Delaware Dad

After this I saw a vast crowd, too great to count, from every nation and tribe and people and language, standing in front of the throne and before the Lamb.
-Revelation 7:9

Everyone is invited to the Jesus party and I’m trying to be like Jesus.

I’ve been excluded from social gatherings, libraries, museums, concerts, and a number of invitations because of my personal health decisions.

I’m getting accustomed to driving farther for services and being creative in filling our needs. I’ve learned that I’m pretty darn good at making friends who respect me enough to trust my judgment.

Those new friends have been the most inclusive. Our “official” social group focuses heavily on inclusion and we have become the most philosophically diverse assortment of humans I’ve ever been around.

Those who have shunned us are welcome to join, but I imagine the names they have called us still dangle from their tongues. My energy is put to good use toward myself, my children, and my friends. I do not need to reach out any longer to those who have chosen to reject us. I will, however, pray that my heart remains open

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Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.
-Romans 8:26

Words constantly fail me.

In prayer, I connect with God when I let go of my questions, doubts, declarations, and Adam-obsession of placing a name on each and every thing.

Crying, laughing, and body language convey more than any of my love letters, speeches, or blog posts ever did.

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Here is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
-Galatians 3:28

I am obsessed with status. In efforts to be humble, curious, and open, I watch myself work to be the “most” in any of these categories.

Vanity is so insidious that it can work its way into the direct intention to be less vain. It’s the same paradox that can turn healthy habits into addictions.

Balance comes through awareness, but I am hyper aware of the heirarchies I inhabit. Maintaining or improving my position in any of these is a constant distraction from my walk with Christ.

These devotionals, prayer, and a routine returning to the Word of God are the answer. There I find that we are all the same fallen creature, broken into different looking, and sounding, pieces. Our earthly heirarchies are an illusion.

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I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and my gave himself for me.
-Galatians 2:20

“You know you can’t live on God’s grace alone.” A neighbor, a nominal Christian, said this to me.

I didn’t respond, “Fucking watch me.” I wanted to.

I was in front of my house and 48 hours hadn’t passed since Mary died.

She was referring to the fact that Mary was the breadwinner of the family and I was the lead educational facilitator (she’d probably choose, “stay-at-home dad”). Surely, I must be thinking about providing for my family. No bother to the fact that I had practical, terrifying tasks immediately before me, including planning a memorial for a wife who had been in fine health two weeks ago.

God was daring me through this poor woman’s lack of faith to find a greater faith of my own.

I return to that moment when I lack resolve. I return to the feeling in my chest when I feel weak. I recall that verbal challenge when it feels like the world is in opposition to what’s best for me and my sons.

I’ve lived an impossible life since becoming a widower because of faith in Jesus Christ. He has guided me and strengthened me when no one else could. Sometimes that strength comes from living in direct opposition to material attachments.

That neighbor gave me a gift, the perfect anti-Christian slogan to drive me away from worldly concerns.

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Tobiah the Ammonite, who was at his side, said, “What they are building—even a fox climbing up on it would break down their wall of stones!”
-Nehemiah 4:3

I woke up early and opened my copy of Strength for Today for Men. I wrestled over how to discuss those who enter my life in opposition. As I have learned about setting boundaries and taking care of my holistic self, I have found doubters to be rarer and rarer in my life.

Yet here I am, doubting myself after missing a day of blogging and feeling behind on my devotional journey. My energy is low and I keep going all-out before I have properly rested.

My next steps will be simple. Two devotional posts today and forgiveness for myself.

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“When I heard these things, I sat down and wept. For some days I mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heaven.”
-Nehemiah 1:4

The most important lessons hurt the most. These are the lessons that move us to heal. When we heal ourselves, we begin to heal the world.

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Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
-Psalm 84:5

As much as I focus on my spiritual journey, I have a somatic need to manifest it in physical ways.

In other words, I gotta move. Physical disciplines like soccer, yoga, and jiu-jitsu enact my pilgrimage inside my body. Roadtrips and adventures are demonstrations of my desire to move forward from where I am to a better place. Riding bikes and simple races and games with my sons bring the Holy Spirit to the surface of my skin.

The pilgrimage is within and without.

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“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message.”
-John 17:20

Grief gave me healing. It shattered my psyche and offered me a choice: Life or Death? It haunted me that God had taken the wrong spouse. In the place where I envisioned my own violent death, I decided to live. I wish I hadn’t had to come that close. It still scares me.

That was where I stopped living in grief and chose to live in healing. It meant spending a lot of time with emotions that I now knew to be deadly. It meant that I had to sit and look at that broken psyche (it hardly seemed like “mine”). Somewhere between visions and visualizations, I found the language to communicate with my brokenness.

It’s an ancient language. I walk with a flickering torch through dark caves covered in moving pictures. It’s an inherited language seasoned with comic book motifs and rock ‘n roll tones. Even those are inherited interests from my father.

It was terrifying to see that my legacy was carved into stone by generations of neglected trauma. I can barely communicate in the language I majored in, how can I address the weight of a seemingly endless past?

The answer is in the torch. The flame gives me access to the cave. It is as magical as anything scrawled on those walls. It is fueled by God’s love. Sometimes that love comes through the memory of my late wife, that was how I first found the flame. Sometimes it radiates through a close relationship or inspiring speech. Sometimes I feel God’s love pouring directly through me, into my arm and hand and torch, and the cave is illuminated in revelation.

Then I can see far back into the pain and a little ways forward into the healing.

Generational trauma runs impossibly deep. Maybe it takes an air of foolishness to want to heal it. Maybe all great endeavors require intentional ignorance to the potential costs of failure.

Christ is a healer and the physical world is beyond healing. To follow in His path, I look to the spiritual world. That is where I can heal my soul with His love and pray that I can radiate for others.

My legacy will not be on Earth, but with Jesus Christ.

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