I don’t consider how it might be perceived or how it might make another person feel. 

I just say it.

Sometimes I say it too loud.

Sometimes I say too much.

Sometimes I give my opinion when no one asked for it. A lot of times.

Sometimes I say things with a certain “tone” that I’ve been told can be intimidating or even condescending.

At the time, I don’t hear myself being loud, or intimidating.  Usually I’m just excited or passionate about an idea and am having a great time sharing it. My ego is having a great time thinking that whatever I have to say is important and interesting.

I got feedback from a friend last week that led me to feel that this quality of my communication had hurt her.  It had left her feeling that her way of seeing things was somehow less-than.     

I felt sad. 

I felt ashamed even.

I never want to hurt someone with the way I am.

I carried it around all day, thinking about how I wish I were a gentler type of person.  

A more sensitive one. 

Then

I shared it with Blake and told him how sometimes I wish I were just not so MUCH.  How I wish I didn’t overwhelm people when I express my ideas.   How I wish I were different in some way. 

And he said, “How can you be anything other than who you are?”

And that was it.

It brought me back to presence.

And acceptance. 

And grace. 

And I felt gentler already.   At least gentler with myself.  And maybe that’s the place to start.

To comment on this post, click on the header, “The place to start”

This is my body

Anytime the creative force becomes a creation, it is an incarnation.

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you.

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

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This is my body, broken for you

To comment, click on the header of this post “This is my body”

Go and do evil

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The father knew it was not going to end well, and the father funded it.

We have five children. Some of them are just natural rebels. If they are reading this, I’ll let them decide of whom I speak. Oh, to be sure, all of our children have had their moments, and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but a couple of our kids, during their teenage years, just had that terrifying, terrific quality that automatically pushed against just about everything.   There’s a part of me that loves and respects a rebel. I admire the originality of a rebel, the spirit, the fire. I am a closeted rebel. Pushing against most of the conventional ideas, but too afraid to put it out there and risk getting in trouble or displeasing someone. So I admire someone who just puts it out there and doesn’t give a fuck.

One of our rebels spent months in high school grounded.  Car keys taken away, cell phone taken away.  I tried everything I could think of to try to curb her enthusiasm for risk taking, but I was wholly unsuccessful during those years. 

When this beautiful rebel turned eighteen, halfway through her senior year in high school, she announced she was going to move out.  I tried everything I could to talk her out of it.  I told her if she did, she was “on her own” with no help from me.   She didn’t care.  She was determined to do it and pointed out to me that she would do it with or without my help. 

At the time, she was finishing up high school at a small private school.  She told me she really wanted to finish, and she hoped that I would support her in continuing to pay for the things I was currently paying for:  school, books, her cell phone, an allowance that covered gas and miscellaneous items.   Everything else she was prepared to pay for herself: her rent, utilities, food. 

I struggled.

I wondered if, by continuing to pay for the things I was paying for now, I would be enabling this choice that I disapproved of.   And, let’s be honest, I was terrified for her to try to finish school while working and living on her own.   What if she didn’t finish? 

Then, for some reason, I thought of the the story of the prodigal son.   And something I hadn’t noticed before jumped out at me.  The father gave his son all the resources necessary to go out into the world.   I’m pretty certain that the father knew his son and knew that he wasn’t going to go out and live the straight and narrow.  By the time our kids are young adults we know them pretty well.  We know which ones are the rule followers and which ones aren’t.  We know which ones are cautious and which ones aren’t, which ones learn through observation and which ones learn through the hard knocks of experience. 

And the father gave the kid money to go out and fail.

I had never thought about it that way before.  I had thought about the part of the story where the father is merciful and welcomes the son back with open arms, but I just hadn’t considered that the father GAVE the kid the resources to go sin it up.  

This paints a different picture of the divine doesn’t it? 

I mean, I was raised to believe that god is all about keeping us from sin.  “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil” 

Right?

And yet, in the prodigal story, the father basically says “yes, here you go.  I know you will be doing evil with this and here it is anyway.”  

If you’ve read many of my posts, you know I have a dubious attitude toward evil. I’m not sure that much of the stuff we’ve thrown into the evil category is evil at all.

But that aside, it’s still interesting to think that in this story, the father allowed the son to go, and knew at a minimum he would get himself in a pickle and at maximum he could harm himself. The father knew it was not going to end well, and the father funded it.

I don’t throw this story out there as a lesson in parenting, but as a thought to ponder about god. Jesus is telling us in this story what god is like.

A different perspective.

On god.

And on evil.

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Scorpion or Egg?

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maybe, just maybe…….

there are no scorpions.

“So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

Which of you fathers, if your son asks for f a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

I’ve had a strained relationship with this passage for awhile.   When I was young, it seemed simple.  Ask god boldly for what you want and god will give it to you.  At least that’s what they said in church.  But it just didn’t pan out that way in life.  I asked.  I didn’t get it.    I asked for my first marriage to be healed.  A noble request I thought.  Surely an “egg” in the example above.  I got an ugly and messy divorce.  Surely a scorpion.   What was the deal?  Maybe my faith?  Or maybe god?  Maybe the scorpion came from the devil?

Who knew?

Eventually, I just didn’t care.

I spent the next ten years learning how to let go.  Learning to live a life of surrender to whatever god had for me. 

I got way more into “Not my will but thy will be done.”

and “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be unto me as you have said”

I decided that if god was good (and I was bargaining that whatever god was - it was good), this god knew better than I what agenda should play out in my life. I stopped doing much “asking boldly.”

This was a shift that was full of freedom.  I no longer felt rage toward the god who seemed to be handing me scorpions. I no longer felt that I was in some kind of a war game with some sadistic devil. I no longer felt guilt and pressure to be more faithful and more bold in my requests.  I was released from blame and had released god and the devil from blame as well. 

But then, what to do with this story that Jesus hands me about asking and seeking and knocking? 

Maybe – the story had just been presented all wrong.  Maybe it’s not about whether or not this bad thing that happens in my life is god’s fault, or my fault, or some devil’s fault. 

Maybe the story is putting forth that the thing that seems like a scorpion is really an egg. 

If god is everything and everything is god. If god is in all, and through all and over all. Then maybe, just maybe…….

there are no scorpions.

Back to my marriage example.  I prayed for my marriage to survive.  It didn’t.  At the time it felt like a scorpion.  Guess what?  It was an egg.  I ended up with a man who was loving, and fun, and nourishing to my soul.   Just the kind of “egg” I needed. 

Maybe this verse is about trusting that whatever we are handed in life, no matter how poisonous or toxic or deadly it may appear to be is actually going to nourish and feed us in the long run.  That takes a lot of trust, because many, many times the scorpion is really, really huge. And many, many times we don’t see the egg for a really, really long time.

But….

Whether we can see it or not, maybe that “scorpion” is the holy spirit, the divine energy that is moving to make us grow. 

To comment click on the title of this post, “Scorpion or Egg”


 

The Levee

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Better to let the soul flow freely

Rivers flood their banks from time to time.  It’s destructive, but it’s the kind of destruction that brings important fertility to the surrounding land.  

People build levees in attempts to keep the river from overflowing its banks and wreaking havoc on the surrounding area, but unfortunately, building walls to try to contain the river, only causes the waters to run faster and more furiously.   The Mississippi river has overflowed its levees over and over again.  The government has supposed that the solution is to simply build bigger and bigger levees.   We tell ourselves that this is a worthwhile endeavor.  Money and time well spent. 

It creates land and spaces where people can live and grow crops and be productive.   We pat ourselves on the back for holding back the destructive flooding of the river and making spaces that are safe and productive. 

Aren’t we advanced and civilized?  Aren’t we powerful?  We can contain the mighty river.

We ignore the fact that the walls themselves give the river even more power.  Now when the river breaks its boundaries, rather than simply flooding unoccupied fields and enriching the soil; there are homes, and cities there.  And what was meant to create order and productivity leads to even greater amounts of destruction.

We are unable to accept what the river is.  The river, by nature will flood its banks.   That’s what rivers do.   To try to contain the river and tame it is to deny what is. 

To deny reality. 

To push our agenda for that space off on the river and off on nature itself.  

We might call this taming nature, but nature cannot be tamed.  Pushing it back will simply create an illusion of control that will break forth with a vengeance, causing even more destruction in the long run.  

The soul is the same. 

When we try to build walls around it, we may deceive ourselves in to thinking we have created space  where we can grow and be productive, but, the soul cannot be contained.  It will eventually overflow the walls we have built.  We might think the solution is to build bigger walls, but there is no end to the endeavor.   There is no wall high enough to contain reality, the reality of who we are.  The reality of our longings and desires.  And if they’ve been held back in such a way, they will burst forth and break down the walls we have built with the greatest of fury.  This kind of overflow won’t bring fertility, it will create more destruction.  Better to let the soul flow freely.  Sure – it will overflow its banks once in awhile. 

It will be messy. 

It will bring all kinds of fertility and new life your way. 

To comment click on the title of this post, “The Levee”


I know that my redeemer lives - it's not what you think it is.

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I trust you to kill me…

Today, I meditated on a passage of writing by Madeleine L’Engle. The passage talked about suffering and concluded with an affirmation of “I know my redeemer lives”. 

I closed my eyes and let the phrase “I know my redeemer lives” resonate in me….. 

I envisioned that I was led down a staircase and was told I would meet my living redeemer when I got to the bottom.

At the bottom of the staircase, I looked up and saw the grim reaper.   I was surprised and she said (it was a she), “you knew it would be me.”  And I did.  I thought about the leaves that fall to the ground and rot, become soil and new life.  I thought of the dead animal in the field that decays and becomes soil and new life.  I thought of all the deaths of hopes and dreams and agendas in my life and how even though they were the end of something, they were the birth of something else.   How death is redemptive.  How new life only comes when something old dies. 

Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it remains a single seed. 

I took the grim reaper’s hand.  It was warm and friendly.  Not scary at all.   This was my redeemer after all.   I asked her, “where are you going to take me?” and she said he wasn’t going to take me anywhere, I was already where I needed to be. 

We just stood there and I thought about how death and suffering are the redeemer.  I thought about how alive death and suffering are all the time.   How my redeemer lives.  

I thought about how that is the story of the crucifixion.  

As the meditation drew to a close, she moved away from me and became large.  She raised her hands and in a loud voice said,  “Behold I make all things new.”  

And she was gone. 

We are told in the Bible that the final enemy to be destroyed is death.   I always thought that this meant that death would be destroyed – as in – death would no longer exist and we would live forever.  But maybe I missed something with this way of seeing it.

After all, we are told that our spiritual lives are supposed to consist of death.   We are to be dying daily, losing our life in order to find it, picking up a cross daily, giving up everything.   How can we live in death mode if the goal is to get rid of death altogether? 

Maybe the passage about destroying the final enemy (death) is talking about the destruction of the enmity – not the destruction of death itself.  We are told that Christ destroyed enmity and reconciled all things.  If this is true, then death is no longer an enemy, but a friend.   Maybe we can see it as a redeemer, just as we see it in the crucifixion.   The sting is taken out.  Death and suffering whether figurative or even literal,  are now simply means to new life, resurrections and the making and growing of new things. 

I know that my redeemer lives.   

 

From "checkmate" by Rumi

The soul is a newly skinned hide, bloody and gross.
Work on it with manual discipline,
and the bitter tanning acid of grief,
and you’ll become lovely, and very strong.

If you can’t do this work yourself, don’t worry.
You don’t even have to make a decision,
one way or another. The Friend, who knows
a lot more than you do, will bring difficulties,
and grief, and sickness,
as medicine, as happiness,
as the essence of the moment when you’re beaten,
when you hear Checkmate, and can finally say

'I trust you to kill me.'

I know that my redeemer lives

To comment click on the header of this post “I know that my redeemer lives - it’s not what you think it is”

Be Safe

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I just wonder if all this talk about safe has any meaning.

A couple of weeks ago, I was at a conference and in every hallway was a hand sanitizer dispenser with the tagline “clean hands are safe hands!”  

It got me thinking about the word “safe”.

I was listening to an Instagram story where the woman was leading her viewers in an embodiment exercise.  In the talk, she invited the viewers to feel a certain thing in their bodies, then added, “if that feels safe for you.”  

It got me thinking about the word “safe.”

The word safe is everywhere. 

There are safe words, safe spaces, safe people, safe rooms, safe sex, radio stations that are “safe for the whole family.”

I grew up in Canada in the seventies.   When I was a kid, I just don’t remember the word safe being everywhere.  I mean, we talked about safety first, but that was in terms of hand signals when we rode our bikes all over town and looking both ways before you crossed the street.  It was nice that we didn’t talk about being safe – we just felt safe. 

Don’t get me wrong, I know that this feeling of safety we had, was just that – a feeling.   Kids were still abducted, women were assaulted, crimes were committed.  In fact, there was probably less actual safety than there is now.  More bullying, more violence enacted upon LGBTQ+ groups, more hateful speech that went unaddressed and even unnoticed.  For that matter, we didn’t even wear seatbelts! 

But, I still wonder if, even though we are perhaps more safe now than then, the more we talk about being safe, the less safe we feel.  

I mean, I didn’t think about the germs on my hands until the dispenser reminded me that my unsanitized hands were unsafe.  I like to think I’m not a germaphobe and I don’t care about the safety of my hands, but the truth is, I stuck them under the spout and de-germed them just about every time I passed one of those dispensers.  

I thought about the Instagram lady and wondered about her choice of words “if that feels safe for you”.   It struck me as odd.   I was expecting, “if that feels comfortable for you.” ---- but not safe. 

If a feeling in my own body is unsafe, what does that mean for me?   That I am unsafe and a danger to myself?  That my emotional and physical responses are unsafe?   This seems like a set up for me to be living with a perpetrator of sorts every moment of every day – me. 

I just wonder if all this talk about safe has any meaning. 

Are we really safe?

Were my hands safe after the sanitizer?  Could I still touch something and pick up a nasty virus?

Are safe spaces safe? 

And what is a safe person?   Obviously, persons who assault us, rape us, abuse us or otherwise harm us are unsafe.  But is a person who says something we don’t want to hear unsafe?  Is a person who hurts our feelings unsafe?  Is a person who leaves us unsafe?  

I mean, is there such a thing as a safe person?  A person who won’t ever hurt us?

Are safe people actually safe? 

See, the thing about safe is ….  it just doesn’t exist - no matter how we might try to protect ourselves from the dangers out there, the people who might hurt us, the germs, the words, the feelings, the drunk drivers, the deranged criminals, the list goes on and on.

So sure, we should work to make the world a better place.  A place where there is less assault, less crime, less harm.  

But, maybe the word “safe” to describe this world just creates a false expectation.

Because….

We’re just not safe. 

And it seems to me the more we talk about safe, the less safe we feel.  

To comment on this post click on the header “Be Safe”

Prophecy?

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The earth lies polluted
under its inhabitants


The earth dries up and withers,
    the world languishes and withers;
    the heavens languish together with the earth.
The earth lies polluted
    under its inhabitants;
for they have transgressed laws,
    violated the statutes,
    broken the everlasting covenant.
Therefore a curse devours the earth,

    and its inhabitants suffer for their guilt;
therefore the inhabitants of the earth dwindled,
    and few people are left. 

Isaiah 24:4-6


To comment click on the header “Prophecy?”