No specific news today on the health front, other than the headaches are back and I’m staying current with Tylenol (thank you, Diane!) We await a consultation with the super specialist with the improbable title of Neurointerventionalist Radiologist. 🙂

I’m not sure where this blog is going but I feel called to be transparent as to what I’m thinking and how life for Diane and me is progressing. If you are reading this, you may or may not see things as I do and that’s OK!  I hope this calling is not perceived as a kind of self promotion, as many blogs are probably inclined. I flip the case and would want my dear friends and family to be similarly transparent so we can live and share life in close community, where those things that make life livable flourish.

Here is the window into today at 11350 Turtleback Lane.

I woke up thinking about the veil this morning. Some of you know that this is not a new topic for me. I think about the veil regularly. In a broad way, the veil can be described as the dividing line between the sacred and profane. Or, between the natural and the spiritual. In my view and experience, it is that which separates us from God. Now, some (whose views I respect but with whom I disagree) believe that, in essence we ARE God and only need to rid ourselves of the loads of baggage that blind us to the reality. Others who also hold views I respect but with whom I disagree, believe there is no God … at least not a personal one … so there can be no veil.

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronising nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. … Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God.“

As Mark describes in 15:38, the very first thing that happened after “Jesus breathed his last,” was the tearing of this massive curtain in two.

This can be read as either a nice little myth or as a hinge point in all of human (perhaps cosmic) history. Just as Lewis leaves us a clear set of choices, so, too, does this reported event. What is its significance?

Yes, there is a veil but now it is rendered permeable. Jesus is the mediator and the Spirit is the guide.

Where is God? How do we know he is there? What a great topic for conversation!  Atheists, Theists, and Believers all grapple with this.

The promise is Emmanuel. God with us. Like a number of you, Diane and I believe in this as much as we believe that love is real and not an illusion. As much as we believe that joy makes happiness seem sweet but transitory and even hollow and deceptive. We believe this because we have experienced this unpredictable and inexplicable thing called grace. We believe this because, when we surrender our self interest and idols (however frequently or infrequently), our eyes and hearts are open to a reality far deeper, fuller and more eternal than that which the world normally presents.

Many of you have heard me describe in vivid detail when the veil all but disappeared. But, what of the other times, like now, as we live through this current crisis? Of course, we are extremely close to some of you who have stepped out of the boat and are living or have lived in that raw tension where the veil undulates between opaque and sheer gossamer. Thank you for your transparency and leadership!

Then, there is humor. Diane and I laugh and joke with one another and others. We shake our heads in puzzlement at the kind of impish nature of a God who could orchestrate that impossible and miraculous voice text last November. Clearly, that veil opened briefly so we would know he is ALWAYS right here. As he is right now.

God is wholly God and I am not. And, I am perfectly fine and deeply grateful for that. If there is illusion, it actually is the veil. It has been made obsolete. And, that obsolescence is why we are held so dearly and can gaze upon each day as a precious gift.

Paul writes to the church in Corinth (1 Corinthians 13:12-13): For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (Nod to Diane).

Another 3:30am wakeup. Diane says we should just move to the east coast and I’d fit in, waking up at 6:30. However, i can’t argue with the volume of quiet time I have.

Jesus Calling is pretty appropriate these days.  Actually, when I’ve been in this theme before, yet not facing imminent struggles, I guess I never feel that far away from its point about relying on Jesus.  One of the two scriptures is Jeremiah 1: “I will be with you; I will never forsake you. … Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”

A very familiar passage. I was reflecting on the meaning of strong and courageous. How do we link the apparent paradox of that with the knowledge of our own weakness and brokenness? Is it something like, “Buck Up!. No need to be weak and broken for I am with you?”

Quick segue to Matthew 14 and Peter getting out of the boat, sinking and crying out and Jesus responding (I don’t think in an admonishment), “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

Some of you may know that I have Rembrandt’s beautiful painting of Matthew 8:23 hanging in my study, where Jesus calms the storm and says, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Two different scenarios, of course, but closely related.

My new favorite song for the past year or so has been Hillsong’s “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)”

These things were going through my head this morning as I contemplated strong and courageous.  It ended up going something like this:

We need strength to become courageous. We can assume strength to assist with our courage and maybe that gets us fairly far. In my experience, that ultimately failed. I was a very strong guy, quite capable, and actually pretty courageous. Unfortunately, I wasn’t courageous in some areas that really counted. And, my strength was kind of like Samson’s hair. All it took was some pretty good sharp shears and “poof!”

Jumping forward to courage before going back to strength and where all this is headed: Courage is about taking risks. Our faith as practiced widely is probably rarely about taking risks. Can anyone remember the last sermon that absolutely nailed what stepping out of the boat looks like in our present setting … when, perhaps, we’re not facing an existential crisis?

The gospel allows us to take risks. In fact, it requires it. Raw, unadulterated, risk. Sidebar: that was behind my last ounce of will when I quickly replied to God’s crisp and clear invitation to come home with, “You mean right now?”  As I’ve told it a gazillion times, he calmly said, “what are you waiting for?” Resolve dissolved. Courage flowed divinely and surrender compelled stepping out of the boat into the vastness of the unknown/known. Grace held me above the waves and there was no “you of little faith.”  Only infinite love and eternal life.

So, courage and surrender are the flip sides of the same coin. Explain that to this world! Courage to shed the old and lean into the new. Courage to do battle. Pick up a small stone and sling it against the giant, with the full knowledge we live within God’s reign and rule.

And, that’s where our strength comes from. Whether we doubt it or acknowledge it, it needs reminding.

Does our faith waver when things get especially tough? What, actually, do we have faith in?  I’m not one to judge and am “lost without you” (as the song “Breathe” repeats over and over), right now my faith doesn’t have a lot to do with expecting a certain outcome and making my belief in God dependent on that outcome.

Jesus is my strength and refuge. He performed the miraculous and maintained his faith in me and rescued me.  The rest is just the dessert.

And, through Jesus, I am surrounded by dozens and dozens (hundreds?) of dear friends, loved ones and even strangers, praying and offering support (strength). They and we are the body of Christ. This is how church was designed. I can’t help but be filled with immense joy. In fact, that joy is the source of my tears, which have flowed semi regularly over the past two weeks.

I look inside for fear and don’t find it in a big way. Anxiety? Yes.  Does Diane have fear? Probably but it is tempered by her remarkable faith.

As I write this, my head hurts. It had been better the last two or three days. Last night, some pain struck behind my right eye. Not a terrible pain by past standards but enough for me to take Tylenol, something I don’t want to do because I don’t want to mask symptoms. I need to stay on top of this.  Took Tylenol early today. Hope I don’t have to do it again.

Diane and I are both coming to grips with what this is. I have a time bomb sitting next to my brain. It can go off at any time, perhaps with a slight warning, perhaps not. We are fighting for my life right now.

But, we were given Life and we live with that most fundamental of all pieces of knowledge.

We have stepped out of the boat and feel embraced in his arms. Because we are still flesh and citizens of this world, we still look down at the water and it is hard. We are not saints.

Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of another sweet day. Thank you for my many brothers and sisters. Thank you for those whose strength and faith flow from you and into us. Thank you for doctors who care. Thank you for your faith in us. Thank you for grace and love. Thank you for joy in the midst of the storm. Oh my, that’s incredible! Lord, help me and us bless those who are hurting or lonely or ill or feel unloved. Help me to be your eyes, heart and hands.

Thank you for listening, dear ones.