UNSHAKEABLE REMAINS

The day it happened, all was bright.

As she reflected on the day’s beauty, the warmth of the sun soaked her skin. She delighted in days like these. Not only does the world become brighter, more alive, but so do her dreams, her activities, her work, her relationships. She looked around at the little world she has built for herself. She smiles and takes a deep breath of the cool air. Yes, it’s good.

Despite the apparent perfection that day, she could not ignore a familiar nagging deep within her; a lingering ebb and flow of a feeling she has never been able to pinpoint. Something was not right. Yet to confront the feeling would be to lose the moment. She chose to push the feeling to the side.

She heard it first in the distance. A slow rumble. Could there be a storm approaching? But how? The sky was still so blue…

Another loud blast resounded and echoed off the mountains, closer to her now. This was not a storm. Her heart finally began to pound with a curious fear. Anxiously, she scanned her surroundings as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening. The blasts were coming closer, louder, faster, and she could do nothing but stand in the shock of complete and utter terror.

Almost as if in a dream, the essence of herself and her world was presented before her. She saw all that she loved; things she herself had built and created. Scattered among them were lies she believed. There were fears she was giving into. She saw the things she was holding on to. She saw the things she should have kept.

There was no time for comprehension. No time to react. She closed her eyes, covered her face and head in her arms, and waited until the destruction passed through.

The nagging feeling she couldn’t pinpoint transformed into a voice, first a steady whisper, growing, reverberating up and out of her until it filled the air around her.

This is not of Me!

The things she loved and built explode from their foundations.

This is not of Me!

 All she held on to is loosened and ripped from her grasp.

This is not of Me!

Lies and fears are leveled to the ground. 

And then all becomes still, silent.

Her ears ring as if a bomb had gone off. The world has gone black – she can see nothing around her. Has she gone blind?

She tastes the salty mix of blood and tears on her lip. As she lifts her hands up to feel her head, the pain of her bruised body sets in. As the dust and smoke clear, so does her vision. The horizon ahead reveals a leveled landscape. All that once was is gone.

Like her shaking, the ground still trembles beneath her feet in the traces of aftershock.

Beneath her feet.

She is still standing.

---

A man walks up beside her, but she did not see where he came from. He says nothing to her as he starts to clear away the rubble around her.

Finally, He looks at her.  With teary eyes He says, “I’m sorry, child. This had to be done. “

She cannot muster up the strength to respond; she continues to watch Him work.

“I would like to rebuild this with you. “

She takes a step forward.

She takes a step toward Him, unshakeable.

Only she and Him remain.

SINNERS AND SAINTS IV

When you are so deeply rooted, although all that has once surrounded you has crumbled to the ground, you remain standing, bruised and bloodied perhaps from the violent debris, but still upright, as you gaze out upon the flattened and desolate destruction of what once was, unshakeable.

All may be stripped, but deeply rooted, one thing will always remain, the glimpse and hope of a Kingdom that will never fall.

GRACE AND GOLDEN RETRIEVERS

There are a lot of different theories as to why God created the animals with whom we share this earth, but I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out the real reason. Because He knew how stupid and stubborn humans would be.

Okay, wait. Just let me explain. We don’t give animals enough credit for how much they know and understand - especially in regards to the spiritual realm. After all, God created them, too. I think He gave them an extra dose of heavenly wisdom so that maybe, hopefully, cross your fingers, we could learn something from them. But we have to be willing to watch and listen. 

The other day I had a wedding to attend, and as a result I ended up leaving the golden retriever I am currently caring for at home for a lot longer than I intended. As the minutes ticked by and the hours passed, the guiltier I felt. She’s probably so lonely. Is she hungry? Did she think I left forever? I think I forgot to leave a light on for her. She is probably super mad at me. 

I returned home with my chest heavy with guilt. But when I opened the door, I was greeted by the happiest, bounciest dog in the world, her whole body wagging with her tail, jumping up to give me kisses. It was as if she was just meeting me for the first time. I was instantly relieved by her massive display of affection. And then the word GRACE came flooding into my mind, and as I looked into those big brown eyes I swear I saw the face of God. He spoke to me and said, “I AM like this. This is how I love you.”

I tend to forget the vastness of God’s grace and love for me. I tend to put limits on it, which only produces that sense of guilt and failure. I want to return Home, but I am afraid of what I will find. The truth is, it doesn’t matter what we’ve done, and it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been gone. God will stay Home and wait for each and every one of us. And when we finally get there, He will greet us with a wagging tail and a sloppy wet kiss. 

So the next time you leave your dog alone for a long time, and they greet you with a ferocious love – know that our God is doing the same thing.

AS YOU ARE →

Edited and Published by Recenter Press, 2017.

The church sings David Crowder's hymn "Come As You Are” together in worship and I am suddenly overcome with the profound weight of grace in this statement. For me, it’s easy to quickly pawn off these sentiments onto other people: Come as you are, it doesn't matter where you're at, you won't be judged here. I accept you, you are forgiven, you are loved. But this time, as I learn to live amongst the push and pull of both worldly and self-induced double standards, I let this sense of acceptance wash over my own guilt, my own confusion, hurt, pride, fear, and shortcomings. 
 
Today, I am the one in desperate need of this reminder.
 
Today, the voices of Fear and Disappointment take my hand and pull me to the left, saying, "Kaitlyn, come this way. It’s safe over here. Your dreams will never come to fruition. You will never be able to make them happen. You have failed. It’s not in you.”
 
I look to the right as my other hand is pulled in the opposite direction, the voices of Pain and Confusion saying, "Yes, Kaitlyn, come this way. You deserved all that has unfolded. Everything you had is now gone — the people, the opportunities, the experiences. You care so much, but for what? Put your guard back up and you won’t get hurt again.”
 
I wrestle as my arms are pulled in both directions. I am bound and unmoving. It can be easy to give in and justify the voices on both sides of this internal argument; to allow them to become a truth about me. Sometimes they mean well. My arms get tired. I long so badly to be free of them. If I'm feeling strong, I might try to stay and fight them off for a while. Yet the more I try to fight them off, the more I have to struggle.
 
But what would happen if I stopped paying attention to these adversaries? That's all they want — attention. If only I would stop struggling, stop giving life to the voices that pull me in multiple directions. 
 
I squint my eyes as they catch something straight ahead in the distance. It has been there the whole time, but I have been too distracted to notice. This voice is not a forceful thing; it quietly and patiently beckons us. It’s softer, sweeter. It weeps as it watches the inner struggle against the deceptions that seek to entwine us. 
 
Why do I so quickly forget that the real Voice, the real Truth, is straight ahead of me? As I center my gaze upon it, it gently says, "Come as you are, it doesn't matter where you're at, you won't be judged here. I accept you, you are forgiven, you are loved."
 
The grip on my wrists loosen.

Even if our arms are being pulled to the right and to the left, may we continue to walk forward with our eyes, ears, and hearts fixed straight ahead, like the gaze of a Son who looked to his Father as his arms were pulled to the right and to the left, hands nailed down to a tree, three days away from liberation.

SINNERS AND SAINTS III

The death of one kernel allowed for the birth of many more seeds. If it didn't die, it would remain only one kernel. It wouldn't be as near as effective if it didn't experience death. It wouldn't have been transformed if it hadn't fallen, been broken, been crushed into pieces. What if we allowed ourselves to experience death like one of these kernels? What would happen if we entered into our own brokenness. Allowed ourselves to feel true loss? What would happen if we faced the pain, and embraced the crushing blow of things that need to die within us? Let your losses transform you. Let your deaths resurrect you. If you embrace the process, you will live again. And you will be truly free.

I CAN BE ALL THINGS

Not long ago I came home from my first half of a split shift, tired from the little sleep my job provides, knowing that I had to be back in 4 hours. Usually I try not to sleep in between shifts, but on this day in particular that is all I wanted to do. I needed rest. Solace. Peace.

I climbed into my small, puffy bed and pulled the covers up over me. This is where I talk to Jesus. I used to feel guilty that I didn’t talk to Him on my knees, hands nicely folded and eyes closed. I felt guilty for being so comfortable. But let’s be real – in my bed, briefly hidden from the world by piles of blankets and the quiet of the night – this is where the work gets done. This is where God meets me. And on the days when I most need comfort He comes in the form of a giant, majestic, beautiful bird.  

I closed my eyes and the bird met me. I was walking through a hot desert, thirsty and tired. I looked up to see the bird in the air, preparing to land. He lands beside me and fluffs his feathers. Then he gently lifts one wing and invites me to stand in the shade beneath it. I find my shelter there, and he scoops me up.  His feathers are soft and the shade is cool. I am protected from the hot, arid    openness that surrounds us. I can rest there.

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”

— Psalm 91:4

As I was imagining this that day, an ugly, sinister voice tried to disturb my rest. It was the voice of myself. It said, “Don’t be ridiculous Kaitlyn, God’ s not a giant bird.” Then, almost immediately, another voice spoke and drowned me out. “I CAN BE ALL THINGS.” 

All too often I put God in a box. I don't like this. All too often I let other peoples’ view of God influence mine. I compare my personal relationship with God to the appearance of others. I figure it’s like trying on someone else’s pair of shoes. While an old worn-in pair of shoes might be the most comfortable things in the world to someone else, I can try them on and they could be too big or too small. I can try to squeeze into them until it hurts, or I could trip and shuffle and stumble around trying to keep them on my heels. 

They are not my pair of shoes.

My relationship with God is not her relationship with God. It’s not that old man’s relationship with God. It’s not that little girl’s relationship with God.

God is always the same. But he relatesto all of us differently.

That's what makes him such an intimate, loving God.

I still yearn to fully grasp.

LOVE UNFOLDS

This is our lot; at a simple request, we cry for complexity. In our insecurities we are insatiable. "Not just my feet, but my hands and head as well" our ego demands. We demand from our anxiety and are anxious through our fear. 

'If only little is asked, what does it say of who cannot accomplish even this?'

What is it we fear? What is it we have impregnated with apprehension? Failure? Rejection? Exclusion? Submission? I can only speak of what I know, but each of us can provide our own cause. The existential anguish then is that only so little is asked, and yet all our prayers beg clarity and direction. 

Why then do I plead with God to show me God's will? What does it mean to ask for God's will in my life? Am I not praying for a curated will? That I am the curator? Are we not asking for what has already been given? 

If we knock and the door is opened, what more must be done? And so we knock, and the door is opened. The invitation is our lot, a simple request: "love one another". At this utterance many flee, few enter, but we gracefully shift our knocking from the door to the frame, waiting for something greater, careful not to cross the threshold. 

It is standing at the entrance, that we serve ourselves. It is here that we insist we are to be served, not to be servants. But to love one another necessitates an outward orientation. It looks past egocentric desires. If we answer the call to love, a new fulfillment is found. One that is unnatural and strangely familiar. The invitation is simple, while entering demands vulnerability and submission. This is why we knock in the face of our welcome. 

We forget that entry gratifies our yearning for complexity and purpose. Love unfolds. Participating in God's will permits God's participation in our lives. It isn't until we acknowledge the way that we can begin to follow.

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BY ANTHONY GALATI

Anthony holds a B.A. in English and Philosophy. He enjoys reading, music, and spending time with friends. Anthony legitimately thinks The Happening is a worthwhile movie. He is in constant conflict with himself. 

SINNERS AND SAINTS II

God reveals himself to us: through his Word, through creation, through our encounters with Him. We can learn of His character. We can see His beauty if we take the time to look more closely. We can experience His love when we accept the mercy we so desperately need.

But those are only glimpses, revelations. His Spirit lives within us, while his presence echoes in the furthest expanses of space and time. So near, yet so far. As knowable as a close friend, while utterly incomprehensible. If we understood Him, He would cease to be God.

So let go of your striving and dwell in the sweet mystery of a God that is only Good.

We can find childlike delight as we proclaim, "God, I have no idea what you're doing!"

GIVE ME ALL

The most difficult thing about giving all to God is risking or compromising your deep and personal passions, desires, and wildest dreams. We fear giving all to God because we feel if we do, our lives will be hard, boring, not what we planned, this isn't how it was supposed to go...

By giving all to God, we no longer have control. Scary. We feel insecure.

When we first choose to follow Christ, "giving all to God" usually means giving up certain worldly pleasures that we love or make us "feel good" for a fleeting moment. It usually doesn't take long to discover that those pleasures are warped or bad for us. When we give up these things, we realize how life is even sweeter without them, and our maturity and trust in Christ begin to grow. We know that those things must go.

“Christ says: ‘Give me All. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work. I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half-measures are any good. I don’t want to cut a branch here and a branch there. I want to have the whole tree down. Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked - the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give You Myself; my own will shall become Yours.”

— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

As we mature in our faith, we will then realize that simply giving up our sins and worldly desires is not enough. God wants more. He now wants even the things that are of Him. He wants to take some of our passions and kill them, because they are not for us. He wants to take some of our dreams and kindle them into a blazing fire, with no life circumstance in the world able to put it out and thwart the way.

THIS is for you. THIS is why I created you.

He has carved out the path to these dreams and the way is easy. The burden is light. If only we would trust that He is Good.

I want only what is best for you, child. I love you.

What has following Me cost you?

It has cost me following the ways of the world in exchange for better, more adventurous ways. It has cost my own plans for my future, in exchange for plans far better than my own imaginative mind could have imagined. It has cost periods of confusion and doubt, in exchange for deeper understanding, greater trust, and a stronger relationship with God. It has cost dark and windy nights out on the stormy sea to long for Jesus and walk on the water. It has cost me some friends and relationships, in exchange for making me a family member in the Kingdom of God. It has cost letting go of material things in exchange for never-ending provision that consistently boggles my mind.

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Further reading: The Cost of Discipleship, by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, German theologian and resister.

SINNERS AND SAINTS I

With little expectations - of people, situations, plans - we are more apt to show grace, and able to find so much more joy in the spontaneity of the unexpected things which come to pass.