Yesterday during the weekly catnip distribution in my home, I
rediscovered my Spanish New Testament copy of The Picture Bible. (My cat's little pile of special stuff is in the
background of this photo, and my Bible bookshelf is very close by.) It's
basically a huge comic-book version of the Bible, but it isn't a literal
verse-by-verse translation; it's an artistic interpretation, I think with
actual Bible verses thrown in here and there. We had an English one (with both
Old and New Testaments) in our home when I was growing up; I think technically,
it was my sister's book, but I remember reading it quite a bit. I loved the
pictures, and sometimes they pop up in my head whenever I read a real Bible.
Unfortunately, my birth father wasn't fond of The Picture Bible. I think growing up in a Pharisee's house was kind of
like growing up in Westboro Baptist Church, minus all the street-protesting, so
the guy who raised me would always pounce on artistic interpretations of Bible
stories. I remember I got my birth mother a DVD of the movie The Littlest Angel for Christmas one
year, and Dad kept criticizing that movie (because it's not really biblical...
it's art). Um, I didn't get that present for you, jerk. I got it for Mom,
because I remembered her liking the story many years ago.
So, as I've maneuvered through the constant criticism of non-literal Bible
art during the course of my life (or as I've endured the tirades of any purist who's
criticized any movie version of any book), I've come to what I feel is an
important conclusion: Not all art forms are supposed to accomplish the same
thing.
The Bible in and of itself is art, and it is literature, and yet it's
alive and sharper than any two-edged sword; it isn't just any other book. It's
supposed to change me (even if I can't see what it's doing) every time I read
it. It's God's Word. If I don't eat it, I'll starve to death.
And any other book is supposed to either stir
your imagination or encourage a different way of thinking every time you read
it. If you see a movie version of a book, it's supposed to be a 90-minute
visual and audio representation of the book that's supposed to elicit emotion
and bring to life the moviemakers' collaborative interpretation of the book.
You can't stuff every little detail of the book into a movie (or you would make
like a 10-hour snoozefest), just like you can't stuff every little Bible verse
into a movie (or it would be like a 200-hour epic documentary).
But I did have a nice time reading un poquito de The Picture Bible yesterday en español. (I don't think I've read
the whole thing yet because I think I got it some years ago from my late
book-salesman grandfather.) I'll talk more about that in a little bit.
"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)
Earlier this year, I was having my "quiet" time one night and
felt like God wanted me to read Psalm 2. So, I did, and the "Kiss the
Son" part stuck out at me. I think maybe it was in the vicinity of Valentine's
Day, and I was like, "Aww, kiss the Son," e.g., give Jesus some
affection. But God showed me the word "Kiss" a different way:
K.I.S.S.
I believe that's Texan for Keep It Simple, Stupid. Ah, ha ha.
That's consistent with other stuff that God has spoken to me about this
year in particular: 1) rest 2) common sense 3) I'm going to be bored. And I
have been.
I'm learning that when you're waiting for God to bring you into a
different season in your life, there are plenty of mundane details to either take
care of or wait for Him to take care of. Honestly, I think it's like watching
paint dry.
But I think God sees it a little differently.
Recently during one "quiet" time, God showed me a picture of
a child walking around a sandy beach. He told me that I've been through a crazy
ordeal (e.g., 2016 was like me swimming to shore during a terrible night
storm), and before He and I venture into the new territory (e.g., if we've just
landed on a desert island), I need to hang out on the shore for a little bit.
The child I saw in the picture was playing with some stuff on the beach. Of
course I know that the child is me. And I also know how important it is to NOT wander off and play with things like jellyfish or seagull poop. (That would be gross and dumb.
Common sense, right?) So, I should stick close to my Father. It's safe here in His presence.
So far this year, I've had to learn to settle down internally and just
let the rest, common sense, and boredom happen. Since I grew up in an abusive
home (per my previous stint in psychotherapy, this means that I'm addicted to
turmoil), this has been challenging. But since I have a relationship with God,
it's good that He's told me about it ahead of time so that I can know that it's
coming. And so that I can enjoy it.
I think 2018 is going to be pretty accelerated and busy, so I should appreciate
2017 while it's here.
So, I've been doing things like settling into my new apartment and
establishing mundane routines (and loving them). One thing that I've been doing
for mealtimes is keeping those on a simple rotation: cereal for breakfast,
whatever I can find for lunch, and usually re-refried bean burritos or egg tacos for
dinner. For breakfast on the weekends, I've been making toast on Saturdays and
oatmeal on Sundays. Above is a photo of my lunch for today. Instead of a
fried-egg sandwich (which has become my typical weekend lunch), I decided to
try Chicken à la King on toast. Minus the chicken, veggies, or sauce.
OK, so it was two eggs sunny-side up on toast. It was still a nice
lunch.
Speaking of simplicity, I recently got new classes in lieu of contact
lenses. By the time I got my eyes checked recently for the first time in 10
years (I was so overdue it wasn't even funny), I decided that I was done with
contacts. I figured that since I have to read things a few inches away from my
face now, and that I'll more than likely need bifocals in the near future, why
fight it? I got the nerdiest-looking frames I could find, on purpose, because
I'm a bona fide nerd. (I think they look
awesome on me, but I've shared the most awkward selfie I could find. Because
I'm like that.)
I'm still getting used to them, but I love them. I can't really see my
hair while I'm styling it anymore, so I kind of have to make a blurry educated
guess as to how it looks in the mornings -- but I like doing that better than
dealing with old, crusty contact lenses. That got painful and terrible toward
the end.
Yesterday, I wore my new glasses to church for the first time, and OH,
MY GOSH. Everything was so clear and colorful! The service that I usually
attend always has a live sermon, except yesterday it was a pre-recorded video. The
message was broadcast on huge monitors that I could see very clearly from way
back in the balcony where I was sitting. Oh, 20/20 vision, where have you been
all my life???
"Unto You I lift up my EYES, O You who dwell in the heavens.
Behold, as the EYES of servants LOOK to the hand of their masters, as the EYES
of a maid to the hand of her mistress, so our EYES LOOK to the Lord our God,
until He has mercy on us." (Psalm 123:1-2)
The night after I picked up my new glasses, when I had my
"quiet" time, I asked God where He would like me to read in my Bible,
and He led me to Psalm 123. In the previous paragraph, I sort of highlighted
the words that stuck out at me. Ah, ha ha. God is funny. And He knows exactly
where I am and exactly what I need.
I have a natural tendency to overcomplicate things, and God knows that
I need an extended season when I can simplify my life and learn how to
appreciate the simplicity. For example, I no longer need to overcomplicate my
life with contact lenses and all the time, energy, and expense of keeping them
clean, coaxing them out of my eyeballs when they get stuck, and wiping the mucus
from the corners of my eyes when they irritate my corneas. Now all I have to
do is keep my glasses clean. Simple.
And all I have to do at home is keep my tiny little apartment clean and
my tiny little cat healthy and happy. Simple.
Speaking of Chicken à la King on toast, yesterday while I was looking
through my Spanish version of The Picture
Bible, I came across the story of King Herod getting struck by God and
dying. The art was so compelling that I cracked open my real Bible and read the
real story in Acts 12. What happened was, King Herod persecuted people in the
early Church, and then while his loyal subjects were basically singing his praises, God
struck him -- The Picture Bible says
with a disease, and the New King James Bible says with worms. Either way, gross,
and either way, God got revenge for His persecuted people.
This reminded me of something else in the Book of Acts, so I flipped back
to chapter 9 where Saul (Paul) got dramatically converted when Jesus appeared
to him: "Why are you persecuting Me?" Then I like how Saul ended up
answering his own question in verse 5: "Who are You, Lord?" Yeah,
that's right. Jesus is Lord. Again I saw how God got revenge for His persecuted
people (and since the body of Christ was being persecuted, HE was being
persecuted). But this time, the guy doing the persecuting got to live -- he ended up repenting
and being one of the biggest heroes of our faith.
So, I had a rather dynamic "quiet" time -- because I read a
simplified version, an artistic representation, of the Bible. It didn't dumb
down the Scriptures for me. It led me to them. It brought them to life, so to
speak. It helped me.
What's so wrong with that? What's so wrong with keeping it simple,
stupid?
I'll tell you what. Ain't nothin' wrong with that.
