i feel small.
teeny tiny.
like a little stink bug.
only stinkier.
and i wish i could hide.
until i turn into a butterfly.
a butterfly with beautiful wings
that flutter in the breeze.
but stink bugs...
don't turn into butterflies.
and neither will i.
why?
because
i was wretched today.
again.
i was selfish today.
again.
i fell into my habbit of
accounting of others
by how much they
agree or disagree with me
(thank you Horatius Bonar)...
again.
shhh.
the Holy Spirit's
whisper.
stop fighting.
and know.
I AM.
Know.
that I AM GOD.
He is.
everything.
including my righteousness.
glorious righteousness.
sustaining righteousness.
cleansing, renewing, forgiving
righteousness.
lifting me up to soar
on eagles' wings.
and that's a whole lot higher
than any self-created
butterfly wings
could ever take me.
besides,
i don't think
christians were made
to flutter like butterflies.
to be carried about
by every contrary wind.
all the time toting along
these ornate, showy,
self-proclaiming butterfly wings.
we were made to soar.
no, to be lifted up.
like eaglets
on the mother eagle's wings.
silent.
barely noticed by any.
but present.
active and strong.
active and strong
because
He is.
shhh.
Stop fighting.
Know.
and be lifted up.
When I write of a "Dreamer," I do not mean the lackadaisical, good-for-nothing day-dreamer. Nor am I referring to a concocter of fairy tales, happy endings, and castles in the sky.
I speak of a visionary.
One who sees.
And acts upon that dream.
Such dreams come only at great price.
Stomach-turning,
Knot-forming,
Screaming,
Mental,
Physical
PAIN
Why? The answer is obvious.
In order to see, one must feel accutely the need for change.
But this is not where the real pain comes.
Once the Dreamer sees, the pain of the unrealized dream nearly chokes him.
Not because it is unrealized, but because it could so easily, so simply be accomplished.
And yet the world clamours on.
Christians, blinded by the "reality" of this world.
Insistent on a blank, dreamless life.
Content with impatience and strife.
"Get in touch with reality" they say.
"No life can be as you describe."
The dream cannot come without pain.
And the Dreamer must either accept this, or die a slow, normal life (for Dreamers were made to Dream).
This is what I had not realized yesterday when I posted my blog on dying.
"The pain is too great," I thought as the mental anguish became physical.
"It hurts. This dream is impossible."
But I learned:
The pain
is only there
because the dream
is attainable.
Christ wept over Jerusalem.
Jeremiah lamented for his people.
They had a vision for what their people could be.
The dream
always comes
with pain.
Such is life.
Such is dreaming.
Where there is no vision, the people perish.