Don't mess with the kings

This post is rated R because I don't feel like politely censoring myself. I think doing so in this particular post would kinda suck the meaning out of it. So, I apologize in advance for accidentally offending you, and I thank you in advance for reading. Mrowr.

About a dozen or so years ago, I was in love (yes, truly in love) with a man (back when I used to like effeminate men). I was very close friends with him, and he broke my heart so hard that I wrote songs about him, and then he had the audacity to still want to be friends with me, after he ran my heart through the shredder, and I ended up blocking him on Facebook twice, and look at me still wanting to rip into him years later.

Ahem. Allow me to start over. About a dozen or so years ago, I was in love with a girly man who didn't love me back. But he and I were part of a close social circle, and all of us would always spend a lot of time together. I believe one of our friends introduced us to the Gipsy Kings, a flamenco pop group. While I was hanging out with my social circle, girly-man mentioned that the Gipsy Kings were into witchcraft. After that trivia tidbit got stuck in my head, I imagined these cool-sounding pop performers to be a little too dangerous and definitely off limits for me, so I kept my distance from their music.

However, very recently, I did some digging around and discovered that the Gipsy Kings' cultural heritage is, in fact, gypsy. From what I understand, they are from France, but their family were gypsies who emigrated there from Spain. (According to Wikipedia, most Spanish gypsies are Roman Catholic, so I honestly don't know where girly-man got his nonsensical information.) They started making their music professionally in the 1970s, and they are still active today. I think their tunes are intoxicating. I believe they are largely responsible for mainstreaming flamenco music in the rest of the world. Two families of musicians are in the group, and one of the families' last names is Reyes. "Reyes" is Spanish for "Kings," and since their heritage truly is gypsy, they aren't being arrogant at all when they call themselves Gipsy Kings. They are simply being who they are.

Sometimes when you are genuinely being you, people will shamelessly copy you. (Especially if you're brilliant.)

This is a photo of 4 CDs currently in my music collection that contain either Gipsy Kings cover songs or Gipsy Kings wannabe sound-alike songs (along with Choochie my cat photo-bombing). I believe Julio Iglesias recorded a version of "Bamboleo" about a year after the Gipsy Kings recorded theirs. (Really? No imagination whatsoever?) Christine-Christine-the-cover-queen Sarah Brightman recorded her ballad version of "Tú quieres volver" about 9 years after the Gipsy Kings recorded theirs. (I don't care if her vibrato and her voice are as weird as my class-voice teacher said they are; I think her music is fun.) Del Castillo's music sounds way too much like the Gipsy Kings (except for the blues/jazz/heavy metal influence). And since the Del Castillo band members are from Texas, Missouri, and Mexico (NOT from France or Spain), I don't think it's genuine flamenco. At their shows where I would see them perform live, Del Castillo would talk about God. But after they started printing some weird yoga/ohm symbol (or whatever it was) on their website and merchandise, I stopped buying their stuff. I don't know exactly what happened to them, but their new tunes seemed a little too dangerous and definitely off limits for me. Add that to their copycat sound, and I've lost a lot of respect for them. But all that is just my opinion.

Ahem. Now I'm going to talk about my King -- THE King.

"So I wept much, because no one was found worthy to open and read the scroll, or to look at it. But one of the elders said to me, 'Do not weep. Behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has prevailed to open the scroll and to loose its seven seals.' " (Revelation 5:4-5)

"And He has on His robe and on His thigh a name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS." (Revelation 19:16)

"The king's wrath is like the roaring of a lion, but his favor is like dew on the grass." (Proverbs 19:12)

"The lazy man says, 'There is a lion outside! I shall be slain in the streets!' " (Proverbs 22:13)

Recently in the news, there was a story about a possible lion roaming the streets of Milwaukee. Yeah, right. I've never been to Milwaukee, but I'm guessing that no lion in his or her right mind would ever just wander the streets of civilization. Sure enough, the mysterious street-roaming lion turned out to be a dog. I'm guessing the recent Milwaukee story wasn't the first such urban mystery/legend of its kind in history. (Maybe King Solomon was like, "Oh, there's a lion, huh? So, your list of reasons to not get your tardy butt to work in the morning just gets longer and longer, doesn't it, you sluggard? Go to the ant!")

But you gotta admit that if a mountain lion really were just roaming around freely, it would truly be a dangerous situation. Lions can cause some serious damage.

I mean, just look at Choochie the mini-puma. (This is a snapshot of her playing with me one morning while I was getting ready for work.) You don't ever want to be the object of her growling. (Her fights with neighborhood cats through patio doors are what inspired me to name this blog Windowbrawl.)

Of course, God is definitely more powerful than my tiny little housecat. But I don't think it's an accident that He refers to Himself as a Lion. The lion is the king of the jungle for a reason: The lion is the most powerful. The lion is the strongest. The lion is the best. You don't want to mess with a lion. He could kill you.

You don't want to mess with the Lion of Judah, either. He's loving, but He's also dangerous. Reminds you of Aslan, right? C.S. Lewis was a genius. I had a coworker who chimed in while we were discussing the Narnia movies once: "Aslan is Jesus," she said, her voice dripping with bored sarcasm.

I don't think she knew Him very well (if at all). Otherwise, she might have been more in awe, or at least more respectful. Seriously, you don't want to mess with THE King.

"Kiss the Son, lest He be angry, and you perish in the way, when His wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all those who put their trust in Him." (Psalm 2:12)

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour." (1 Peter 5:8)

Speaking of copycat kings, I'm not sure why the devil bothers to stalk about like a roaring lion, because he's really more of a slithering snake.

The real King of Kings has been misunderstood by the entire human race. People spew out nonsensical information about Him all the time. You can't figure everything out about Him, anyway. He's real, and He's accessible, yes. But He's also a mystery.

For instance, I still don't understand how or why the King of the universe would want to actually adopt me as His own, take me into His family, and re-raise me like I'm His little lioness cub. He's busy running the universe. He shouldn't have time for me. But He does. And He's always there. And He's never, ever let me down.

As He refashions me into His likeness, He teaches me His ways and helps me learn how to control all these crazy emotions that churn up inside me from time to time. One time when I was trying to confess something to Him that I guess maybe I thought He didn't know about, I was like, "Lord, sometimes I hold grudges." And He was like, "If it makes you feel any better, I just kill people."

Indeed. I think perhaps that one guy who used to harass/abuse me at church right before he suddenly, mysteriously died of a heart attack can probably vouch for that.

Lately, I've been working through some major anger that boils up in my head/heart from time to time. It's weird -- like these violent drama fantasies just start playing in my head, like I'm watching a cheap, rented C-movie in my head, and when I ask God what the heck is up, He doesn't seem worried at all. He just lets the stuff play out in my head, and then it's over. (It's like a boot camp for self-control.) Then I have to brace myself for when a fresh anger wave hits again. It's crazy, foolish stuff that, if I were to act on it, could get me fired or ruin friendships.

But I think I'm learning how to stop it. I think the anger in my head has been directed at the wrong people. In fact, it shouldn't be directed at people at all.

"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places." (Ephesians 6:12)

"So the Lord God said to the serpent: 'Because you have done this, you are cursed more than all cattle, and more than every beast of the field; on your belly you shall go, and you shall eat dust all the days of your life. And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her Seed; He shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise His heel.' " (Genesis 3:14-15)

Yeah, that's right. I have a score to settle with my enemy, and my Lion-Father is giving me lifelong battle training for it. So, in this leg of my journey, anytime that misplaced rage bubbles up inside me, I need to redirect it towards the devil, the one who rebelled in heaven and then ruined life here on earth for me and the entire human race. Because of him and because of a couple of really foolish decisions that Adam and Eve made all those years ago, I and the entire human race now have to fight for basic things like power, love, a sound mind, peace, acceptance, joy, and even a simple, lifegiving connection to my Father -- things which, according to His original design for life here on earth, should have been normal all along.

(Reader, please do not be alarmed while I address the devil in these next two paragraphs.) Listen to me, you fucking asshole fallen-angel bastard. I know you can read English, and I know you're probably reading this now. Whether you take the time to read it yourself or whether you have one of your fallen-angel bastard peons read it for you, because you're too good to actually do all the dirty work yourself, I know you can hear me. I hate your fucking lousy pathetic fallen-angel guts. I look forward to the day when you rot in hell... no. You're actually not going to rot. You're going to burn. Yeah, that's right. My Father prepared an extra-hot, extra-tortuous place just for you. He's going to make sure that you suffer every fucking bit as you made us suffer, you pathetic loser. After I get to heaven someday, I hope He gives me a nice little Christmas present: a free torture-you coupon just for me. I hope He lets me take a field trip to your special little place in hell so that I can have my way with you. Yeah, that's right. You know what I'm gonna do to you, you sick little fallen-angel bastard. I'm going to rip off your fallen-angel testicles with my bare hands, and then I'm going to chop them into little pieces and shove them down your throat. And then I'm going to gouge your fallen-angel bastard eyes out with my own two hands, and I'm going to squash them in my own two palms like little grapes, and I'm going to shove what's left of them into your ears. And then I'm going to rip your heart out with my own two hands, and I'm going to run it through a shredder, and then I'm going to floss your fucking fangs with your own heartless-heart-shreds.

Wait. No. Forget I said that, you fallen-angel bastard. I'm not going to do any of that. You see, the One you REALLY need to worry about is my Father. You see, you have hurt one of His little ones. The thing is, I am required by my Father to forgive. You know that, you fucking little hypocrite. But He isn't required to forgive everyone... especially not you, you skanky little snake. I would like to see Him torture you in ways that no one has ever fucking heard of, you pathetic little fallen-angel bastard loser. He'll make sure you get yours.

Whew. Glad I belong to the right King.