De light

"This is the message which we have heard from Him and declare to you, that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin." (1 John 1:5-7)

"If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall fall on me,' even the night shall be light about me; indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, but the night shines as the day; the darkness and the light are both alike to You." (Psalm 139:11-12)

"You have set our iniquities before You, our secret sins in the light of Your countenance." (Psalm 90:8)

The other day while I was having my "quiet time" (I'm still not exactly sure why we Christians call our personal Bible reading/prayer/worship time a quiet time, 'cause it ain't always quiet), I decided to open my living-room vertical blinds instead of turning on my lamp. The afternoon sun illuminated my living room in a way that I'm not used to. I could see the dust on my furniture. I thought I saw vermin scurry across the carpet, but I think my mind was just playing tricks on me. My lit-up living room kinda freaked me out. During a "quiet time," God usually speaks. This time, He told me, "Being in the light makes you anxious."

Well, OK, I guess it kinda does. The King of the universe shines a spotlight on your heart, and every stinking sin floating around in there suddenly pops up to the surface like a cockroach that thought it could hide forever. All it needs is one good squash from a strong shoe, and it's a goner. Then you squinch your eyes shut and wait for the lecture as to why you should have kept your house cleaner in the first place.

But during this "quiet time," God spoke quietly/loudly a very gentle/firm reminder, and we had an "I'm not that guy" moment. (If you don't know what I mean, please check out one of my previous posts.) God won't heap shame, guilt, or condemnation on me. He doesn't want me to feel bad about myself.

I don't think He means for the light to be a scary place. When He shines Himself, His truth, on my life and my circumstances, I don't think His intention is to harm me, shame me, or burn me to a crisp. I think He wants to help me, purify me, and keep me as healthy as possible so that there won't be any damaging distance between us. I think the distance would break His heart.

But it's interesting to see that I'm not the only one who freaks out in de presence of de light. (No, I'm not Jamaican, but I thought I'd have some fun with this concept.)

For example, my boy cat Macho has a terrible habit of jumping on my kitchen cabinets. I think sometimes he looks for leftover food, and sometimes he just wants to hang out up there. He isn't allowed to do either of those activities. (I have enough problems in my life without having to clean up cat hair from my countertops, thank you very much.) I had warned him previously that I would take a picture of him and post in on the internet if he were to break my kitchen rule, but he didn't seem to take this consequence seriously. So, voilà, now my kitty's illicit activity is posted online for all to see. I even used my camera's flash 3 times, but he still stood his ground. (Come on, kitty, that's where I store my food. Uncool!) He didn't budge until I walked toward him. I'm not sure why he doesn't think Mama means business unless she advances like a forklift to transport him away. Hmm. Well, he is 14 years old. Perhaps he's just being a teenager.

Sometimes I catch him before he officially commits the crime. I follow him into the dark kitchen, I see his orange-striped face gaze up at the kitchen sink with longing, and I say, "Don't even think about it." He meows and ambles nonchalantly out of the room.

And, of course, as soon as I speak, I remind myself of God my Father. There are plenty of areas in my brain and heart that He doesn't want me to venture into because I could get myself in trouble. I don't think He'll follow me around like an OCD camera-flashing Mama; I think He trusts me. Perhaps He trusts me in the same way that He trusted Adam and Eve to NOT eat the forbidden fruit. Then voilà, they violated His trust and made a way for us all to fall into their trap this side of eternity. But He's also a good Father who takes me seriously when I give Him control of my life, so He's often there when I get too close to the dangerous places, and He sometimes reminds me that I don't need to go there: "Don't even think about it."

As another example, my girl cat Choochie has had different experiences with the light. Ever since she was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, I've had to take her to the vet for regular follow-up visits. Of course, she absolutely hates these visits. The other day, after the vet's assistant weighed her and took her temperature the old-fashioned way, I held her shaking little body in my arms while we waited for the vet to come. Her little paws were beginning to sweat with nervousness. In the distance, we could hear a dog barking. Choochie perked up. The wild look in her blue eyes said, "I smell death. This is where mammals come to die." Then the vet arrived, whisked her away to the back room and drew blood samples, and then surrendered her humiliated furry self back into my carrier, and I drove her home. The drive home is usually more peaceful than the drive to the vet, because there isn't any point in protesting anymore -- Mama has had her way yet again.

I was glad to be at home after Choochie's vet visit, because I'm always concerned that my kitties could feel ill after receiving medical treatment. After this particular visit, however, Choochie withdrew from me and hid under my bed. Aw, my poor little innocent furball! I'll bet you're scared to death... 

...OK, I stand corrected. When I flashed my camera under my bed to capture this tender moment, I didn't see a helpless little feline flower. I saw a little puma ready to bite my face off. But I think she only said it with her eyes.

I'm not completely sure why I treat God the same way sometimes. Maybe I really am scared to death when He shines His light on me and my issues. I think He simply wants to fix me and draw me closer to Himself. One of His myriad areas of expertise is healing my heart. But I think sometimes I treat Him as if He wanted to rip my entire heart out like a horror movie. God isn't a rated-R villain. He's a first-class heart doctor, the best in His field -- the One who invented the field in the first place, the One who created my heart in the first place, the One who knew who I was before I was even born. If I open myself up to Him and His healing ways, He isn't going to make me worse. He's going to make me whole.

During the past few months, God has reminded me repeatedly that darkness and light are both alike to Him. I don't think any of my sins or iniquities will surprise Him, puzzle Him, or freak Him out. He can handle anything I can cast on Him, and He'll do it skillfully and thoroughly. He can use mud just like He can use a thunderbolt: He uses them to advance His Kingdom, to fulfill His purposes, and to just show everybody that He's in charge. And He won't zap me off the face of the earth, because He adopted me. If I surrender my mess to Him, I don't think He'll get offended.

However, I think He can get offended when I withdraw from Him or reject anything He wants to give me. I'm not saying He won't forgive me. I think it just hurts Him.

"How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings. They are abundantly satisfied with the fullness of Your house, and You give them drink from the river of Your pleasures. For with You is the fountain of life; in Your light we see light." (Psalm 36:7-9)

"O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; yes, I have a good inheritance." (Psalm 16:5-6)

I think I heard the offense in His voice one day when He almost yelled at me, "Did you honestly think that I didn't want you to experience pleasure?" What do you say when the King of the universe shines a spotlight on your heart, and something stinky suddenly pops up to the surface and can't hide anymore? I answered honestly, "Yes. I'm sorry."

Having a religious spirit for most of my life, and being surrounded by other people who had religious spirits, truly messed me up pretty good. (Again, by "religion," I don't mean humanity's quest for God. I mean humanity's invention of stupid fun-sucking rules and claiming that these rules came from God.) Yes, I'm unemployed, and I'm looking for a job, but why can't God prompt me to unplug for a little while in the middle of the day and enjoy a movie on my DVD player? Yes, I'm lonely, and I'm looking for ways to hang out with friends, but why can't I spend a Friday night reorganizing my bookshelves? Just because I'm having a "quiet time" doesn't mean I have to play regular praise-and-worship songs to God. Sometimes He likes to hear Queen. Sometimes He likes to hear my original songs. Sometimes He likes to hear brand-new original songs that I haven't officially written yet. He and I have a relationship together -- the deepest, most intimate relationship that I will ever have with anyone else. Why can't He and I simply enjoy one another?

God isn't boring. God isn't a guilt-tripping stick in the mud. God isn't a Pharisee with a gigantic religious spirit who is looking for ways to stone me in public and write a huge headline about it that will sell newspapers so that all of humanity can read all about the ways that I defiled myself.

How dare I make Him look bad! Right? Wrong. I think my Heavenly Father would say yet again, "I'm not that guy."

"The Lord your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:17)

This is God's heart. Yes, of course He wants to clean sin, iniquity, and any other junk out of my life. But He also wants to sing over me. He loves me. He likes me. He delights in me. How much does He delight in me? He reminds me every time someone tells me that they read my name in the Bible. In Hebrew, my name means "delight."

But it's not just me. My name means "delight," but I believe very firmly that God delights in every single one of His children, regardless of their names, regardless of their sins, regardless of their iniquities, regardless of their struggles. He loves us, He wants us, He cares about us, and He longs for us to draw near to Him.

So, de light ain't a bad place, just like delight isn't a bad thing. True dat.