What if– I say the wrong thing, and ruin someone’s day? Or perhaps I get lost and lose my way?
What if– I get bad news about my health Or suddenly lose all my worldly wealth?
What if– Friends turn to foes this week? What if I can’t find the peace that I seek?
But
What if– I take it to the Lord in prayer? Bring Him every question and care?
What if– God prevented that unseen wreck; Stopped me from falling and breaking my neck?
What if– God saw the looming temptation And removed me from the situation?
How many times had God stepped in And quietly saved me from the effects of Sin?
And when He hasn’t–do I really know If my life would be better if God never said, “No!”
What if– I trusted and always gave praise When God’s answers reveal His mysterious ways?
What if– I ask and seek and knock, Knowing my God is the Eternal Rock? Knowing that God hears, and cares, and sees Much more than I do when I’m down on my knees.
“..casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7 (ESV)
Two women, so alike in some ways– Both attractive and energetic, Both young and vivacious.
But
One has prepared a table; the other has prepared her bed, One talks of virtue and honor; the other whispers secrets. One requires commitment; the other promises no strings. To enter either door is to be changed.
A man entered the door of the wise woman. He was simple, uncomplicated, straightforward; A man of few words, but noble heart. He ate at her table, put his boots outside the door– Carried her over the threshold. Time passed, children came. They added on to the house. Put in a garden; got a dog. Others took note. There were gatherings– Holidays, barbecues, reunions. The house was a home. He never looked back.
Years later, the man died. His neighbors and family all spoke Of his honesty, integrity, and wisdom. His wife mourned and was comforted. He was the father of three, The grandfather of seventeen.
Another man entered the door of the foolish woman. He was simple, uncomplicated, straightforward. A man of few words, but a yearning heart. He ate her food and drank her wine; slept in her bed– Wallowed in her perfumed sheets. He laughed at her coarse jokes, Reveled in her catfights with the other girls, And the stares of other men.
He bought her jewelry. She bought him a car. They lived the dream: parties and vacations; Dancing ’til dawn and no responsibilities. They forgot to pay the bills; they wrecked the car. Others took note and shook their heads. Time passed.
She moved in with someone else. He moved into a hotel. There were other women And other hotels. There were neighbors, friends– Cars, jobs, bright lights and Stolen pleasures. But he was never the same.
Years later, the man died. His neighbors and friends Spoke of the loss In passing, over a beer. The woman had almost forgotten him. When someone brought up his name, She said, “Such a simple, stupid man. I wonder what ever happened to him.”
I would have taken the scenic route Stopped to smell the new-mown grass, Or the languid marshy odors Drifting through the open window of my car.
I might have stopped off to see my old friend Whose house I have passed a hundred times On my way from somewhere to somewhere else– Stayed awhile, relived memories or made new ones.
I would have let the others speak Drinking in their words, tasting them, weighing their wisdom And nodding, or not, let them take the spotlight a little longer While I held my own cleverness in check.
I would have prayed with more reflection, and Less impatience. I would have used fewer words, And chosen them with more care. I would have shown More gratitude and less “attitude.” I would have cried more and sighed less.
I would have risked speaking up in those awkward moments: “I didn’t mean that.” “I’m glad to know you.” “I’m so sorry.” “I love you.” “Please know that I love you.” “You have an amazing smile.” “You are important.” “God loves you with an everlasting, unshakable love!”
I would have watched more sunsets and fewer TV shows. I would have written more stories and read fewer magazines. I would have danced like no one was watching. I would have sung like no one was listening. I would have invited others to join me.
If I had known that I have five more years; Or five more months, or five more decades… Would I live differently? Pray differently? Love differently? I hope so.
Smack-dab in the center of Sin and Pride; You could find me in Peril, Intrigue and Rebellion– Guilt surrounded me, pain and despair held me fast. But I was not in Repentance, Mercy, or Grace.
I had to die to “I”– let it go and let the Son redeem the Sin Trade Pride for Prayer, and Hype for Hope.
But I am no longer lost or dead– and no longer a slave to sin or pride. I can now be found in Faith, and Charity; I thrive in Fellowship, I have a Friend in Jesus, A Spirit to guide me, and a vision for Eternity. It is not “I” who lives, but “I AM” who lives in me. Salvation, forgiveness, life, and victory are all mine; Alive in Him, I am found in Christ– sanctified, And never alone.
Romans 8:1-5King James Version (KJV)
8 There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.2 For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.3 For what the law could not do, in that it was weak through the flesh, God sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin, condemned sin in the flesh:4 That the righteousness of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.5 For they that are after the flesh do mind the things of the flesh; but they that are after the Spirit the things of the Spirit.
1 Corinthians 15:57New International Version (NIV)
57 But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
A brief note about Scripture references and quotes: I try to give scripture references and quotes in various translations, though I give most in the New International Version (NIV), the English Standard Version (ESV) or the King James or New King James versions (KJV or NKJV). I don’t intend to cause confusion by doing this. There are several excellent translations/versions available, and for a good comparison, there are several wonderful Bible study websites (two of my favorites are Bible Gateway and Bible Hub ). I simply find that there are some nuances that make for easier reading or use in the blog. Often, one translation will have notes and cross references that are wonderful for further study, but confusing to include as part of the blog quote. I encourage anyone to read the verses in whatever translation they have available, feel most comfortable using, or feel is most trustworthy. I also welcome comments or corrections.
I started down the boulevard,
Freshly paved, smooth and gleaming,
Its lanes clearly marked and a gentle rise
Toward a glorious horizon.
New construction sites caught my eye;
Here was progress– here was the future!
I drove on, excited in my new course,
Dreaming of destiny and fulfillment.
Gradually, the scenery changed.
Construction gave way to abandoned projects:
Half-finished high-rises, silent storefronts,
Driveways leading nowhere, weedy parking lots.
Now the road, so smooth at the beginning,
Twisted and turned without purpose.
Gravel and broken pavement lined with
Abandoned cars and broken glass.
Frightening thoughts intruded–
I had seen no open stores, no gas stations,
No houses, or other cars for miles. I was alone.
There were no crossroads; no places to turn around.
The road that had begun with so much promise
Was now a rutted path going nowhere.
I woke up in a cold sweat– it had been a dream.
More– it had been a warning.
I had “good intentions” for my journey.
But the easy road, the appearance of future success
Had lured me away from the path marked with suffering
And paved with ancient truths.
I had packed no maps, ignored the GPS, and trusted to “instinct”
To lead me, not to a fixed destination, but to “discovery.”
I drifted back to sleep, and dreamed that I was back at the beginning.
Roads branched out all around me.
The gleaming new boulevard no longer held any appeal.
But now I studied the other roads.
There were so many; roads leading to “enlightenment”;
Roads offering “fame” and “immortality”;
Narrow paths promising “mysticism”;
Superhighways advertising “happiness.”
Off to the right, there was a tiny filling station–
The old fashioned kind, with a service man.
He offered to fill my tank, but then he said,
“They all end up in the same place, you know.”
I looked up into his eyes–eyes that held in them
The wisdom of the ages and boundless love.
“Enter in at the narrow gate…”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life…”
“This is the way, walk ye in it…”
He turned and walked through the back door
And I followed him down a sunlit path,
Up a small rise, and into glory.
It’s been nearly 45 years since I first heard this phrase, but it has resonated with me ever since. Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote of it over 200 years ago, speaking of how readers interact with literature, especially when it contains fantastical or supernatural elements. Our high school English teacher and drama coach, Mrs. Barr spoke of it not only in the context of literature but in the context of the theater. In fact, in all art, the artist depends on at least some willing suspension of disbelief on the part of his/her audience.
In visual art, we must believe that a few strategic blobs of color, or carefully shaped pieces of marble or wood have captured something timeless and true about a single moment in time– that movement and emotion and life can be held immortal on a canvas or a statue or a tapestry. We must suspend our disbelief that paint, or wood, marble or stone exists only as itself– in the artist’s capable hands, mere matter transcends its ordinary form to touch our very soul. In music, we can hear, in the well-played notes of an instrument, the sounds of birds, the falling rain, the crashing of thunder, the marching of armies, or the buzzing of bees. Music doesn’t just touch our ears, it can touch our souls. Shakespeare also alluded to this in a comical way: “Is it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies” (Much Ado About Nothing– Act II, Scene 3) We can listen to a symphony without being moved, but in the willing suspension of disbelief, we can be transformed and inspired by notes on a page and breath being blown into wood or brass or fingers or bows being drawn over “sheep’s guts”.
In literature or in the movies, we must suspend our disbelief that mythical creatures, aliens, monsters, and talking animals live among us as a normal occurrence– for the duration of the story…Dragons must be vanquished, Fairy Godmothers must be allowed to help poor Cinderella to the ball, and The Raven must repeat his ominous line, “Nevermore.” Frodo must hide from orcs and Nazgul in order to reach the Fires of Doom and destroy the One Ring. Charlotte must spin her wordy webs and Papa Bear must exclaim, “someone has been sitting in my chair.” As children, we shed our disbelief readily and enter into the story, falling in love (or having nightmares about) imaginary characters. As adults we become cynical, and lose some of our ability to enter into imagination and other-wordly realms.
I was recently reminded of this concept of the willing suspension of disbelief in two different contexts– loss of Faith, and the deception of the internet– including “fact checking” and AI. Very different experiences, but I think they both tie in.
First, in the loss of Faith. I know so many people, family, friends, even strangers, who write passionately about their loss of Faith. Oh, they don’t call it that. They have other terms, other catchphrases– they talk about their “Deconversion” or their “Awakening”. They are too smart, too savvy, too enlightened to give credence to Faith in Jesus, or in any “god” or divine being. After all, they cannot see “Him” or “it”; they cannot prove His existence (they can’t prove His non-existence either, but that’s another story). Believing in God, they claim, is the same as believing in fairy tales.
And yet…Keats once posited, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty– That is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know” (Ode on a Grecian Urn). Earlier in his poem, he also says, “Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d, pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone…” There is an acknowledgement that we do not just exist in a physical plane, but in a world of metaphysical marvels– memory, hope, and yes, even “fairy tales”.
Of course, we know that there is no Cinderella– no “happily ever after” in this world. Life is not a fairy tale story. But our lives ARE stories– we have a beginning and an end. We want to find a purpose, a reason for being who we are, where we are, and even when we are. We search for our “true” identities. We dream dreams and harbor hopes. We battle evil forces– the demanding boss, the annoying neighbors, blizzards and tornadoes, cancer…And we believe very strongly in concepts of justice and injustice, fairness and unfairness, goodness and evil–metaphysical concepts. We long to be understood, accepted, “seen,” and loved (ever after!). And we must suspend our disbelief in the face of evil to search for the good. We must suspend our disbelief in our own worth to make choices that preserve our health and develop our latent talents. Indeed, we must believe and cherish what we do NOT see or have never experienced, or we will be crushed by our (often temporary) realities. When cynicism and disbelief BECOME our belief system, we become the living dead. Oh, we can continue doing “good” things without believing in God; we can espouse a code of “good living”, we can take care of our bodies and emotions within a framework of humanism and self-esteem. But we will not experience the fullness of Truth, or Beauty, or majesty, that lives in Faith.
Loss of Faith represents, what I would call an “unwillingness” to suspend disbelief, or a tendency to cling to only that which can be experienced on a physical plane. But there is another danger– that of an “unwilling” suspension of disbelief–believing things that are deceptive, because they are presented as “truth.” This includes such things as “fake news” on the internet, “fact checkers” who tilt the truth and “throw shade” on inconvenient or uncomfortable truths, and AI-generated stories meant to “create” truth where none exists.
I would like to say that I am immune to such things; that my knowledge and dependence on truth cannot be subjected to manipulation. But that is not always true. I see a touching story on Facebook about a young person who is missing– please spread the word– only to find out that the post is several months out of date. I see a meme that accuses one political big-shot or a celebrity or even a corporation or business of being corrupt, unfair, evil, etc., and I am outraged– until I realize that the original post was generated by a person or group that is completely unknown to me. I don’t know their true experience, or their motivation in spreading this information (or false information). It MAY be true, it MAY be completely false, but it is most likely somewhere in between– not nearly as bad as portrayed, or as every bit as bad as other politicians, celebrities, or companies who aren’t mentioned in the meme or article.
Outrage— especially outrage that is deliberately and manipulatively generated– is the suspension of not just disbelief, but of discernment. We immediately judge. We immediately feel our blood pressure rise, our cheeks flame, and our breathing accelerate. Webecome passionately angry, but we also become instantly indignant and self-righteous. I would never…I cannot tolerate… But what have we done on a smaller scale? Are we SO innocent? Do we have the authority to judge based on a single article or photo?
But it is not just outrage that can be deliberately and manipulatively generated. AI and bad actors on the internet and other media sources can also manipulate our hopes, our disappointments, and our beliefs in what has happened and what is happening around us. Stories appear online that sound authentic, narrated by well-modulated voices (many of which seem familiar), telling us that this event took place and changed someone’s life, or that this celebrity has finally “spilled the dirt” about beloved co-stars who died a couple of decades ago. Others purport to give “wise words” from aging actors or writers or recently dead corporate gurus. We suspend our disbelief, or our suspicions, because we trust the voice or the photoshopped picture. We choose to believe the worst of people we already dislike. We choose to believe only the best of people we like. If a stranger came up to me on the street with a story like this, I would be suspicious. Who are they? Why are they telling me this? Why should I trust them? But we suspend our disbelief if we see it in print with what looks like credible photos and when narrated by what we assume to be a credible voice. If we bother to look at the source, even that seems credible– I may not have heard of this news service, but it has the word “news” in its heading…
We put our Faith in things seen– even if they are false, while we hold truth and beauty to be suspicious, because we have lost the ability to hope and trust in something beyond our own wisdom and personal perceptions.
We need dreamers and artists and writers who see truth and beauty in the universal and metaphysical realities of faith and hope and majesty. And we need people with the discernment to disbelieve what strangers claim to “show” and “tell” us with their clever manipulations.
Both Faith and “the willing suspension of disbelief” depend on the Will. We have to make choices in what we are willing to believe and how far we are willing to search for the truth– both in what we can see, and in what we cannot.
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee; How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Clouds dot the cerulean sky, A gentle breeze whispers, And flowers nod as I walk A country path. Then sings my soul.
Trees bow and rain coils, Gales roar and city streets Shiver as I wait In sheltered awe. Then sings my soul.
A newborn nestles in my arms Making sucking noises In its slumber, As arms and legs Learn to measure open space. Then sings my soul.
Families gather in black Murmuring comfort In somber tones As they learn to Measure the empty space. Then sings my soul.
How Great Thou Art! How awesome in power! How glorious your Creation! How mysterious your ways! How lavish in Life, And triumphant over Death!
My souls sings; Sometimes sweet and low, And sometimes keening. My soul dances; It reels and skips and sways. My soul cries and laughs and trills. But always, it says, “How Great Thou Art!”
Confess that I have not really comprehended what Christmas really means. There are times throughout this year when I have not made “room in the inn;” I have not welcomed Christ in the “least of these.” I have not followed the star, or listened to the message of the angels. I have not come to the manger with gifts. I have been like the people of Bethlehem– asleep and unaware of the miracles taking place under my nose. I have not acknowledged that you are
Here. Not just that you came. Not just that you lived, and died, and rose again. But that you are present with me–Now! Every moment! Forever. Here. Not just beside me, but indwelling…living in me and working through me, flawed and cracked vessel that I am. Living in and working through other ordinary people You send into my life (as You send me into theirs).
Righteous Redeemer, help me to understand better Your Wisdom, Your Power, Your Glory, and Your Holiness. You did not come to rescue us from some failed plan or cosmic mistake. You are altogether perfect in Your plan of Salvation. Even when I cannot understand Your ways, they are higher and better than anything I can imagine. And Christmas, with all its wonder and glory and contradiction was never a surprise to YOU. It wasn’t Plan B. It was timed down to the minute, scripted to the very last detail, and part of the eternal plan of Salvation.
Inspire me again with the wonder of Your Mercy and Grace. Help me to experience the Joy of the Shepherds, the Awe of the Magi, and the Hush of Heaven as You left Your throne to become a little lower than the angels who shouted Your Glory into the darkness.
Send me, as you sent the Shepherds, to make known Your wonders, as you sent the Angels to tell of Your Good News of Great Joy, and as you sent Your Son into the world to make reconciliation. Strengthen me as an instrument of Your Grace, as a Witness of Your Might, and as an Ambassador of Your Love.
Transform my thinking. Build my Trust in You, that I would spend less time fretting about my daily needs and the unforeseen circumstances of my days, and more time praising You for what you have done, and will do, and are doing. Help me to embrace Your
Might, Your Majesty, and Your mystery. That the same voice that spoke galaxies into being and the same right arm that raised up empires was wrapped up in rags and laid in a Manger, meek and tiny. That Your glory was hidden in a cattle stall in a quiet village of a conquered nation. That Your plan to bring us life involved Your own painful death at the hands of people You had raised up to power That all of Eternity could be changed in a single instant, even as the Earth slept.
Accept my adoration, incomplete and uncomprehending as it is. And equip me to Act in ways that bring You Glory and Honor. Advance Your Kingdom, and Thank You for making it possible to be reconciled to You.
Sovereign Savior and Gracious Shepherd, let CHRISTMAS be born in me anew this season. Let me grow in Faith and Obedience. Let me shine like that first star– drawing others to worship You.
Father, I’m too busy today. I have filled my life with too many urgencies And obligations. I can’t take the time to quiet my soul And just meditate on You.
I have a checkup appointment with the doctor this morning. (Thank you for my health and wellness, and Give the doctor insight and wisdom to see What I need to do to stay healthy.)
And then, I have a busy day at work, To make up for the time off… (Thank you, Father, for employment!) (Thank you for time off!) (Thank you for travel mercies.)
Tonight, I have to catch up on all the housework… (Thank you for a home, and clothing, and dishes, and furniture…) (Thank you for family to share it all with!) And I promised our neighbor I’d check on their cat while they are on vacation. (Thank you for good neighbors, and the opportunity to serve them.)
Lord, forgive me… I’m just too busy to pray today. (Father, thank you for a busy life– a life with purpose and activity. Thank you for your Presence throughout the day!)
Father, thank you for the truth– I am NOT too busy to give you praise I am NEVER too busy to turn my thoughts and my heart to YOU, even on this busy day!
I really need to go on that diet. I really should call my Aunt Kay. I need an hour of peace and quiet. And time to sit and pray.
But I’m scrolling through Facebook. I’m following the news. I just need another look; This meme has so many views..
I should greet that new couple at church. I should make them feel at home. But I need a cup of coffee first. And my hair should be re-combed.
My Bible waits by my chair– Unread these past four days. Later, I know it will still be there– Ready to catch my gaze
Tomorrow, or the next day. God will understand. I want to follow His Way, But this wasn’t what I planned.
I got caught up in a magazine I stopped to shoot the breeze– My house is needing to be cleaned Before I get on my knees.
I “had to,” “should have,” “had a mind” To spend time with God, and yet My day’s flown past, and now I find I’ve only time to fret.
“Not yet” was my sad refrain “Not yet” kept me on the go. “Not yet” robbed me once again Of time spent with One who loves me so.
And so my day was filled and rife With wasted time and small regrets. I missed the more abundant life Of trust grown from obedience.
The internet will still be there Tomorrow and the next day; But the trust built up in an hour of prayer Can never be taken away.
Today may be busy with “urgent” needs and countless distractions. But there will only be one “today” to meet with God– in prayer, Bible study, meditation, and worship. What is my priority today? Even if I can’t “find” an entire hour in my busy schedule, have I made a plan and a priority to meet with God? Am I searching for opportunities to serve Him and encourage others, or am I too busy searching for my own entertainment and fulfillment? What are the empty things in my life that I should be telling, “Not yet?”