Boxed-Out

To be gifted by God. I now stand with one leg outside of the box. The view from here is strange, new, refreshing. My world has taken on a new dimension I am now more aware of than before. To be gifted by God. Wow. What an honor. Each one of us is given a specific spiritual gift from the Creator. Paul talks about these gifts in Romans and 1 Corinthians: "wise counsel, clear understanding, simple trust, healing the sick, miraculous acts, proclamation, distinguishing between spirits, tongues, interpretation of tongues."* These are just to name a few. Some we encounter on a daily basis in the presence of certain people and others such as miraculous acts, distinguishing between spirits, and interpretation of tongues we don't recognize or even have knowledge about. Or at least I didn't. Until two days ago, I hadn't realized the magnitude of the box in which had been limiting the actuality of God in my mind. The box I had built with my human perceptions and with the help of the religious society I have grown up in. The box grows larger each day. In this instance, the box had been limiting my awareness of actions done by the Giver's hand such as the apportionment of gifts. In the aftermath of the Fall, we seek to find our box, something defining, tangible. We seek to put names to things and ourselves, but when we run out of names, we are afraid-thus building ourselves a box. Defining God within our box of tangible and named actions and attributes is a safe and predictable picture. When it comes to sharing with others about God it is pretty easy to scrounge around inside our box and pick out a few attractive pictures and stories, but when it comes to our personal relationship, our ability to meditate on the Creator's voice is muffled, our box becomes claustrophobic. The Creator and the gifts of his hands aren't in a box. Looking beyond our needs for definement we begin to see the gifts of others and how great the possibilities are for our own state of being, because God isn't fully manifested in a box, but in the power and beauty of being Creator. It's something I fail to express in words. I've sat here for 7 minutes trying to and I can't. it's a bit abstract I confess, but just stop and think of the wonders of God's power beyond what we are capable of naming! Beyond our box!

One side of my box was shattered two days ago by a person who shared with me their gift. And it hit me after listening for an hour about their gift: our impact on the world hinges on our awareness and ability to take ownership and grasp the gift the Creator is etching our names into. Embracing it we become a manifestation of Light. Embracing it we stand with both feet outside of the box.

*Referencing Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 12.

Rain

(written on May 22, 2012)

It's one of those days when the rain is pouring so hard you feel safe and secure and completely content to be inside, but not because of indifference or fear of the rain, but you feel like the rain is matching your heart in rhythm and action. Some would then ask, "Why is your heart sad?" And I would reply simply, "It's not, I just feel safe." The earth is soaking in its deliciousness as does my soul. The deep colored clouds reflect the fading light as water streams and pools below and I rejoice. I rejoice for the clouds are about to break in my own life and relationships for the storm has been here for awhile - passively waiting...waiting...always waiting, never breaking. Somehow I know when the clouds do break there will be pain, there will be understanding, there will be sorrow, but there will be healing. How do I know this? Peace whispers to me as a crashing wave resounds on the sand, but I feel peace all the same as it says, "You are here for such a time as this...I brought you here...I gave you understanding and perception for a reason." My heart swells with anticipation of the risk, but holding onto the truth: good will come. It always does. Good will come. My heart sings and yearns for that time of good! Jesus, heal quickly. Courage to speak. Wisdom to listen. Please, be my Strength. I don't have any more. The rain is just a trickle now and the sky is still dense with color, but I rejoice for the rising of the sun in the morning. Confidently I will wait with hope for the morning, knowing it will come, knowing it will be glorious, delicate, and beautiful, and life-giving. I'm holding on and I won't let go, I'm on my knees, please use me now. I don't know why you've given me eyes to see, but Jesus be the healing power instead of me.

Fill Me Up

How many times have you sat in your room, a sanctuary, or gone outside and have actually, genuinely talked to God out loud before? Where your voice is the only thing audible in the silence that surrounds you. I don't know if I could even count the times that I have done this on one hand. There is so much vulnerability that happens when I converse with my Creator which for me makes it so much harder to do. When you finally break down the barrier of doubt and fear it is like emptying your soul, baring your heart, painting all that is within your being onto a canvas for the Alpha and Omega of the universe. And all I can say when this happens is, "Fill me up." I'm empty of myself. Fill me up.