Saturday, October 22, 2011

Owie

Disclaimer: Over the past few months, I've written about friendship, housecleaning, and healing. I think this post will probably involve all of that plus more. Or maybe it won't. Or maybe I'm just in one of my crazy artsy-fartsy abstract moods. Or maybe I'm just crazy. An artist named Helen Van Wyk used to have a painting show on PBS, and during the intro of one episode where she was about to teach us viewers how to paint a painting of a pot and onions, she added the humorous disclaimer, "Or maybe I'll just teach you how to make soup." I don't think I've ever made homemade soup. But I've made homemade casserole. Maybe I'll just show you nice readers how to make casserole. Or maybe I'm just hungry. Thanks in advance for reading and listening.

My friend and I have recently outgrown IHOP. (Powerhouse isn't her real name, of course. She's a superhero. She leaps tall buildings in a single bound and has a secret identity. Insert fanfare here.) It's time for us to branch out and find a new hangout restaurant. So, I decided to hit the highway and scout out the land, which is how I found IHOP in the first place, which happens to be in a location that's about halfway between where she lives and where I live. So far, the candidates are a Mexican food place close to where I live and a Tex-Mex place close to where she lives... and there's also a Denny's. Yay, variety!

No, we haven't yet officially decided on the new hangout spot, but my point is that it delighted my heart to scout out this territory -- to go first and check out the options. I think it's part of how God made me. I'm a firstborn. When I was growing up, I was the first child to experience lots of things. Then I'd report back.

"He is the image of the invisible God, the Firstborn over all creation." (Colossians 1:15, talking about Jesus)


Now to abruptly switch gears. The other day, I enthusiastically ripped off part of one of my guitar calluses (because it felt like it was about to peel off, anyway). I think I ripped off a teensy bit too much, because it's somewhat raw underneath, as you can tell on the second digit from the right in the picture. Yes, I snapped this picture after playing my guitar. Yes, that red line is from playing my guitar on the somewhat raw part of my finger. Yes, I chose this particular photo partially to elicit pity. Yes, owie. And then...


...almost a week later, I felt like more of the callus wanted to rip off, so I ripped more of it off. Perhaps you can see in the photo that an even rawer, more tender part of my skin is exposed at the bottom of the rip. I discovered this morning how doubly painful it can be to play my guitar by pressing this very exposed area of my finger on a steel string. Double owie!

My emotional and spiritual healing is kind of going through the same thing right now. Hard, cushiony protection has been ripped off, and softer, raw undercoating has been exposed, and words can't even do justice to describe how much it hurts. "Owie" is too teeny-tiny of an expression. But the good news is that Jesus is a Healer, and God is binding up my wounds like it says in Psalm 147.

Now to switch metaphors. Jesus and I have been cleaning house, and we found at least one trash can that has been full and decaying. It's time to take out the trash... or possibly to discard the disgusting trash can altogether. I'm not exactly sure yet. You know who knows? Jesus, my Big Brother. He's gone before me and knows what's coming up next. He knows the next turn. He's scouted out the land, so to speak. He found the new IHOP, and I believe He wants to tell me all about it.

"A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." (Proverbs 18:24)

"And He made known to us the mystery of His will according to His good pleasure, which He purposed in Christ..." (Ephesians 1:9)

John 15:15 says that Jesus, my Big Brother, is the Friend who will tell me everything that He's doing. The thing is, I need to listen to Him. I need to be close enough to God to let Him talk to me, give me direction, and show me His will. I've had a couple of conversations recently in which the person I was talking to was questioning if it was possible for a person to know God's will. This really bothered me. Perhaps when we're growing up, we have communication issues with our parents that can make it difficult to know what their will is for our lives. Hopefully, you the reader grew up with parents who had excellent communication and relationship-building skills. Hopefully, the idea of walking up to a parent and having a face-to-face conversation with them isn't intimidating. More importantly, hopefully the idea of walking up to God's throne, so to speak, in prayer and conversation, and talking with Him plainly is even less intimidating as time goes by. "Hi, Lord. I like You." "Hey, you're going to go through [insert trial here]. Are you OK with that?" "Um... if You're OK with it, then I'm OK with it." "It's OK. I'm right here."

Sometimes I just want somebody to listen to me. Sometimes I just want somebody to spend a little time developing a relationship with me. Sometimes I just want to talk to a friend face to face. It bothers me when someone won't listen to me. It bothers me when someone won't take the time to get to know me. It bothers me when someone won't let me talk to them. I wonder if God is the same way. I wonder if maybe He's got tons of plans and thoughts and revelations that He's just waiting to share with a listening ear. I wonder how many times my head has been so noisy that I haven't been able to hear my God, my Big Brother, my Best Friend talking to me. I want to delight myself in Him and let Him meet the desires of my heart, like it says in Psalm 37. I want Him to feed me the finest of wheat and let Him satisfy me with honey from the rock, like it says in Psalm 81.

Regardless of how many awesome friends I have in my life, Jesus will always be THE Best Friend I could ever have, and He is my Big Brother who sticks even closer than a natural brother ever could, like it says in Proverbs 18. Regardless of how ravenously I seek physical food like at IHOP or spiritual food like the Bible, regardless of how ravenously young lions seek their food, if I seek God, I won't lack any good thing, like it says in Psalm 34. Regardless of how many tall buildings any of us could ever leap in a single bound, no one will ever hold a candle to Jesus, who is THE Hero who made a way for us to have direct access to Father God, and Jesus' identity is NOT a secret.

Hmm. All this talk about IHOP and casseroles has made me hungry again. I wonder if bacon and eggs will be included in the banqueting table in Heaven. Nah, on second thought, I think the food there will be infinitely more delicious. Wowie!