The Lord's Glory Reflected

I woke up last Sunday morning feeling like I was weighted down under a heavy blanket of shame. I didn't have a lot of words to put to it then. It felt mostly wrapped around this sense of failure that has been the dominant battle for me lately. But there was also a sense that at least a small part of my shame was healthy and that part of it was touching the edge of true brokenness.

I feel overwhelmed by how twisted everything is, it feels so twisted that I don't think I can even begin to separate the good shame from the bad. I feel so desperately in need of others to help me sort through this twisted mess right now.

It happened that it was also communion Sunday at church, and although I wasn't sure what part of my shame was healthy and what part was twisted, I felt able to partake of the Eucharist because I knew it is all covered, every twisted thought and feeling.

Yesterday I was looking up verses in the Bible on shame and somehow (the Spirit's work I am sure) ended up in II Corinthians reading about the Spirit instead.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

II Cor. 3:17-18 (NIV)

I don't feel much freedom right now, instead I feel like a slave to my struggles and failures. Perhaps that is the bad shame that I feel: the failures, the unhappiness, the hiding and the withdrawal.

I feel like if I uncover my face only my failures will be reflected, but these verses say that when I uncover my face it will reflect the glory of God. I wonder, are they really two separate faces or will the glory of God be reflected in the failures and the misery? Is it really not about looking a certain way but rather about being seen?

These verses also say that we cannot be transformed into God's likeness without being seen. That is quite a rude awakening to someone to just wants to hide.

In Memory of Sassy and Albie

I recently lost the two pets that I would say I loved the most. Neither dog actually belonged to me but there was definitely a mutual attachment between each of them and me.

SASSY POYNER
Sassafras "Sassy" belonged to the Poyner family, but she was always excited to see me when I stopped by. She wouldsit at the edge of the room and bark or whine until I gave her some attention. She liked to sit for periods time in my lap and always wanted her belly rubbed. No matter the time of day she was always hopeful that I would take her for a walk, even if I was leaving the house at midnight she would be at the front door looking at me with questioning eyes.

I remember the time that I stopped by on a Sunday afternoon to talk with Sue. Someone had locked the front door so I wasn't able to enter the house. Sassy heard me and when I left started crying. Sue had been napping and thought something was wrong with Sassy. She got up just in time to see my car going around the corner.

My favorite memory of Sassy has got to be the first time that I watched her after the Poyner's got a cat. I had bought Molly a cat toy that hung from a stick and had spent some time playing with her. When I was finished I had laid the toy on the coffee table with the string hanging over the edge. Sassy was so jealous that she went over and batted the toy with her paw just like the cat had been doing. Too funny!

ALBIE GUCKENBERG
Albie was my parent's dog. He was definitely a character unto himself. As a daschund he was suppose to be territorial and fierce, but with me he was a marshmallow. If they mentioned that Aunt Dawn was coming he would go spastic with excitement.

When I would get to their house he would want to get to me as fast as he could. They would put him on the couch next to me, he would come over and try to lick my face. He would expose his stomach for a rub and roll his eyes up at me with total affection. Lee never could figure this strange behavior of Albie's. It was quite unusual for a daschund.

You Were On The Cross

I meant to post this song on Friday but never got around to it. It feels a bit late and a bit odd to do it on Easter morning. Someone has taken pictures from The Passion of Christ and made a YouTube video. Just remember that HE HAS RISEN or all would be lost. Happy Resurrection Sunday!

Lost, everything is lost
And everything I've loved before is gone
Alone like the coming of the frost
And a cold winter's chill in my stony heart

And where were You when all that I've hoped for?
Where You when all that I've dreamed?
Came crashing down in shambles around me
You were on the cross

Pain, could you take away the pain?
If I find someone to blame, would it make my life seem easier?
Alone, all my friends are asleep
And I can't find anyone to stay awake with me

Where were You when sin stole my innocence?
Where were You when I was ashamed?
Hiding in a life, I wish, I never made

You were on the cross, my God, my God, alone, alone
You were on the cross, You died for us, alone, alone
You were on the cross, victorious, alone, alone

You were there in all of my suffering
And You were there in doubt and in fear
I'm waiting on the dawn to reappear

You Were On The Cross, sung by Matt Maher

I'm Still Yours

I've really been struggling the last few weeks and in the process I have been moving further and further from people. I haven't gone to church in four weeks and as much as I want to be there Easter morning I still haven't decided if I will choose to go on Sunday. I had been attending faithfully in the weeks prior even though I didn't really feel like being there. When I was there I felt disconnected, and I often left after the service feeling more desperate than when I came. It feels like nobody seems to understand how much I am struggling these days.

I know that not going to church is a bad choice for me, but I am wondering now if this might be a chance for me to see some of the more deeply embedded lies that I believe. I feel so angry. I feel very angry at people closest to me. I'm not even sure what it is I want from them. I would leave if I could, I would walk away from my church and my friends, but I can't bring myself to do it. I can't hurt them that way no matter what I am feeling in the midst of this crappy life. I know they love me and I also know God loves me. This should be comforting but it only seems to make me more frustrated. I have no case, at least not one the stands up. I feel great turmoil in it all.

I was listening to a new Kutless album this morning and I heard a song called, "I'm Still Yours" that I really liked. It feels hard to keep my hands lifted to Him but I feel like there is little else I can do.

You can listen to the song on YouTube:

If You washed away my vanity
If You took away my words
If all my world was swept away
Would You be enough for me?
Would my beating heart still sing?

If I lost it all, Would my hands stay lifted
To the God who gives and takes away
If You take it all, This life You've given
Still my heart will sing to You

When my life is not what I expected
The plans I made have failed
When there's nothing left to steal me away
Will You be enough for me?
Will my broken heart still sing?

If I lost it all, Would my hands stay lifted
To the God who gives and takes away
If You take it all, This life You've given
Still my heart will sing to You

Even if You take it all away
You'll never let me go
Take it all away, But I still know

That I'm Yours, I'm still Yours
Oh, I'm Yours, I'm still Yours
I'm still Yours

I'm Still Yours, sung by Kutless

Our Place

In order that we should realize the distance between ourselves and God, it was necessary that God should be a crucified slave. For we do not realize distance except in the downward direction. It is much easier to imagine ourselves in the place of God the Creator than in the place of Christ crucified.

Waiting for God, Simone Weil

Twitchy Puddin'head O'Mama's 45th Birthday

It seems incredible weird to say that I am 45 today. I feel older, my body aches more and so does my soul. I am not really sure how I feel going into another St. Patrick's Day birthday.

One of my friends posted a "Capstan Leprechaun" name on facebook. So I googled it and found out that my name was Twitchy Puddin'head O'Mama. That pretty much sums up how I feel today. You can just call me Puddin'head for short.

Crazy Heart

I haven't seen the movie Crazy Heart yet, but I was recently reading the USA Today's review of the movie. It reads like this:

Upside: Bridges won the Oscar for best actor for his compelling performance. The infectous score includes the Oscar-winning song The Weary Kid.
Downside: The story of redemption is too familiar.

How can the story of redemption become too familiar? Why would anyone tire of it?

Perhaps they are talking about a different type of redemption: the redemption of yourself from your own mistakes. But is that really your own work? Doesn't all redemption come from the same source? God?

Doesn't a good redemption story remind us all that we need redeeming? Perhaps this critic doesn't see a need for his own redemption; perhaps he tires at being told once again that somethings in his life may need redeeming.

But am I any better at seeing my need for redemption? Not always, that's why I like a good story of redemption. So after this review I really hope I get to see Crazy Heart soon.