It Was Ugly

I’m sitting at Gate B-42 waiting, as usual, for a United flight that’s been delayed four times since its scheduled time of departure over two hours ago. I’m among a crowd that is slowly morphing into a mob.

The businessman seated one “Friendly-Skies”-blue vinyl seat over, gets up and for the third time approaches the Customer Service rep at the gate counter. And with three well enunciated words he un-corks vicariously venting for all 150 of us. Less than 10 seconds into his diatribe he crossed the line as our warrior-poet-representative and became a caricature/cartoon of a enraged foul mouthed borderline-abusive man venting all the anger/wounds/disappointment he has experienced over the entire 42 years of his miserable life.

It was ugly.

Satisfied and no doubt exhausted from the adrenaline rush, he returns to his chair and glazed over, though still muttering obscenities, he slouches back.

Two minutes later, having caught his breath, he makes a call on his Blackberry. I easily overhear him talking to his young daughter tenderly over the phone. He’s calm, loving, engaged and thrilled to hear about her day as he expresses his love for her.

It was sweet.

I’ve seen this behavior before…in others.

Then I slouched down into my chair and realize that there’s a voice, a clear, kind voice saying, “Did YOU see that… did you see THAT?”

There are times when events unfold before you that, upon reflection, seem orchestrated by our sovereign God specifically for you. For a reason… as an invitation.

Ahhh yeah… I’ve seen that in myself (less dramatic and public of course!)

It was like there were two different people in one body. Truth is it may have been two different people in one body. Most of us have buttons that, if pushed, set off some response (rage, withdrawal, control etc.) that signals a deeper issue of brokenness, woundedness… a young unfathered heart/place and a foolish/sinful strategy of living. That “signal” isn’t something to repress/deny or shy away from. It’s actually the opportunity to experience the deep and true healing/forgiveness/deliverance/grace our good God offers.

I spent my flight wondering about my need of God and his promises to me.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters,
He restores my soul. – Psalm 23;1-3

He heals the broken hearted
And binds up their wounds. – Psalm 147:3

Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed;
Save me and I will be saved,
For you are the one I praise. – Jeremiah17:14

7 Iron Bliss

Okay… who’s been praying for my golf swing?

Thank you!

When our close friend’s son asked our daughter, Meagan, to marry him we were elated. As the Wedding Week was being planned several rounds of Golf were on the docket. I’d never had any interest in shagging a ball around for 4-6 hours; however, realizing this was an opportunity to spend time with them zipping around in a golf cart while engaged in a competitive sport that involved skill, grace, jawboning and a beer afterward I decided to take it up. So, the humiliating process of learning to “play” began. It’s been a year and a half and I stink at golf… but so does my best buddy who also happens to be my son-in-law’s father and the fourth in our regular foursome and frequent “Best Ball” partner. Misery loves company!

* * * * * *

While on vacation this summer a couple of pros watching me on the driving range had a choice… shoot me and save their course from further damage or intervene. Mercifully they took me under their wing and, with the patience of Job and a smirk, gave me the guidance/help/salvation/lessons I needed.

* * * * * * *

For my lunch break today I went to the local driving range. (Note… what a deal! A bucket of balls, a corn dog, bag of chips and medium soda for $7… I’m thinking “Date Night”)

I pull out my 7 iron and start whacking balls. Whoa! Bam! Biff! Sock! Kapow!  Bar the gates Katie!

I was Captain Junuh, Bobby Jones, and Walter Hagen… I’d found my swing! I have never hit the ball as good… consistently, high and far!

Something’s up?!

I'd gone to the driving range in a panicked attempt to break away from an oppressive spiritual sludge that covered me. It felt like a thick swarm of gunky mosquitoes the size of crows swarming around me that no amount of swatting and screaming could alleviate. I couldn’t out run them distancing myself from them hoping to buy a little time of peace before having to sprint again. Do you know what I’m describing?

* * * * * * *

It had been a beautiful Colorado Fall morning with an apple crisp air and pumpkin hued mountains in the sun’s rising light. As usual I had given time to prayers of worship, consecration, and applying the full and triumphant work of Christ over my heart/soul/mind/body/spirit for the day. It seemed that all my brokenness, desire, deep wounds, yearnings for God, profound and compulsive sins were properly stowed in the caring hands of my Father God when I walked into the Outpost (our office building) and got bushwhacked by a bucket of iced Gatorade brewed in hell.

Suddenly I’m… irritated. Rankled by an email, fuming over a colleague’s presumption, soured by an odd look what’s-her-name gave me… actually I’m enraged by the mere presence of other humans.

The Outpost is suddenly dank and dark and with pairs of creepy little green eyes peering around every corner sneering at me. It was obviously spiritual warfare given that murderous thoughts are not common for me. I had faced this before on occasion… this feeling of being eaten alive by some hideous predator… probably the way it would feel to be devoured by a Lion (which according to all the nature shows I’ve watched doesn’t let its prey die prior to its blood devouring)

Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. - 1 Peter 5:8

I wondered what people without a warfare category do with such overwhelming experiences/feelings?

My morning was spent battling in prayer against this foulness to seemingly no avail. The prayers felt impotent leaving me with a foul mocking echo, “You can’t handle this… your life sucks. You suck! This is your miserable fate!!”

I clung to the truth of God and the promises of victory his word gives knowing that there are extended battles we must fight without losing heart.

They are harder than we expect. Hand to hand combat where time stands still and only the smoke, noise and fury seems eternal.

I recalled the account of Daniel praying for understanding of a vision he had had. At the moment of Daniel’s prayer God immediately answered it by sending a mighty and glorious angel to Daniel (many interpreters view this angel as the pre-incarnate Christ himself!). However, it took twenty-one days of warring with the demonic prince of the Persian kingdom before the angel could even get to Daniel with the answer to his prayer. In fact, the angel needed the help of the archangel Michael to battle this demonic being (Daniel Chapter 10).

There are battles over and for us that remain unseen, and if seen, would explain so much of the long suffering and enmity we endure.

I believed God would give me victory at some point, until then the sulfuric weighted film and crows seemed the dread champion.

Noon-ish the thought that came to mind was, “Run!”, “Get outta here!”, “Get some air, and do something… anything distracting!” My clubs were in the back of the Suburban so I went to the range.

After a brief argument with the vendor over who the hottest quarterback in the NFL was, and gripping over the fact that he was out of mustard for my corn dog I went to my bay and dumped out the balls and paused before striking the first.

The driving range was quiet and almost vacant; there was an elderly woman and a young jock sharing the range with me. A cold damp blustery breeze was blowing leaves around, distracting me until a huge flock of Canadian Geese glided in for a soft landing on the range (they were directly in front of me at about 150 yards… which is the safest place they could be.).  The stillness and beauty of the moment caught my heart’s attention and I mutter the simplest prayer of the day, “Dear God I need you”.

I hit the first ball… and the Geese scatter. Straight. High looping and long. Whoa! I hit another… “God?”. And another… God came! I began to sense the beauty, strength and grace of his presence. For an hour I was in his presence with my 7 Iron. In his presence there is: victory, joy, peace, and LIFE. In long pauses between swings he spoke of his love of me and my strength in this battle… I felt his smile. The gunk was gone. I was with the Father… golfing!

Amazing!

He remains the ever-present and always surprising God!

- Craig McConnell

Distraction

“Hutchison's Law: Any occurrence requiring undivided attention will be accompanied by a compelling distraction.” – Robert Bloch

 

This is now the fourth afternoon I’ve sat down to scribble out a bit of all that’s unfolding before me to no avail.

There’s a gumbo of fresh thoughts simmering around in my heart and head that I’d love to put out there on paper… (such as): 

… there is a joy rooted in objective truth that desperate circumstances cannot alter.

… what we actually mean when we say that “Marriage” is hard.

… my love of naps.

… the grief and longings stirred up looking through an old school annual.

… an addiction update.

… the breeding ground angry partisan talk shows are for anxiety, fear and hatred.

… General George Patton’s biography.

… how the six “Woes” of Luke 11 effect me.

… when a glass of wine or a well stirred Manhattan is so sweet.

… a friend’s challenge to ponder my being “Chosen”.

… my first impressions of alternative cancer treatments/cures.

.… reflections on my conversion to a warfare world-view.

… how easy I find it to hear God when He’s saying what I want. 

… bowling leagues.

 

I’m still sitting in front of the computer.

Words on each of these musings and more are present… but at the moment I seem unable to put two intelligent sentences together. (Go ahead and count them).

Distraction is familiar territory for me.

One moment I’m bottomed-out in my chair, placid, glazed over in stage 3 of “writers block” and then I find myself in the middle of some project: cleaning out the garage; sharpening every pencil in the house; organizing my library by perfectly aligning every book on its shelf topically in alphabetical order (by author of course); re-folding the family tent or creating a new itunes playlist.

Aargh!!!

The desire to write persists, so I strap myself back into the chair and lean back to process my thoughts and get God’s interpretation of what’s going on. 

Okay, while in silence and stillness there’s a woodpecker rhythmically destroying the wood facia on the north side of our home. I’ve gone out twice to scare him away but, once again he’s returned. This red headed terror pounds on the house giving me, not him, a headache.

Wanting to fight through my dissipation I begin to pray… Father, Father, Father, I come to you now, in this moment longing for you, loving you, worshiping you. I fully consecrate/surrender myself to you… (and then it happens)

Do Red Tail Hawks really have red tails?

At a movie theater which arm rest is yours?

Are eyebrows considered facial hair?

Do you change the heater filter every 30 days or 60 days? It probably depends upon the season. I probably need to replace it every month in winter, every two months in fall and spring, and none in summer…so how many would that be per year? I wonder if Home Depot gives you a case discount?

Distraction.

I snap out of it the way you jerk yourself awake in the early stages of sleep and continue, Lord come  give me focus, strength, diligence. Counsel and father me…

When is my breakfast appointment tomorrow? I better not wear my good shirt I may stain it.

Do you know what I’m describing?

I fear I am much and often distracted.

Even now, this very moment, as I finish this scrawling I’m so aware of the battle required to do such simple things, the most important things. 

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy [and distract]; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. – John 10:10

A battle we must and can win. Join me in fighting it!

– Craig McConnell

Wrong Room?

Last night must have been a blue moon for this morning I went onto Facebook to peruse the status of my friends.

A young friend posted:

Thomas wishes that when he ran into a room and started dancing that other people would get up and dance. and not just sit and stare. ya.

One of Thomas’s friends commented quickly:

maybe you're running into the wrong rooms

I didn’t read another line.

I’m pausing still... God why does this grab me?

Maybe we’re running into the wrong rooms/churches/small groups/relationships...

Don’t stop dancing!

– Craig McConnell