Hands

Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord, who walks in his ways!  You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. (Psalm 128:1-2)

Father,
Tomorrow morning,
Adalheid is going in for surgery
On her arms,
To alleviate the nerve problems
Traveling down into her hands.

I envision
The many years of hard work
And meticulous care
Spent in her jobs
And her various life roles
That have contributed to
The nerve damage: 
Carrying trays at restaurants...
Typing thousands of ads and e-mails...
Grooming dogs and cats...
Tending to sick animals and people...
Constantly providing care and support in
Countless meals cooked,
Drinks poured,
And hugs administered.

Abba,
Be with her tomorrow morning,
And be with the team attending to her.
Your Hands are constantly mentioned
In Holy Writ
As protecting and upholding
Your precious ones.
I humbly ask
That You protect and uphold her
Both during the surgery,
And in the hours, days, and weeks
Of the healing process.

Give the king and I
Discernment to anticipate her needs,
And patience and skill to circumvent
Any issues with the wandering momma. 
Bless the house
With understanding and harmony
As the aura that Adalheid works so hard for
Now falls to us to maintain.

Lord,
Hold her hands
In Your Hands.
Protect and uphold her in
Your Mighty Embrace...

Faggot

-Noun-
A bundle of sticks, twigs, or branches bound together and used as fuel, a fascine, a torch, etc.

-Noun-
Slang: Disparaging and Offensive. a homosexual; a male homosexual.

Okay, God...
Let's address
The elephant in the room.

You know when and how
This all began.
I was 19.
You know that, until that point,
I really had no sense of myself
As a creature interested in
Engaging in relationships
With the opposite sex.
Oh sure, I would talk the talk
The same as everyone else,
But it was like fire
With no heat.
I didn't put alot of thought
Into dating and boyfriends
And all that that entailed.
I figured I was
What Mommie referred to as
"A late bloomer."

When the time came to bloom...
It wasn't what I had thought.
It took me by surprise...
But the point here
Is that it took me, nonetheless.

Why didn't I feel any revulsion?
Why didn't I run screaming from the stairwell
On the day of that fateful, first kiss?
Why did I effortlessly traverse,
For ten years,
Within that mode of living?
I felt like I had unraveled
Some great mystery about myself,
Answered some unasked questions
About who and what I was,
And why I did and did not feel
The typical things other people purportedly did.

If I am really honest,
I admit that I was turmoiled
By the tension between my inner life -
The modes of thinking and behaving and acting
Within my few relationships -
And the tension of my outer life -
How do I exist
Without wounding and scandalizing others?
How do I carry myself
So I am not exposed, ridiculed, reviled?

I tried to avoid You in all this.
I didn't want to address the issue
Of what it would mean
To - what?
Tell You?
You already know.
To involve myself
In a dialogue with You
About what this means
For my life?
Perhaps.

At the end of this month,
It will be six years
Since I have been involved with anyone.
Six years is a long time
To not be on a date
For a mortal who's only in her thirties.
It's more than a sixth of my life thus far.
Circumstance and lack of motivation
Contributed to this period of aloneness,
But I will admit that
It was a relief in many ways
To not have to actively address
Questions and issues about relationships and sexuality.

Of course,
That's one of the things
That flew out the window
During my trip back to New York.

I don't know what to DO here!
What do I DO
With the inclinations of my body
That come in direct opposition
To Your Word?
...Immerse myself in a study of
Biblical hermeneutics
And try to unearth the "real" meaning
Behind the Hebrew and Greek,
Seeking the loophole
To justify myself?...
...Try the Phoenix male dating scene,
In an effort to awaken
Some latent desires
Buried way down deep somewhere?...
...Continue on as I have been going,
And just say screw it,
What's going to be is going to be,
Although I feel if I don't do something
I'm going to spend my life in a netherworld?...

I don't UNDERSTAND!
What is it?
A predilection? A weakness? A spiritual flaw?
A temptation to sin
No more or less destructive
Than all the other temptations to sin?
If so, why does it feel so pervasive,
Tainting and tapping
So many areas in my life?
(Other sins don't feel like that to me,
For the record.)
Is this a test, as Job was tested,
Something I should resist
At all costs?
Is it a defunct, a defect, a dysfunction?
Am I a defunct, a defect, a dysfunction?

O, my Lord God,
WHY HAVE YOU MADE ME THUS?

Well are we called faggots:
Like bundles of kindling wood,
We burn, and we burn, and we BURN
With the unanswered questions
Of our identity,
Our sexuality,
And what that means
In terms of our relationship
To YOU.

I don't wish to consciously displease You.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone,
From a human standpoint.

I am at a loss.
I feel like Al Pacino
In "Scent of a Woman,"
When he exclaims,
"I'm in the dark here!"
I know exactly how
The blind character he played feels.

I am exhausted
From both the thinking
And willing myself not to think about it
That's been happening the past two weeks.
I don't know what to do,
And I'm done trying to figure it out.

Father,
Redeem this life
So dearly purchased by Your Anointed.
Release me,
Once and for all,
From that which binds me...

Valley Prayer for Didymus

Then he said to me, "Fear not, Daniel, for from the first day that you set your heart to understand and humbled yourself before your God, your words have been heard, and I have come because of your words." (Daniel 10:12)

Father,
I derive hope from this passage. 
Your messenger declares to Daniel
That he has come
Because of Daniel's words.
The humbleness of Daniel's heart,
Coupled with his praying and fasting
Unlocked something in the spiritual realm
That allowed Your messenger
To reach him.

I pray that You would now be
So gracious to me.
I seek Your help and protection
For Didymus.

Lord,
You know what assails her.
You have the power
To come to her aid.
I ask that You do this at this time
When she needs energy and time to heal.

I will not pretend to understand
The rules of engagement for this warfare.
However,
I believe that, like Daniel,
Our actions can and do
Affect the outcome of battles.
So, I am beseeching You,
On her behalf,
To alleviate the Enemy's attacks on her.
I beseech You to
Engulf her in the protective fire
Of Your Embrace
And ward off the evil
Attempting to harm her.

Guard her sleeping hours.
Guard her waking hours.
Watch over her, Lord,
And defend her in this,
Her hour of need!
I ask this because
You are Holy and Faithful and Merciful,
Good to us in all ways,
And continually working all things
Together for our good. *

Father,
Reveal and purge
That which is not of You
From within me,
In order to draw me into
Ever closer communion
With You.
Find favor with my words and actions.
Hearken to the petitions of my heart,
And help Didymus.
Allow us to praise You
For all the good You have done for us,
And continue to do for us
All the days of our lives!

* Romans 8:28

Stronghold

"Blanca."

I open my eyes.
I see the Anointed One,
Standing against a gray backdrop
That accentuates the bleakness in me.

"Hi." My greeting is faint.

"Hello." He smiles.
Waving me over with one hand,
He says, "Walk with Me for a bit."

I nod, sidling up alongside Him.

We walk for several moments in silence.

Finally, I ask,
"Why did You send me to New York?"

"To spend time with Didymus.
To open your eyes to
Spiritual truths at work in your life.
To reinforce the feeling of
My Hand at work in your life.
But Blanca, you know this.
What are you really asking Me?"

"I have felt so messed up inside
Since I came home," I admit.
"My thoughts are racing all over the place.
I can't concentrate properly.
I feel restless and edgy,
Like there's something I'm supposed to be doing,
But I don't know what the something is.
I'm nasty to the people I love
For absolutely no reason or provocation.
I'm easily confused, easily aggravated.
None of this is my usual behavior.
I don't know exactly what's going on."

"Tell me about the night
You were making beet salad."

I don't want to recount that!
"You already know what happened!" I protest.

He nods. "Tell me anyway."

I want so desperately
To get out of this conversation,
But He has asked,
So I stammeringly begin to relate
The moments of terror that gripped me
The night I was making a beet salad
In Didymus' kitchen.

It happened as soon as
Didymus had said she was going to bed.
I was sitting at the kitchen table grating beets
When I was overwhelmed
By a feeling of dread.
My heart started palpitating.
My head felt tingly, pins and needles.
The hackles rose on my flesh.
I wanted to ask Didymus
To stay awake with me,
But I talked myself out of it,
Reasoning that it would be selfish,
She needed sleep,
She was recovering from surgery.
I checked the apartment
Over and over again,
Seeking for something physical
To account for my feelings.
Of course, there was none.
I sat back down,
And continued with my mundane task
While my thoughts suddenly exploded
In a violent kaleidoscope of
Half-seen visions
And half-formed, evil thoughts.
I kept seeing "things"
Out of the corner of my eyes,
Flashes of dark movement.
I imagined the shredded beets in front of me
Were coming alive,
Transforming into red worms.
I heard thoughts in my head,
In my own voice,
That were not of me,
Saying phrases like,
"You think you can go up against me?
You can't make a difference in this world.
That knife you're using to cut that lemon?
You'd be better off using it on your wrists!
Better yet, go put Didymus out of her misery first,
Before you off yourself."

Vile, vile thoughts
Swirling around me,
Swirling through me
As I deliberately, intensely focused
On finishing the beet salad.
I turned on Pandora radio,
And prayed for a song
From the Christian Rock Radio station
To dispel the miasma around me.
When the song choices proved impotent,
I prayed and prayed and kept praying to the Father
For deliverance from this evil assault.

Eventually, the thoughts died down,
And the feeling of attack
Drew to a close.
I Godblogged until my eyes almost closed,
And finally went to bed.

I am sweating by the time
I finish telling Him the story.

He nods. "And you haven't felt okay
Since this happened, have you?"

"No."

"This isn't the first time
Something like this has happened to you,"
He reminds me.

I remember other moments in my life
Where I had experienced a sensation
Of being assaulted by thoughts
Not of my own making,
"Yes," I agree,
Remembering nights spent
Talking myself out of suicide,
"But they had always seemed more subtle.
This was... More forceful. More blatant."

"What do you think happened
In the spiritual realm
As you and Didymus
Upheld each other in love?"
He asks me.
"Do you think the Enemy
Wanted to see that meeting take place?
Do you think that he wants two people
Who he's worked so hard to keep in the dust
To suddenly start straining towards the Light?
No, he wants to keep you both apart,
Apart and downtrodden,
So that you can't illuminate each other
As fellow children and priests
Of the Living God!"

I suddenly notice that the gray backdrop
Against which we have been walking
Has become an eerie, phantasmal black.
"Where are we?" I cry out in alarm.

His gaze pierces me.
"We are in
A metaphor of your mind."

"A what?"

"Blanca,
You have read
More than enough in your lifetime
To know exactly what I mean.
We're in a mindscape,
A visual representation
Of a part of your inner being."

"THIS is in me?"

"Yes."

"Where are You?"
I know immediately
That the Triune God
Does not occupy
This place in my mind.

He waves me forward.
"Come," He says.

Everything in me
Wants to turn and run.
I will my feet
To follow Him.

The ground beneath us
Echoes with an icy hollowness.
The dark is getting darker, deeper.
The air around me feels thick,
Heavy the way I imagine
A shroud or casket would feel.
I am dying, I am dying here -

"This place breeds death,
But you are not dying," He reassures me.

Before us,
A mountain rears its craggy head,
Defiantly beckoning any
To climb its jagged peaks
To breach the wicked-looking fortress
At its summit.

"Who lives there?" I ask,
Pointing at the peak.

"The Enemy," He tells me.

I blink.
"He lives there. Here.
In my mind."

"He does."
Jesus motions toward the fortress.
"That's his stronghold."

At the mention of the word "stronghold,"
I understand what is triggering
This imaginary excursion.
The book Didymus recommended that I read -
Joyce Meyer's The Battlefield of the Mind -
I started devouring it today,
And the opening pages are an exposé
About the types of strongholds
That the Enemy establishes in our minds.

Seeing
How he has set up shop
In my own
Is making me quite ill.

Jesus and I are quiet for a long time
As we assess the situation. 
I already know all the years of negative thinking
That have contributed to this monstrosity
Towering miles high in my mental landscape.
Finally, I break the silence with the loaded question,
"Now what?"

"Now, it has to come down."

"I can't tear that down!"
The exclamation escapes my lips
Before I even know what I'm saying. 

He grabs me by the shoulders and,
Slightly shaking me,
Turns me toward Him.
"Don't you see?
The Enemy wants you to believe that.
The more you feel like that,
The more We can't get in
To start ripping this place up by its roots.
You cannot defeat the Enemy
Alone and unaided,
But that's how you sound,
Like you're expected to be up on that mountain,
Storming the stronghold
By yourself.
Defeating him doesn't happen like that.
Defeating him happens
With the spiritual and even practical support
That the Triune God exerts in the world at large,
And in your life in particular for you.
We can't get in there to do battle
If you're always focused on
The mistakes of your past,
The apprehensions and doubts about your present,
And your fears for the future.
Those thoughts - those patterns of thinking -
Keep Us hedged off,
Unable to approach
This terrible place. 
Those thoughts - those patterns of thinking -
Are also drowning out the messages
You would otherwise hear from Us."

I am trembling.
"This is that whole renewing of the mind business
That Paul mentions in Romans 12:2?"

"Yes."

"And my mind hasn't been renewed yet?..."

"It's a work in process.
It has been for many years.
You've come a far distance,
But there is still a long way to go."

I glance at the stronghold.
"I don't want to do this."

"You must do this.
You have to choose to change your thoughts.
That's why Joyce's book
Resonates so profoundly with you."

"Out of all the competing messages
Warring for dominance in my mind,
How will I know it's You?"
It is my usual, desperately urgent question.

"You will simply know," He assures me.
"The same way you knew you had to go to New York.
The same way you knew you had to move to Arizona.
The same way you knew all the other things
You have known in your life,
All the strange promptings and urgings you have followed,
All the decisions you made on little more than a 'gut feeling.'

"When God came to Elijah,
He was not in the wind,
The earthquake,
Nor the fire.
It was God's still, small voice
That called him to the cave entrance
On Mount Horeb
And told him what to do next." *

I nod,
But I'm not looking forward to this.

"Finish up Joyce's book.
Start paying closer attention to Mine. 
There are weapons in the Scriptures,
Spiritual truths that will unlock explosives
To tear that stronghold down.
Pray, and pray, and keep praying.
We're listening, you know."

I nod again. "I know. I mean, I know."
(He understands what I mean.)

 "Good." He takes a deliberate step forward.

I look at Him, at the stronghold,
And back at Him again.

"It's your choice," He reminds me.

I keep my eyes
Pinned upon Him
As I take a step forward
Into the colossal unknown...

* I Kings 19

Tainted

I said it before
My visit to New York,
That I had a sense of foreboding
About the trip.

I have returned to Arizona,
And feel tainted by it.

My attitude this past week
Has been characterized by
Anger, frustration, and worry...
I don't want to talk to anyone,
And I wish no one would talk to me...
Messed-up, unwholesome thoughts
Are making random appearances
In my head...
I seem unable to focus,
Unable to soak up Scripture,
Unable to properly pray...
I feel physically fatigued, drained and achy,
Wanting to sleep and sleep
To avoid life in general.

Father,
I feel like last week
Opened up a can of worms
In my thoughts.
I haven't been the same
Since my confessions to Didymus.
All the issues
I try hardest to avoid
Were laid bare,
And I thought about and remembered
Things I haven't thought about or remembered
In decades.

Re-order my mind,
Or fill me with so much of
Your Holy Presence,
That there is no room for
These circuitous, out-of control,
Destructive, self-destructive thoughts.
Calm me,
Still me
Long enough
To hear You!

I am being assailed
By the Enemy!
I cannot withstand him alone!
Come to my aid, Lord God,
And give succor
To my failing heart
In my hour of need!...

Author's Note: About two hours after posting this blog, I open up my Holy Bible app to look up a scripture verse, and am confronted with the following "Daily Verse:"

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. (1 Peter 5:8, 9)

Hmmm. Point taken!

Ransom

When you think of the word
RANSOM
What images do you see
In your mind's eye?

I see the movie "Taken"
With Liam Neeson.
His daughter is kidnapped,
And he is instantly transformed
Into Superdad Ninja,
Mercilessly kicking bad guy butt
Across the cinematic screen.
Enemies are defeated
In the personal war he wages
Against the forces of darkness.
He reclaims his daughter.
He takes her home,
And the family lives
Happily Ever After.

The story of our own
Ransom and Deliverance
Is no less dramatic,
And is replayed
A million times daily
Across the hearts and lives
Of humanity.

Anointed One,
You ransomed Yourself
For us.
You redeem the life
We shattered in Eden.
You died the death
We deserved for the sin-guilt
Of our disobedience.
You hung, accursed on a tree,
To grant the sons and daughters
Of rebellion
Access to Your Almighty Father.
You paid the price
For our iniquities.
You bore, and continue to bear,
The burdens of our sins,
So that when Your Father
Gazes on us,
He sees not us
In all our devastating apostasy,
But You,
In the completeness
Of Your Atonement.

When I hear the word
RANSOM
I now think of You,
Battling the forces of darkness...
Conquering Death...
Providing the bonafide
Happily Ever After
That my soul cries out for.
I am the daughter,
Captured and beaten,
In my own action movie,
Clinging to the hope
That only faith in You can provide...

Psalm 32:1-2 - A Meditation

"Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
    whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity,
    and in whose spirit there is no deceit."

Father,
Thank You
For chasing me down
With Your Word.

You have been with me
Since before I was born.
You have watched over me,
And protected me,
And gotten me out of scrapes
More times than I can count.
"Why?" I have often wondered.

As the Psalmist prays,
I ask You, Father,
To remember me in Your Mercy
For all the days of my life.

Praise to You,
Most Holy and Wonderful God!
Grant that I may testify of
Your kindness to me
To all whom I meet,
In both this life
And the next!

Prayer for Courage

In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said:

"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;

the whole earth is full of his glory!" And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: "Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for." (Isaiah 6:1-7)

Oh Lord,
I didn't have this vision of You,
And yet I know precisely
How Isaiah felt.

He felt like me:
Small, oppressed,
Knowing full well
All that he had done
And left undone in his life...
Burdened by the weight of
Unspoken, unthought-of sins,
And the impact those sins
Had exerted on his own
And others' lives.
He felt like this,
In the 21st century vernacular:
"God, are You kidding me?
There's NO WAY that You want me
For any of Your plans.
There's NO WAY that You want me
To minister to other people.
Me? ME? Look at who You're talking to!
I'm a hot mess,
And I'm not getting any better!
No, NO God,
Not me,
I am not worthy."

Well..that's how my internal rant sounds.

Actually, that's a condensed version of it.

As Didymus and I
Mutually exert a cathartic influence on each other,
Drawing out of one another
Information we are loathe to share with others,
There is a point when I am crying on her bed,
Desperately clutching a pillow
Like, somehow, it is going to save me.
I am cracking wide open,
Spilling things out of myself
That I thought had been successfully buried
For anywhere between one and three decades.
I am telling Didymus
About Isaiah,
But I don't stop with the verse
Where's he's crying out about his unclean lips.
I continue to relate the rest -
How the seraph brought him
A burning coal from the Altar of Sacrifice,
Touched it to his lips,
And took away his guilt.

I focus on the first part of the story.
She focuses on the latter.

Finally, she asks,
"Who are you to question God?"

Ouch. That stung!

But I acknowledge that she is correct.

And then, later on in the conversation:
"It takes a messed up person
To help other messed up people."

Hmmm, Didymus.
Good point.

So.

My Lord. My King.
I have exerted much time and energy
On living a low-profile life,
Afraid to draw attention to myself
For fear of the judgment and scorn of others.
I have squandered the gifts You have given me.
I have willfully walked on paths
Contrary to Your Will.
I am carrying around the guilt and shame
Of past and present sins,
Knowing fully that You have already forgiven me,
But being unable to forget,
Hand it over to You,
And move on.

O Lord,
Forgive me!
Cleanse me!
I bring these burdens to
The foot of Your Throne,
Understanding that
Giving it over to You
Is the only way
For me to continue to grow
In Your Will.

Have I been using the past
To curtail my present and future?
Probably.
Give me courage
To continue to grow in You.
Give me courage
To seek Your Will for me.
Be near me, Father,
In the days and months and years and eons
To come...

Compelled

When Didymus told me
That she needed emergency surgery,
I began asking a series of questions
Designed to find out
If she would have anyone
To take care of her in the days following.

Week one was being covered by her mom,
But then,
Her mother would need to resume
Her live-in nurse assignment.

Week two - alone? 
I chewed on that piece of information
Like a dog worrying an old bone to death,
And it left a terrible taste in my mouth.
Several days passed. 
I waited to see if the
Feeling overtaking me
Would dissipate and leave me.

It did not.  

Before I really understood
Why I was acting,
I found myself informing Didymus
That I would be staying with her
For week two of her recovery.

Considering that I had known her
For less than three months,
And that this meant getting on a plane
And flying back to New York,
It was all a bit sudden. 

Adalheid - God, bless her! -
Did not question me
Or plant seeds of doubt in me
When I told her
That I felt I must go.
Father,
Thank you for giving me a best friend
Willing to respect me enough
To not deter me from doing
Crazy things on impulse
When I sense that You are behind them. 

Is this a foretaste of what is meant
When they talk about
"Discerning the will of God?"
That You can pick me up
At a moment's notice
And drop me off
2200 miles away
From my current residence
Is a bit disconcerting!

O Lord,
Sometimes,
I feel like
A spiritual babe in the woods.
Protect me
As I walk the path
You set before me.
I cannot always see
Six inches before my face;
Teach me to trust You,
To trust the Holy Spirit
At work in me
When I find myself doing things
Far out of line
With my everyday life...

Channeling Mommie

Adalheid's birthday morning,
I am tiptoeing around the house,
Hanging pink accent streamers,
Packing up a bag of birthday goodies,
And making a huge sign:
"Happy Birthday.
We Love You So!"

I step back for a minute,
And am stricken with
Memories of my mother
Doing these very same kinds of things
On our birthdays and holidays. 

As deeply as I have loved my mother,
I have often felt as though
I didn't absorb as much of her
Good and thoughtful and pleasing traits and qualities
As I would have liked. 

As I look around the kitchen,
I think to myself,
"Perhaps, God,
I have been wrong..." 

The thought occurs to me
That the traits and qualities in question
Simply needed some time to germinate,
And that in the years ahead,
They will bear beautiful blooms.

"Really, Lord?"

I feel a cosmic nod, a hug that emanates
From the streamers and sign...

When the Vet Called...

...And told me that the biopsy returned
An adenoma that was not cancerous,
I did the dance of joy
Inside myself.

"There are a few atypical cells," he told me,
"And you might want to consider getting lumpectomies,
But this is very good news."
Very good news indeed!

My Lord God,
Creator of All Things Good,
Thank you for watching over Gabrielle,
And granting her more time
Than my faithless mind could conjure.

You have always been good to me.
Thank you,
On behalf of myself, Adalheid,
And everyone else who loves that dog.

I can rest, knowing that, at least
I have kept one promise made to Mommie. 
Gabrielle is with me, in a wonderful place
And is loved and cared for,
But most importantly,
She is being watched over by You.
Thank You for allowing me
To act as a steward for her,
One more example of Your glorious creation
Who brings joy into the lives of others...