Extremes

Pretty much everybody in my area enjoyed a nice pre-winter wintry, ice-snowy frozen day today. I enjoyed it exclusively indoors with my indoor cats. My babies aren't allowed outside, so I let each one of them get a whiff of the cold fresh air. Choochie, the sprinter, got a really quick whiff. With Macho, on the other hand, I got crazy-frisky and left the front door open for a long "Hey, you wanna see the weather outside?" moment. He shakily advanced toward the threshold with a suspicious "Are you going to kick me out as punishment for nosing through your kitchen cabinet?" look on his furrily humbled face. Of course I didn't let him actually go outside, and of course I wasn't worried that he would run away, because he's scared to death of the outdoors and has never crossed this threshold.

But I can't believe I actually opened the front door on purpose, on an icy day, with two cats loose indoors. I guess wintry weather just makes people do crazy things. I guess crazy things just happen on the extremes.

"And to the angel of the church of the Laodiceans write, 'These things says the Amen, the Faithful and True Witness, the Beginning of the creation of God: "I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I could wish you were cold or hot. So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth." ' " (Jesus talking in Revelation 3:14-16)

I think God thinks extremes are important. In Revelation, Jesus is like, "Are you cold or hot for Me? Choose how you're going to be. Just don't be lukewarm, 'cause that tastes gross. I mean, you don't want Me or the people around you to get food poisoning, do you?" (That was Tirzah's interpretation.)

In terms of following God, on which end of the spectrum are Pharisees? On which extreme are they? I wonder if perhaps outwardly they appear to be on the "on fire for God" end of the spectrum, because they're not on the "I don't believe in God at all" end of the spectrum. But what if they're actually in the "I believe in God, but I don't really like Him; can I stop singing hymns and go home now?" lukewarm middle of the spectrum? At least, when I was a Pharisee, I think that's where I was.

Perhaps the danger of residing in the middle of the spectrum (not being on either extreme) is being too willing and able to slither from one extreme to the other. A middle-resider would probably be like, "I love You" one second and, "I hate You," the next second, kinda like flipping a switch.

Several years ago, I had a job that required me to watch (usually obscure) movies. During one assignment, I watched a really terrible movie about a protagonist who accidentally makes a deal with the devil. The actor who played the devil wasn't revealed as the devil until the end of the movie, of course, but during the movie he seemed like a sleek, polished, good person. During one scene, the protagonist meets quietly with the (unrevealed) devil inside a church sanctuary. While they're having a casual conversation in the pews, the protagonist is cussing like a truck driver. The (unrevealed) devil quietly shushes the protagonist and reminds him that he probably shouldn't cuss inside a church building. When I saw the end of the movie and the devil was revealed, it was like... of course. Even the devil knows how people are supposed to behave inside a church building. He knew all the right things to say and all the wrong things that weren't supposed to have been said.

Perhaps extremes are safe because if you're on fire for God, if you really like Him a lot, He'll know how serious you are about Him, and He'll hold you close and protect you from all kinds of stuff. Or perhaps if you're anti-God, you'll inadvertently paint a "cold" target on your forehead for us "hot" people to see and immediately start praying for you. "Oh, somebody sounds wounded. Father, find 'em, grab 'em, and love on 'em." God is extremely serious, too. If you give Him an inch, He won't take a mile. He'll give you a zillion miles back.

Or perhaps one reason why "lukewarm" can be so dangerous is because fences don't have wide walking surfaces. If you walk a tightrope, perhaps you should check and see how far the drop is.

In my journey, I think God saw my "lukewarm" and, instead of spitting me out, in His mercy and grace, He was like, "Oh, you wanna be hot now? Groovy. Hold on and get ready to feel the burn, baby, burn."

"The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars, yes, the Lord splinters the cedars of Lebanon. He makes them also skip like a calf, Lebanon and Sirion like a young wild ox. The voice of the Lord divides the flames of fire. The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the Wilderness of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord makes the deer give birth, and strips the forests bare; and in His temple everyone says, 'Glory!' " (Psalm 29:5-9)

About three years ago when God and I got extremely serious about my emotional healing, God began to do extremely serious things. For a while, my emotional healing would manifest physically. It was sort of like showing up for a daily doctor's appointment; the appointment itself was very unpleasant, but the Doctor would pat you on the back afterwards, make sure you were OK, give you a lollipop, and send you home.

Usually in the evenings, most often while I was lying in bed and trying to fall asleep, I would get hit with a memory or a picture of some sort, and I would cry out in emotional pain, and then I would literally pant, strain, and convulse in my midsection. It's possible that I was hyperventilating. But regardless of what it was exactly, it was scary, and it would be over after a few minutes, and there would be tears, and there would be laughter, and there would be relief. These episodes would occur pretty much every night. I don't remember exactly how long this ordeal lasted, but perhaps it was several months.

When this first started happening, of course I was concerned. Was it God? Was it demonic? Was it fleshly? So, I asked God once what was happening, and He said, "I'm carving out space in your soul for emotions." And He also pointed out those verses in Psalm 29 that I quoted previously. Yep, it definitely felt like the cedars of Lebanon were splitting wide open.

So, from what I understand, God healed my emotions -- nay, He re-created my emotions -- in a very extreme way. (I don't remember any "Freedom through panting" classes being offered at my church.) Perhaps that was His way of undoing all the years of "What will people think?" or "Only ridiculous crybabies cry in front of other people" or "Don't be a fanatic" or "You're not allowed to express yourself; shut up" mentalities that I had been conditioned with. I think it worked. I used to take hours or days to build up to a good cry. Now just give me a couple of seconds, and the tears will come without me wanting them to.

I don't think me crying was really all God was interested in, though. One time, I asked Him, "Is it fair to say that I'm ultra-sensitive?" He replied, "No, you're excruciatingly sensitive, and you're learning how to control it." Oy vey.

So, that's part of my journey of God rewiring me internally to "hot." Crazy things happen on the extremes. Instead of simply doing what I'm told or believing what I'm told to believe or stuffing away the things I want to do, I'm grabbing what's mine and running with it. I have ideas of my own, I want to believe whatever God wants me to believe, and I pursue my dreams. And it's interesting to see the results. I think I repel people who don't like my ideas, I accidentally offend people who can't persuade me to agree with them, and I walk away from people who mock my attempts at achieving awesome things.

It's painful, but after a while, I've gotten used to it. I guess that's one side effect of being on the "hot" extreme: I don't care how bad it hurts or how roughly I get shredded internally. (Well, I care, 'cause pain stinks, but please hear what I'm saying.) I want to keep pursuing God. I want Him. He's my Friend who wanted me first. He's promised to stick with me, so I want to stick with Him, too. So, it doesn't matter if I get hit in the face with an Arctic blast or if I slip so hard on the icy conditions that I forget who I am for a moment or two. I'm hot, and I feel the burn, baby, burn.

Jesus went to the farthest extreme that any other human being has ever gone through, or will ever go through, but He did it so I wouldn't have to. He became sin for me so that I wouldn't have to live in it. He endured His Father's turning His back on Him so that I wouldn't have to know my Father's rejection. He took all the ridicule, all the abuse, and all the unjust treatment from the people who crucified Him so that I wouldn't have to suffer a punishment that I had earned. He didn't deserve any of that. He gave it willingly because He wanted to, and because He wanted me.

And He still does. After all I did to Him, He still wants me? That is very extreme. And I want Him, too, extremely.