God’s Thoughts to Me
To what can I compare this generation? It is like children playing a game in the public square. They complain to their friends, “We played wedding songs, and you didn’t dance, so we played funeral songs, and you didn’t mourn” (Matthew 11:16-17, NLT).
Prisons of Boxes
Pain and exhaustion greet me every morning when I arise to the gift of a new day our Lord has made, a day to rejoice and to be glad in Him.
I am enveloped and embraced by a debillitating chronic disease, Fm/CFS. According to the clever people, this illness has disabled my whole nervous system and not much is working the way it should!
Sometimes, when my bird friends welcome the new day with a beautiful song, their joyful singing cause a sensory overload in my body and pain washes over me like the waves of the sea, breaking on the sand … wave upon wave upon wave of excruciating pain.
When the frolicking rays of the sun invite me to come and play this game called life, I have to seek shade and darkness for their brightness pierce my body … stabbing … cutting … wounding, and the result, more pain!
My mind is encamped by another Fibro friend, Mr Fog! This guy steals my thoughts and words like a thief in the night; for this one truly is invisible!
But this box has another side … the only side visible to the world. It is beautifully wrapped in colorful gift wrap. It is decorated with satin ribbons and perky bows of lace … a frivilous box fiiled with jokes and tears.
But this is a facade … a heartbreaking, lying facade. It tells another story the world chooses to believe and adds tons upon tons of heartache. For it causes a short-circuit, overburdening an already disabled nervous system.
The world mostly finds it easier to label this illness as a monster in the mind; a psychological monster.
But this time the pain cuts much deeper than flesh … it cripples the heart and the soul. This monster has the ability to inflict pain where it hurts the most.
Yet, our Pappa God, in His divine wisdom, knew that I was held captive, floating aimlessly in another prison … the prison called “The Ways of The World”. The prison warden of this jail was a detestable master of telling lies.
He overwhelmed me with neatly wrapped boxes of systems, rules and laws. Political systems … economical systems … social systems … systems of morality … but … the most dangerous of all; religious systems, laws and regulations.
Systems and laws forcing the common folk to hold their tongues and not query the status quo.
The maestros of these songs want to play wedding songs for their followers to dance … or funeral songs for them to cry. They love a charade of play-acting and role-playing with them as the directors of activities.
They call the shots, but are seldom happy with our performance for we can never measure up to their demands.
We are damned if we do … and damned if we don’t … So the games go on and on and on in a never ending circle of performance.
And I danced and mourned and cried and performed until the blessed day arrived when my Pappa released me from that unbearable burden … that prison of pretense … of trying to please the world and the directors of its ways.
Our Pappa took away my ability to mourn and dance and perform on the lyrics of the songs the world sings. My feet and my heart ached from all the useless striving on the dance floor of life.
He freed my heart and spirit from the prison of this world and gave me citizenship in heaven.
He showed me the absolute futility of trying to do what only He can do and which He does with excellence, saving me and His creation from the chains of sin, death, chaos and destruction.
He wiped away all my tears, healed my broken heart and whispered love-filled words to my soul. His song of love, joy and peace opened a new world to my understanding.
He opened all the worldly boxes imprisoning me, freed me and gathered me into His rest … into His life … into His Loving Embrace.
Much love XX