Grace, Mercy, and a Bare Cot

There are times in life where the foundation of who you are or perhaps it's the culmination of what you think you are or what you are supposed to believe in is revealed in a light that is sent swiftly down an avenue of doubtful thought before it finally arrives to a destination of clarity in a deafening and pronounced "boom!" It's a concrete clarity of a ascribed belief that just seconds before was mixed with the powder of an dusty knowledge and the water of fresh enlightenment. And performs this perfect marriage of old and new and it somehow inherently just precisely snaps into place somewhere deep down in the recesses of your soul. And for the first time in your life....you just know.

If you could follow that fancy paragraph above, it's exactly what happened to me last night. I dreamt a dream unlike any other. It was real in the deepest of senses. Every detail was in HD, every smell, and every everything was real. And that's when mercy, grace, and a cot became real.

So if you can, follow me on this short interesting journey of a dream........"count down 3...2...1...your eyes are feeling droopy...relax........deep breathing"......I'm just messing....scroll down to the next paragraph, Mr/Ms Gullible.

I was in France. I know it because of the infamous tower that protrudes proudly in the sky. I was apart of a group that was studying to take the NCLEX to gain certification and also to pass my upcoming nursing exam. Several of us begin to collaborate on testing ideas, strategies, and where we would being taking our exam. Just as we wrapped up, a group of state officials kicked down the door and detain the "collaborators." We were dragged into separate holding cells. I heard a gunshot and I knew that my friend Steve got it. Then they came to my cell. I distinctly remember they saying, "He got it quick and painless....but we have different plans for you. You shall die slow." I was thrown into a drab, pale blue room with gray carpet, a tiny window, and a brown cot and a wooly blanket.

Months went by without real food except a greasy white gruel which was served under the door occasionally. My body withered. Fat receded while ribs made their presence known. I lay on my cot curled in a fetal position day after day.....wishing that the last thing that I'd ever heard was a gunshot instead of a slow melodic song entitled "killing me softly" or slowly. Long dream short, I remember in my dream that I was going to just give up and will myself to die. I made a cursory glance one more time around my hell hole and I happen to look left and saw magically a mini fridge. I opened it and there was........peppermint coffee creamer. That's all. I drank it. I drank it all. It gave me a glimmer of hope.

Soon my door flung open and the kindest softest woman came in and said "we went to bat for you. You deserved to die but we got you out. You are free and you don't owe us anything." I broke down crying as the constant battle of death was over. I was free.

I slowly opened my eyes....I had awakened. My room was the same. I was in Louisiana and not France. I wasn't facing death but I had felt impending death. I knew exactly how it felt. That immense hopeless feeling that blackholes life.

And right in that moment, I felt God nudge me and say, "And that's what my mercy and grace is like. It frees you. You owe nothing." And right then and there mentally, emotionally, metaphysically, and on every level of being I understood grace and mercy.

We grow up in church at least some of us. We hear words and cliches bantered around and for many they are hollow and meaningless. "Mercy and grace are good things...blah blah blah." But yet it never really has meaning. They are just old stale books just collecting dust but every once in awhile whether it's life or a weird real dream...everything just clicks into place and you go through a journey that shakes you precisely into place and makes real those words.

And they'll become no longer hollow to you but perhaps you'll find yourself with tears rolling hotly down your cheeks at 5:56 AM...and you'll pray, "God thank you so much for your mercy and grace. Thank you for salvation and your extreme love. Thank you for taking my place on that cot...or better yet... that blood stained tree." and God's replies..."that's what my grace and mercy is like. You owe me nothing."

A Walk I Wished I Had......

I always looked on with admiration upon the elderly in church that are moved deeply to tears in worship and still after countless years trembled under the unction of the spirit. The elderly that knew how to pray with their strained and crackled voice that would reach heaven and shatter the heart of God and caused even Him to move. I always wondered what kind of experience or what did they have that I somehow lacked that kept them going strong.

I had the privilege to conduct my clinicals in a nursing home where there are many characters ranging from the creepy old man to the hoarder that hoards/steals everything in sight to the sweet wonderful ever-forgetful Gam-Gam.

One particular couple caught my attention as they were man and wife. As I enter their room, my eyes wandered around the room and I could see the worn Bible by the nightstand and knew that it had been used a lot. The wife was riddled with cancer and was in severe pain such that she could only pray in a pained garbled-shrieked voice for the pain to end.

The man who was gradually losing cognition and normal thought process would cry out to God in the only way he knew which was an anguished voice pleading with God to heal his wife. Day after day this would ensue. I hated walking down that long hall as the yells reverberated off the walls because it was heartbreaking. My clinicals eventually ended and I never knew what became of that couple.

After graduation and soon employed at this place, I walk cautiously down that same hall hoping not to hear the wretched cries and I knocked on the door and there seated was the same man. My eyes wandered around the room to notice an empty bed where his wife had been. I glanced back over to the man who doesn't say anything. I hand him his meds and he swallows them and I closed the door. I hesitate leaving and I listen for a couple of seconds and I hear this garbled, thick tongued, conversation that was indistinguishable. Pausing for a few minutes, I am able to make out this soft, tender, meaningful prayer......a prayer thanking God for His blessings, for taking his wife to heaven, and there is this wonderful sweet aura that flows from under the door.

Its in this moment that I begin to think that here is a man whose mind is gone, just lost his wife, lives in a nursing home, doesn't get to attend church, in constant pain, and the list goes on and yet past his steep cognitive decline is this deep fiery longing and passion to seek the face of God that is sustained by decades of relationship with God.

It puts me to shame. I want a relationship like that. I want a prayer life like that to if my mind/life is stripped of a normal life that somewhere deep inside the power of the Lord is manifested.

I guess I'm trying to say that life is grand but those things fade. Minds are sharp but those things grow dull. Bodies are strong but those things grow weak.....and saggy. Like the Bible says, its only those things that are done for Him that will stand. I find that very true as the man seated in his chair, stripped of mind but every day a garbled familiar voice reaches the heavens.....and God and him talk.

I found "True Love" in the Nursing Home

True love. This phrase or wording often is overused and abused. I likened it to be hollow and empty with a Hollywood-esque fake feel to it. It feels fake because so many times we have the perfect vantage point to watch countless marriages or relationships crumble even under the auspices of "true love."

This "happily ever after, go live in a castle" or prince charming or Cinderella story has been beaten into us as little kids and retold to our kids as we become adults. Even now, its just the idiotic redundancy of far-fetched romance movies that do nothing but reinforce this distorted view of "true love" and what it really means.

Well, I found true love. I discovered it while not actively participating in it if that makes any sense. But I ran face first into it as I walked down the hallway with the faint smell of urine in the air of my local nursing home. As I made my rounds, I noticed three elderly men that looked nice and well groomed. You could tell that they were not residents. I watched them as they came each morning and dutifully walked to respective rooms.

Inside these rooms, lay definitely not Sleeping Beauty but an ugly grotesque fleshly shell of their spouse eaten with cancer or one whose brain is controlled by the jerky spastic movements that only Parkinson's can. They no longer able to function nor talk. They wet themselves as all bodily function is lost. Its a sad horrible picture. But everyday they come.

They come and check their respective wives for sores, problems, and they talk to them even though they probably cant hear him. His deep concerned look mixed with genuine tender love strikes at the heart of me. I watch as he comforts her with his soothing familiar voice when shes scared. I watch as he pushes her in a wheel chair up and down the hallways relentlessly all day to keep her calm and busy and her shaking at bay. I watch as he stands guard with familiar maroon coffee cup in hand and he witnesses firsthand helplessly as his Love withers away....and it's in that moment I realized that's "true love."

There is a pureness about his love. No agenda. No ulterior motive. Just this calm, relentless, tender, pure love shared between mates. He doesn't ever leave her. He loves her. He still is in love with her. She is still the Apple of his eye even as her body literally breaks down in front of his eyes and she's still "buttercup or beautiful" to him.

That's real true love. Seeing one at their worst and loving them even the more. So while the movies are fun and romantic...Ill take the boring, urine smelling, nursing home love any day because that's the love I want and that's the man I want to be.....always there with that unmistakable tender loving gaze standing guard over my true love.

Whew, what a Close Call!

As I walked yesterday with nail gun in hand, I tripped and came close to pulling the trigger with the gun pointed inches from my heart. If the tip had pressed against my chest....well I'd rather not think about that.

Reflecting back to when the summers were still magical and Cowboys & Indians still waged war in my neighborhood, I recall one instance where in order to gain entrance into the "club," we had to pass a test that consisted of deflecting a bamboo pole that had a sheared metal tip to it.

Well long story made short, I missed the on-coming pole and it hit me and boinked off inches from my eye leaving a bloody gash.

Many times I think that life is a life made up of inches. It's scary and quite often I shudder reflecting back at the thought that if literally had my life been a mere 1-2 inches in either place that I may not be here today.

It's instances like this that vividly remind me of the mercies of God that are renewed daily. His sovereign grace that covers our bone headed mistakes and careless acts.

One early morning last year as I headed to work, I looked left to clear the lane and pressed the accelerator to mosey on out. I just happened to glance to the right just in time to capture the on-coming path of a mammoth construction truck passing a school bus at a break neck speed. Yes, it zoomed by and missed me by mere inches. Whew....still shudder at that one...but

It's instances like this that vividly remind me that God is real. That His care and concern goes beyond a dogmatic fidelity owed by a mythical ancient mandate.

And the stories could go on and on....gasoline, fire, a bunch of dumb boys......but heres the last one:

One rainy night in the 5th grade, I jumped of a flight of stairs, slipped, and bit through the bottom of my lip and my chin was busted apart thus requiring 21 stitches to fix.

But in the meantime, I went in to shock and severe amnesia for 2 days.

Lost completely out of my mind with only a faint recall of memories.....but

It's instances like this that vividly bring forth the awesome nature and redemptive power that God beholds....His nature, His awesomeness, His majesty....

The next time you say "Whew, was that a close call!!"

I say "Nah, that was God!!"

Insecurities for sell!!!

I read somewhere that "Love makes people do crazy things" but Id say "insecurities make people do crazier things."

Insecurities. We all have them. They are indelibly etched into the fabric of our life often through genes made physical or the tale of a long fought battle made manifest by emotional scars and wounds.


They are markings. Our personal Scarlet Letter that announces publicly to the world and measure the mark where we fall short. These markings sometimes depicted literally across our flesh but sometimes often figuratively in ways not seen are the insecurities that squashes away potential, seeps poison into the beauty of life, and squeezes dead the happiness from our lives.

Its the fear of denial that has us quitting before we even muster up the courage to try. The lack of confidence with issues that have no direct bearing with our talent or skill but yet keeps restraints and chains us to feeling worthless.

From cup size to nose size, from hair loss to hopes of weight loss these physical blemishes to past mistakes to emotional longings or scars and just the whole array of things that plague us into self hate and I say its just dumb, destructive, and futile.

You are beautiful! You are pretty! You are someone! Lacking in one area does not define you!

Yet we long and yearn to fix these things in hopes that we would feel better and have a sense of worth and normalcy to just fit in. While for some these are fixable the sobering fact is that most of these insecurities no matter the amount of fat lost, hair gained, and plastic surgery possible will still be there....

Sure you can lose weight, grow muscle, and augment some body parts but at the end of the day more times than not the same feeling is there...and that is the lack of self worth.

So whats the answer? Well the answer my dear friends is found in........ your identity in Christ! It is not found in yourself. Your worth, life, and everything in between is not made by yourself nor is it yourself but you are but a small microcosm of God.

God loves you dearly despite our shortcomings, physical blemishes, and just screwed up lives. He wants you! He desires you and all the baggage that you have. It doesn't matter our social status, money, looks, fame, or anything but to understand that my confidence is found in God and His love is enough and covers every problem or emotional hurt that I have....is just comforting and assuring.

So this isn't a excuse not to run or workout but it is a reason to find acceptance, love, and hope in God.

Some of the most confident and wonderful people I know are not the prettiest or have a set of perfect teeth...they just have a understanding of who loves them and their desire is to please Him...and not you and me :)

What in the World is Holiness??

What in the world is holiness? Is it how we dress? How we look? How we act?

Sitting in a sermon not too long ago it was frankly stated that our perceived concept of "holiness" would be the magical Golden Willy Wonka ticket into heaven.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, pull what remaining hair I had, strip my clothes and garner the "sack-cloth and ashes" attire.

How arrogant and ignorant of us!!! For so long we have operated under the auspices of man conceived "holiness" with the sprinkling of convenient scripture that hermeneutically are wrong and quoted out of context.

I fear that we have idolized standards and transposed it into a physically self appointed holiness. We throw scripture around recklessly to support our ill-conceived notions of what we think God wants, how He wants it, and what He is pleased with.

God clearly states that we should have no other idols before us. Isn't it ironic that we place standards aka holiness equal with God and judge the merit of one's salvific relationship with God based on that? Isn't that idolatry??

Now before anyone has an heart attack and questions where I stand on standards: I would say I believe in standards, understand their purpose, and believe its conducive to a Christian walk with Jesus Christ. I love modesty in ALL things as the by-product of relationship with the product, Jesus Christ. But I have problem not with the requirement of it but with the priority of where we place it.

Holiness is not the physical manifestation of what or how one dresses or even possesses in ones house. Lets cut the spiritual facade folks!!...those are standards. Holiness is taking on the spirit of God. His character, his ways, etc. Becoming like Him not through dress but through a deepened spirituality.

It pains me. It frustrates me. It causes me angst. When I see people touting the banner of holiness based off of dress, standards, etc as the way or path to heaven with Jesus Christ and His infinite mercy treated as an accessory....Holiness is not a lifestyle or dress code BUT IT IS AN ATTRIBUTE OF GOD!!! It is a deepened and heightened awareness and cloaking of ones spirituality with the nature and wholeness of God better yet a saturation of the spirit of God that then influences and dictates ones life.

The problem that belies many Pentecostals and/or Christians is that your identity is wrapped in your dress. Your validation and spiritual DNA is coded not through Jesus Christ but yet by your "holiness."

Therefore, we are shallow as Christians. We are immature and yet still babes in Christ! We don't desire more of Christ other than the intiality of our conversion. We cannot get over outer-court living and surface level teachings because it is our baby blanket of identity.

Because going deeper in God lends wisdom and knowledge which will require sacrifice, a challenge to our notion of spirituality, and thorough knowledge of God. Accompanying all that is a responsibility and fidelity to anewed action....thru Christ...and we dont want that....we like surface level teachings, the reaffirmation of our identity...and our baby blanket of comfort.

Thus we are reduced to glorifying the regurgitation of holiness and whoop and holler about our identity through dress instead of the beautiful nature of Christ.

The million dollar question presented is that if stripped of your clothing or your "holiness"...not that so you were naked but we stripped you of your "identity" wrapped in dress/holiness....

Would you look discernably different than the world? Because if dress...oh I meant your "holiness" is the only thing that separates you from the world...then my friend you are lost, blind, and confused.

The crux is stated here...that the mark of a Christian is not looking different.....but it is the innate nature of your soul and spirit that is changed thus markedly changing ones appearance...and that's true holiness folks....the taking on of Jesus Christ and the fulness Him!

My Neighbour's Garage: Too much Junk in da Trunk

Someone recently told me that I am a little to confrontational in my postings and the message tends to be a little harsh which I promptly told her that Jesus and his message was harsh yet true but I digress.....I shall write with a little more tenderness....where was I? Oh yes my neighbour's garage.....

The Lord speaks to me in weird ways...sometimes its through deep thought, sola scriptura, or real life examples that become a spiritual metaphor with a deep meaning or spiritual inclination and this was one of those instances:

As I was cleaning the yard with my dad which involve me throwing sticks and branches into a pile (I thought of them as spears lol) like King Leonidas from 300 without all the muscles of course but I happen to glance next door at all the junk in their garage and disgustedly thought, "Clean your yard and garage up, you degenerates!" If I could paint a picture, their garage was filled with junk but like a piece of carved wood there was a carved niche of space in all their junk and crap that barely fit their car. Not to mention their house is painted a weird light neon/avocado green....but..

Immediately the Lord spoke and said, "That is how some people are. Their lives are messy, transparent, and one can see how screwed up their life very plainly. On the other hand, there are many people that portray a clean house, a precised and edged yard, and depict a good picture but if I were to walk down the corridors and hallways of their "house" I would find dust, cluttered closets, packed basements, and stuff shoved hidden out of sight under their bed."

Then He impressed me with this thought. "I desire the messy, dirty, and screwed up people much more than the seasoned saint who deceives themself with their coverings. The messed up people are easier to work with and not inherently deceitful nor live under the guise of false pretenses or under the self assuring illusions of perceived salvation."

Wow...talk about getting whammed! Immediately, my life needed a reality check and I prayed Lord forgive me! I told my dad and he had no interest because his basement is rather cluttered....so he muttered something that sounded between a grunt and "yeahh thats good" and continued on his way.

But I was left standing with the thought that I don't want to serve God under false pretenses or with illusions of holiness....because while I may look holy, clean, or pure...in reality I am wicked, deceitful, and my heart faileth me.....the heart is deceitful...who can know it? the scripture says.... and also judging people from my perch is really easy to do. God purge me from judging others and their life...but let me help them and serve them.

So while this isn't an excuse for you to live like a pig but it is a call for us as Christians to check our self. To make sure the corridors and hallways of our hearts are pure and match the outside appearance of our neat and clean "house" aka body.

For if the body and outside is pure and exudes "holiness" but the heart is wicked then what does a man profit? I say nothing.....for he is deceiving his own self into destruction,......