Excerpt from SHEER INJURY, Coming Soon

He paced the floor. The voice would not cease; he needed for the man to be quiet. He could not make sense of what was happening to him. What was the incessant rustling sound and the voice that would not keep quiet? At first it started in his dreams. He would awaken with sweat pouring from his brow and his heart beating wildly in his chest. They were disturbing images that plagued him, while he slept. He was in a dark and unfamiliar place. It was cold and damp and he was alone. For some reason he could not imagine that he was more than a mere child, in his dream. Yet, he was flooded with mature emotions. His fear was palpable. He could feel the bile rising up through his throat and into his mouth. He could not be a child and understand this kind of terror.

He could not remember, from his dream, the place where he was kept. He did not remember seeing other children where he was, but he could hear children’s laughter in the distance. The man would come to visit him to bring him food and water. He would unchain his hands so he could eat, but his feet remained in shackles. What he could not determine was if he was in a room or in a hole. It was dark and the ground or the floor beneath his was cold … or was it damp? He was blindfolded, so he was unable to tell if it was night or day. What he knew for certain was the biting horror that assailed him. It never left him, it was his constant companion.

IT IS ... UNTIL IT ISN'T

The life we live is governed by social constraints. We are immersed in the dos and don’ts of the world in which we exist. We are submerged in the etiquette of our time and doused with the familial adaptations of such. The old adage, “We are a product of our environment” is more true than we would like to believe. We go about our daily business making sure that we fit the bill and those with whom we associate are expected to do likewise. If not, the sense of guilt that invades our false sense of peace is immeasurable. We feel the wet ink stain of the REBEL imprinted upon our foreheads and no matter how we attempt to ignore it, its liquid shame runs down our face and into our eyes. We are blinded by it. The lines of our dynamic backdrop are blurred and askew. We cannot make out the horizon. We stumble forward, groping and hoping that we are headed in the direction of the impossible…if we believe the hype.

The mold was set by our forefathers and our immediate caste (I mean family) added a slight spin, but never truly broke free. We are in the matrix. Even our rebellion is text book. We walk, talk, love, laugh, live, work and die in line. Anyone who dares to claim their uniqueness merely takes the garment and changes it color. She/he may shorten or lengthen the code, but it is cut from the same cloth. Any real variation from the “norm” is rarely seen. Life is as life has been with varying shades of green, blue, white and yellow. There is nothing new under the sun. We dance to the same music, played by the same instruments that we convince ourselves is nothing like it was – all cut from the same tree, shaved off of the same animal, created in the same laboratories.

I have come to wonder, in the not so recent past, if we can really call to action “Be in the world, but not of it.” We flow along the same channels, being transported by the ebb and flow of each nuance and wave. We take into consideration those around us and call into remembrance the definition and meaning of our lives from our ancestral common thread. What did our forefathers do when times got hard? I am not referring strictly to the course of action in which they realized the manifestation of their desires. We look back on the thought process that got them to their goal and utilize that as a barometer to gauge life’s events and our interactions with those whom we come into contact with on our journey. We take our finite view and experience and define everyone and everything we come in contact with, taking no thought of their process. We judge. We condemn. We damage and hurt people with our tunnel vision; it is this way, until it isn’t.

As believers we must understand that our societal norms are not based on community, it is based on separatism. We are encouraged to think about how a certain action will benefit self. We are programmed to look for the personal profit in what happens around us. We can pretend it is not the case, until we cannot pretend anymore. We can do unto others as we would have them do unto us, until we can’t. We can give, until we can’t. We smile, until we can’t. We engage and participate and revel in accomplishments, until we can’t. We perform…until we can’t. Then what? We begin to push against the mold. We fight against the constraints. We experience stress, pressure and tension in our soul because we are kicking against the pricks of expectation and adaptation. Our mind tries to expand and the cast bulges. This creates friction in our circles because, at times, we want to experience the polar opposite of what is our life. We are happy, until we’re not.

We believers have God, in Christ, in us. He is the same, yesterday, today and forever. He is immutable…unchanging. He was. He is. He is to come. Yet, we live out the mundane looking for the supernatural end. Our lives, lived in this world, are not to be experienced the same fashion, as those who don’t acknowledge God. We walk behind the mold; we are not imprisoned within it. We act and respond from a place that cannot be tainted by what is sensual or temporal. Our perspective is eternal. It is…and it will forever be. When life happens, we reach inward to a place well beyond our focal reality to have an experience which supersedes the norm. We are created in His image and in His likeness. We have a means that is not of this world by which we can determine what the outcome will be by having the belief/faith of God. When He spoke, He created. He did not take into account what He experienced with five senses. He knew it, spoke it, believed it and it was. It still is.

REALIZED LOVE

Mankind is quick to proclaim love then inflate it in an attempt to cause the recipient of said love to believe that this love is different from all others. Both males and females are guilty of doing this. Our infatuation with the thought of another person becoming vulnerable to our emotion is a great boost to our ego. We consider the immediate present, cast the moment across time and create a blanket of here and now into eternity. “My big love, dissimilar from anything you have ever experienced, will last forever. You can count on it when you can count on nothing else.” This statement, we hope, will elicit a trust to rival that of mother and newborn child. In our minds, it is true; albeit tied to this precise and particular moment. And, yes, there are times when we can stretch and lengthen that minute into times – equaling to hours, days and even years.

We move from this span of time to the next thriving and surviving off of our grandiose infatuation. Can it really be called love until it is tested? Is it possible to love someone without questioning motives and intentions in an attempt to know them in a way that no one else does? Is love birthed or does it evolve? Is it one thing, and then go through a metamorphosis to become real love? Metamorphosis is a profound change from one stage to the next.  It is a complete change of form, structure, or substance; a transformation. Love is created through the process of morphing from stage to stage, moment to moment, and time to time.

Love is patient and patience is developed through trials and experiences. It grows and magnifies as the opportunity to exercise it presents itself. There are situations that require less patience than another. Thus, this characteristic of love is expanded and stretched over time. In true love there is no breaking point. The elasticity of love never remains brittle; it grows ever stronger as it moves from fire to fire. When one fire creates a frailty another fire is needed to realign the DNA makeup of it. Whenever this phenomenon is experienced, some “love” experience fractures. It is in this moment that conditions are realized. To give the benefit of the doubt, most proclamations of unconditional love are perceived as true – and it is, within the confines of that particular moment. It isn’t until patience is worn thin, without the effort to reinforce it, that a realization of limitations is exposed.

Love does not hunt for its own way; it is not self-seeking. In our society, this characteristic of love is not fostered. We are conditioned to embrace the “What about me?” or “What have you done for me, lately?” state of mind. Western civilization has thrived off of looking to please oneself and sometimes to the hurt of those we say we love. Again, we can stave off (or hide) this stipulation for a period of time. However, if we feel like we are giving more than we are getting then we feel an innate compulsion to find ways to “do me.” Our love for material things often cause us to ignore the things that we need the most to survive as loving beings. A new dawning appears as we consider what we are lacking, without grasping hold of the wealth of humanity-laden needs that are being met. I am not talking about those situations where the basic financial necessities are being withheld. There is a safety in knowing that bills can be paid, food put on the table, and a roof over ones head. People need to feel safe. I am referring to the fluff – the pomp and circumstance that is visible to the outside world. This is where most of us draw the line, so to speak. When we begin to believe that if others cannot witness this love, in a manner that is visible to the naked eye, then ‘love’ grows cold and dies (like a neglected fire in a fireplace).

God has given us a blueprint that allows us to measure our claims to love. 1 Corinthians 13 is a real example of unconditional love; love that never fails or remains thin and brittle. It is stretched, but never breaks. It is strengthened in the same furnace that creates weakness. Real love becomes malleable through tests and trials so it can be shaped in a manner that prepares it for what is to come. Once it has been re-shaped, heat is needed to strengthen it for its new purpose.

It may be of great benefit to understand that true love is created through transformation. In the beginning, we are intrigued with the promise that is held within fascination. In order for it to blossom and morph into God’s definition of love, we have to embrace the process. Just as a caterpillar move through the hidden pupa stage in order to emerge as a butterfly, thus is love. As metal is forged into its finished product through the process of heating, cooling and re-heating, love grows stronger as it endures the fiery kiln of difficulty. This is when we realize any conditions that were hidden from view. It is here that we are faced with our personal commitment to our profession of love; where we surrender to the process that produces a profound change – love that does not wax cold.