You know what it feels like to step off a step onto a step you didn’t know was there or to miss a step. Thankful that you didn’t fall, you are jarred by the unexpected and abrupt. It feels like your whole body is stunned.
I’ve been jarred during the last couple of days. No “omg” exclamations. More like moaning moments—just walking around and moaning in hurt, sorrow, wondering how do I fix that?
The easy one first. Someone is going to have to crawl out on the porch roof and wash my office windows. Why didn’t I think of that when I installed that bay window? I can hang on or I can wash.
I was reading about Jesus’ temptation. Satan offers Jesus all the nations of the world. All their glory and power. He had acquired them when Adam and Eve handed them to him. Now he was willing to give them all back to Jesus. All Jesus had to do is bow and worship him. Here is what jarred me:
“Ever wonder how important worship is? Ask satan.”
(Jesus: A Theography, Leonard Sweet, Frank Viola, Thomas Nelson 2012).
When? I was confronted! When in the recent times have I worshiped at the level where nations were involved? What kind of worship elements would shift world power centers or power centers within me?
It gets even more personal. I have seen people so moved by the holiness of God or their own need that they walked to the altar when no altar call was issued. I’ve seen them kneel at the pew to worship or confess. When was the last time I was in a “worship service” when that response was even remotely called for? If worship is that powerful, how does the worship leader, lead? What is the worship environment?
I’m reading “Bittersweet” by Shauna Niequist.(Zondervan 2010). It is kind of a frilly book with lots of talk about girl things except when she lobs a grenade into my heart. Like yesterday:
“This year, we understand that staying married is indeed an accomplishment, and that staying married well—connected and intimate and giving—sometimes requires every last thing we have to give.”
“Staying married well.” Catchy phrase. Caught me by the throat. Missed that step! Jarred!
My morning reading moves from something light and moves to heavy as if I need to give my soul a few warm up pitches before facing the .400 hitters.
I’ve been reading Father Fiction by Donald Miller, (Howard Books, 2010). It was first published with the title, To Own A Dragon. The sub-title is, “Chapters for a fatherless generation.” Miller writes about growing up without a resident father, in fact he didn’t know his father was alive until age 30.
I talk to people frequently whose family has no daily connection with a genuine father figure. A family bush with no connective tissue to men. I hear and see large damage as well as little things that determine life trajectory. On pages 70-71 Miller captures some things that explain a lot. Jarred! I grabbed for a railing.
“I felt there was a club of men I didn’t belong to.”
“I felt as though all the men in the world secretly met in some warehouse late at night to talk about man things, to have secret handshakes….”
“And then…at the end of the meeting, they gathered around and reminded each other that under no circumstances was anybody to tell me about these things.”
If I ruled the world—or even had a warehouse—we would gather to talk about the secret handshakes.
OMG! (A moaning prayer)
©2014 D. Dean Benton
Benton Quest House— http://bentonquesthouse.weebly.com