Friday, April 18, 2014

Castles Made of Sand...




If there was an apt description of what the past calendar year would look like, 2013 could best be described as a heavy wave washing away every single thing I built on my little beach called life. With the exception of my children (and even that was washed away as it related to Youngest Heir), and a few scattered allies, NOTHING remains. To give a more vivid picture if the sandcastle example isn't enough, my city (life) looks like Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped. However, I think the image of the sandcastle is most appropriate if for no other reason there is a certain theological context that I will explore. 

But more on that in a minute.

So what did this tidal wave of destruction take in 2013? What exactly was washed into the sea? A number of things which were integral to my existence and happiness: My church home, my best friend, the one person I truly loved and desired, my job, my emotions, my natural home, and in some cases my faith. I'm sure in time these things can be replaced. There will be other jobs and a career from it, my faith is already slowly being restored due to my time in Seminary. Another Church home can be found, new allies made, and even as painful as it is to type, the love I lost (or gave away) can be replaced. I even will have a better place to live. So that's good. Yet that still doesn't explain the why. Why all that transpired happened. There are two simple reasons for this: one spiritual and one not so spiritual. Let's explore them both.


The first and most obvious reason was that on some level God either caused the storm or allowed it to happened. I believe the reason for this is that God needed to see what my infrastructure was made up of in a barren season. In order to achieve this, like so many men of faith before me, God had to make me Anonymous. You see according to Alicia Britt Chole, author of Anonymous: Jesus' Hidden Years and Yours, every so often God needs to see what our roots and branches look like. God needs to see how sturdy we are and thus the excess in our lives (think tree leaves: are stripped away. Once my coverings and trappings were gone, would I survive this test or would I crumble. At the core lie two simple questions that would yield two simple answers: 1) On what ground did I build my faith and 2) Where did I store my treasures?  To the first, the honest answer are that I built my home/faith on sand. I did not obey God in a lot of areas in spite of being sent messengers, signs, and instructions. The response to the second question is even more direct: my treasures stored were no where near heaven. They were in that unstable beach house I put on the sand. In effect, I had become lazy. My infrastructure weak and bloated; like a corrupt city entity I had become self serving and began to take Christ for granted. Thus in essence while I was sprouting leaves I bore no fruit. As the scripture points out, I needed to be put in a whole lot of manure in order to grow. There was no better way to cover me in the mess I needed than to remove the sand castles I was hiding in. But I knew better. On these matters Jesus is clear where to build your home and where to store your treasures. So snarky one reading this, since there are NO social promotions in the Kingdom of God, since there are no sliding or curves I get to rebuild. This time one proper ground and storing my treasures where they belong. 


The second reason is more natural but no less true. Nothing was really taken from me. By not following the instructions in the manual I willingly gave it away. I was not supposed to return to my church. I was supposed to move on. I was supposed to do my best in Arkansas, I got lazy. I was supposed to be more mindful of the needs of my allies and our joint boundaries and I wasn't. I should have never let her go. But I did. I should have told EVERYBODY to fudge off and begged her forgiveness but I didn't. I chose people and a space that is now long gone. Mine was one of hubris. Mine was thinking I knew best. It was the never ending fatal flaw that has brought me to ruin before: arrogance. Nothing was really taken. I gave it all away by not following the rules. This is the truth I take to bed every night.


But what do I do with these realizations? While it is true, I survived, but as one who survived the fire (or in this case a typhoon). But survival isn't necessarily what all this is about. This is about a mature Christian using bad materials, on bad ground, which happened to store his treasures that got washed into the sea.  So the first realization that I need to rebuild, following the instructions laid out. I don't know what's best all the time, if ever really and by not following the plan I'm going to continually get my ish washed into the sea. Yet an underlying theme to in this is something I never really allowed myself to do: grieve. Part of the reason I came out of blog retirement is to write these pure lamentations so I can later write songs of jubilee. It is time that I deal with all the pain in my life; it's especially time I dealt with all the residual scars, the crushed dreams, the guilt and the utter sadness. That's what I am putting on my cross this Good Friday. This is what I am burying in that tomb so that on Sunday I can rise a different man. But I understand the process of the crucifixion. This hurts. It means part of me will have to die so the rest of me can rise. We all have to go through it in some form or another...

For me this process involved learning one simple truth:

"Castles made of sand...slip into the sea....eventually"

Giving Honor to My Creator, who is forever praised, Amen

In Truth and Transparency,
Straight, No Chaser
TLT
4/18/2014
8:56pm

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Sand castles. That image really speaks to what a lot of us go through in our lives. Some people build these amazing sculptures that make the crowd say "Oooh! and "Ahh!"...only to have them washed away.You really have to wonder if it was worth it all.
Anonymous. That word really spoke to me. As I think about my life, I find that hidden behind my public face, the real me is anonymous. For a moment, I tried to step into the spotlight. God let me know that it was not my time to shine. Getting pushed back into the shadows hurt- especially because the pushing was done by a person that I had pulled into my closely guarded inner circle and called a friend. In retrospect, I am glad all of that was washed away too. I am building on solid ground now. Who knows!...Maybe as we rebuild, we might find ourselves as neighbors. ;)