Instant Pain Relief

Had a conversation at work today with a watch repairman about how he thinks the world ticks, especially regarding pain and illness.  He said in that in his view, God doesn't want anyone to suffer. And then we didn't have time to get much further than that.

Our chat started when I asked about his classes on worship and prayer. He facilitates a satellite course of a much larger program out of northern California.  We both agreed that God is able to do anything, including miracles of instant healing or pain relief.  I asked him about cases where healing doesn't occur and did he think we could assume that God heal every time we pray for this? Or could we pray for healing from mortality, if it came down to it?  The watchmaker said he prefers to focus on what God can do instead of on Him not healing.

Some things I wonder:  If people receive healing prayer for physical pain, what about healing prayer for emotional pain? Say, loneliness? Disappointment? Sadness?  Isn't pain pain, no matter what form?  I'd love to have those prayed out of my life.  Are my prayers too limited for myself or for others?  Or, if God can do anything, doesn't this also apply to the miracles of Him getting people through suffering instead of just out of it?  Are there things God does only through suffering? I think most of us have seen something good come through suffering at times, even if we hate it.  Should Jesus have prayed away His own suffering while on earth even before He went to the cross?  I think if He was tempted in every way I am, He must have suffered in every way I do too.


   

Tilling

Today while I was behind a cash register a senior male customer came and said to me," Don't you wish you'd married rich so you don't have to sit there?"   I answered, "Actually, I'm a volunteer."  And he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

I've been working for a couple months now,  twice a week, at a charity thrift store that sells furniture and other things.  Was pleased to get trained for the first time in my life as a cashier.  Though I'm not so great with math I'm good with money.  Apparently that sufficed.

In a way I have a hard time saying "my job" or "I'm working", as if not getting paid makes this position, and me, less smart or respect-worthy or diligent.  In reality I'm as reliable, hard working and professional as if I was getting paid.  And for this season and some ongoing dynamics of my life I am finding huge rewards and joy in this...job...there, I said it...volunteer though it be.

As one of the first people customers see in the store I get be a receptionist too, answer all sorts of questions and enter into countless mini conversations with a great variety of characters from all over town.  It's like a social smorgasbord where all the personality dishes are delivered straight to my counter.  It's also a wonderful place to serve up my quick wit like a short order cook, feeding incoming masses with speedy bites of humor and lightness for the day.  My brain and my heart are loving it.

To top it all off, I'm getting to know some co-workers, paid and not, some of whom are distinctly not boring. A few are even creative spirits and great partners in subtle absurdity which makes a mutual feast, albeit suitably hushed and straight-faced, out of so many store scenarios.  In short, for now at least, I'm enjoying the sense of community and the experience of being enjoyed and appreciated for my personality and my, yes, work in this particular world of volunteering,

Grad - ually

    Last weekend I took part in the graduation service for our group who survived the 27 week, twelve step program called "Freedom Sessions".  Each of us had 2 minutes to give a statement about three things: 1.Why we joined Freedom Sessions 2. Our major breakthroughs or lessons learned  3. How we plan to give back after all we've received.

   It was hard to muster up what I needed in order to even attend the evening.  As I said to those gathered, it was like I was Jacob, wrestling with the angel of the Lord for 27 weeks on Friday nights and I was still limping.  It was tricky for me to come up with a giving back commitment.  The obvious one for me in the past would have been serving as a facilitator/discussion leader for the next year.  Right now I'm still feeling like the wind has knocked out of me and that's the last thing I could do.  I did say that I'd continue blogging about this process and creating art about it, as well as making an effort to stay in community in some form.

   I wonder what people feel like who've had open heart surgery and if it's like this.  I guess this has been more like an open soul procedure.  There are some times now when I have a firsthand sense of what "normal" and "whole" is.  Miraculous, really.  Still many others, though, like this afternoon, when I'm off kilter, desperately lonely and wanting to escape it all.  I guess one point of progress for me is seeing more clearly exactly what triggers this.  Today it was discovering people going to a concert within their apparently blissful network of friendships and me being, still, completely outside this world that, for me, is like the ultimate candy store.  Our Freedom Session workbooks would ask something like:  Do I believe God cares about this?  How would someone act in this situation who believed God cared about them? I now have more than my default response to choose from.

Gold from Straw

This morning I grabbed a quick bite of Scripture as I rushed out the door.  Judges 6:13 - 17 on the fly and not expecting much, I admit.  There's Gideon saying to God, "If You're for us, then why do we have so much trouble? Where are Your miracles we grew up hearing about? Looks to me like You've abandoned us."

Hmmmm... Honest.  Direct.  And, umm.. relate-able at times.  God doesn't even bother to respond to any of Gideon's speech for some reason.  Just gets straight to the assignment. "Go with the strength (or resources) you have and save Israel from the Midianites.  I'm sending you out."

Gideon asks what he's supposed to save Israel with since he's weak and insignificant.  God says,"I'll be with you. " And He tells Gideon he will destroy the Midianites, who were powerful and myriad, as if they are really just like one of him.

I often wish God would explain Himself to me.  He usually doesn't.  But He gives me assignments for the day.  And helps me in spite of huge odds.  Today my assignment was finishing a giant painting for church.  A peaceful rowboat pointed out toward sea.  I was more aware than ever of my lack of art training and struggles with the basics of perspective. It felt like God was asking me to spin gold out of straw.  I'm literally painting on my knees, asking God for what to do next. And somehow the picture became a living, breathing thing.

Pity

This morning I've caught myself in blatant self-pity. Why do I have to keep going through desolate places where again it's me pleading with God to let me know He's with me?  Why do I have to regularly return to being alone with my inspirations, gifts and interests?  Why do I have deal with almost daily temptations to despair over the inevitability of the few kindred spirits leaving my sphere?

The logic side of me stands back, at least in this moment, and says,"What do you expect in life training? Do athletes sit around on comfy sofas all day?"

I would like to believe that there is good plan for my life in all this rigor I'm being paced through.  I have such a hard time being alone, both literally and soulishly, but there has to be a way to triumph in it.  I wonder if this is the only way I would really seek God with my whole being?  If so, I wonder how I'll survive.  I would so much like to know that all this is producing something worthwhile.  Something beautiful.  Something hopeful and of true strength.

Wait

When I was in Bible School, the word "wait" came up so often in lectures that it became our year's theme. At the end of school, several of us formed the word on the lawn and were "aerial" photographed from a tower. A long lost picture, unfortunately.  Hence, my alphabet noodle art.

I tend to wait impatiently or dismally. Especially when it's indefinite. I'm often tempted to mope about what is unresolved. I squander the moment I'm in. Sometimes I leap ahead and take charge where I shouldn't and have to make apologies. It's too easy for me to take initiative in general but there are times when it's just plain wrong. Mostly, actually, just too hasty.

Been thinking about initiative taker Achan in Joshua 7.  He saw what he wanted, was able to take it and did. But the timing was wrong. He'd been warned.  Given boundaries that he ignored. He and his whole family died for it.  Just one chapter and one city later, God gives the Israelites permission, carte blanche, if you will, to take whatever plunder they want.  Things go better with sticking to God's timing.  Sometimes, though not always, the waiting is much shorter or less costly than we expect.

Mine the Day

I feel like I've been in the twilight zone the past while.  Several long days with my mother in hospital and evenings and nights alone in my parents' big house that creaks as the temperature changes.  My dad returns from an overseas trip at the end of this week. Meanwhile, I'm thankful for siblings and others who support me, the local supporter, by email, phone and prayer.  This evening I hope to return to the house with my mother gingerly in tow.  It's just the beginning of this health "adventure"for her.

Been thinking of "mining the day" for several weeks now.  Different from seizing it I think.  I'm looking for "allusions" for one thing.  Physical references to less tangible truths and preferably uplifting ones.  I'm also hunting for beauty.   And, of course and always, humor.

I'm surveying my findings so far. Driving to the hospital yesterday I passed a small community garden with a big sign saying "The Hug Farm". Made me smile.  A song on the radio played a tune with something about "you're not wandering alone".  Reminded me of a desolate time living alone in a city when the very moment I thought "no one knows I'm here" a person I'd met in another country suddenly drove by and said hello.  As for beauty, I defy seasonal cliche' and say I'm nearly floored by the burning intensity of the fall oranges mixed with deep purple,  or burgundy and green sharing two sides of leaves like taffeta. These are colors that paint can't mix. Colors plugged into a power source.

As for humor, yes, finding some of that too.  A bumper sticker yesterday said "Save a life, spay or neuter." Ok...so saving which life? The life or litter you're preventing? Even mildly illogical statements amuse me. Also entertained by the 3.5 stars of 5 rating hospital which is certainly that because of the meal delivery.  Two days ago, my mom's "lunch" came at 3 pm, which was after my several requests. But dinner/supper was early.  4:30 pm, actually. The exact same meal.  Almost brilliantly terrible service. I'm glad my mother has a good sense of humor.  We'll all need it in days and months to come.

This will be a quickly written one.  Interesting to observe my parents and their two completely different views on friendships.  It's come to light especially this week.  My normally very energetic mother (she's actually been called "effervescent") has been in the hospital for 8 days.  First it looked like a bad flu, which she never gets, then suspected pneumonia, and the latest, a spot on her lung with further tests.  All this to say, everyone in her family is either out of the country or several hours away by car.  My dad is actually on a ship in the Middle East.

My Mother is being steadily inundated and supported with visits by friends and people from church. She has always been a good friend to many, showing up faithfully, conversing warmly and putting down roots wherever she lives.  Now it's all coming back to her and then some.  My dad, on the other hand, insists from afar that having family nearby is always the best and is dismissive about the value of friends.  This is a man who travels the world, has a vast data base of "contacts", and whose own parents both had funerals with no more than 5 people in attendance.  I was at one of those. Shocking, really.

For me, friends are my family close by.  Maybe this is a wake up call for me to value them even more and tell them so.  Disturbing as my Mother's situation is, it's gratifying to watch her enjoy the fruits of her cultivated relationships.

Jewel Bright and Allusion

This morning I woke up early enough to go walking in the fog, my favorite kind of weather.  It almost physically draws me out of the house like a huge magnet.  I love how vastly mysterious and diffused everything is.  There's a country-ish dead end street nearby that I go to which ends with an unassuming church wrapped by a steeply sloped parking lot. A soccer field beyond that, sitting in a bowl of grassy hills, tree topped, and who knows what further on.  I walk loops and eights around the parking lot.  I mull over life, pray, ponder rhymes or melodies.  Mull some more.  It's a good place to cry too, which I usually don't around people.

On my last loop this morning I looked over at the soccer field disappearing in the mist like a portal to the hereafter. If Peter Pan faith was all it took, I'd be through it in a moment.  But of course it's just an illusion, or perhaps, more hopefully, an allusion.

The mistyness is leaving by the time I reach home again.  A bit later this morning I'm outside out again.  Now the sun is in full, fall splendor and behold, it's my favorite kind of...grass!  Be-sprinkled with dew drops and back lit to diamond glory.  Always this reminds me of a C.S. Lewis book describing arrival in Paradise as where "the grass was jewel-bright".  I can't even recall which book.  The Great Divorce maybe. This sparkling grass, another gift of allusion.    

Sandals

I hope I'm not wearing anyone out with stuff about my Freedom Session homework.  I hate to be tiresome, but it's what's on my mind these months.  Sigh...feeling that lack of a "best friend" or perpetually available and interested listening ears.  I guess the people who would be that if it were possible are the minds I'm writing to.  Honestly, if I didn't have such a perpetually lonely trail through a lot of my soul, I would never have started any of this blogging or much other creative stuff.

Anyway.  This week our assignment is a simple Bible reading exercise to train us Freedom Session folk in the art of listening to God.  For 6 days we have these categories to fill out:

Today I read : (Bible passage)

Most significant reference to me:

Main idea:

How it impressed me and/or applies to my life:

When we did a practice version in class, we were encouraged to directly ask God what He wanted to tell us personally through the passage.  Then we had to spend time listening to what He had to say. Not just read and run.  Actually waiting quietly with the real expectation that He would say something to our spirit.  

For my first homework in this assignment I read the last few verses of Joshua 5 where brave but unaware Joshua meets the angelic commander of God's armies just before Israel goes out to meet the enemy.  Once Joshua discovers who the angel is, he asks for instructions.  Verse 15, which I marked as my most significant reference, gives the answer, "Remove your sandals from your feet, for the place where you are standing is holy."  

I wrote down that God is telling me that "tomorrow" is not my problem.  My only job is to focus on and worship God in this very moment.  I've actually gotten more "aggressive", for lack of a better word, about clinging onto God's invisible feet.  Even if He has to drag me down the path I don't let go until He lets me know again, even with the tiniest peace, that He is with me. Probably sounds more like desperation than worship. But for me it's progress in my frequent sense of desolation. 

Walls and Walking

I just skimmed the online version of Relevant magazine and found an article by Tim Keller on 5 ways to deal with suffering.  From my short short-term memory, here are a couple things:

Don't passively let suffering chip away at you or make you hardened and bitter.  Suffering is about refining character.  Producing gold. (Yes, I've heard that a lot, but I needed it again and still) I'm trying to remember that gold is desirable, valuable, beautiful and eternal.  It's not all about the kiln and fire that feels like it will destroy us.  Too easy to focus only on that part.  Mostly, though, I was struck by Tim's comment that we have to walk through suffering.  Not just sit by or lie down and die.  Not race ahead to get it over with. It's a matter of daily making progress in a steady way. It's an actual going somewhere, even if the same long trial feels like being timelessly glued to pain.

For some reason this connects for me with my reading in Joshua 6 this morning.  The people of Jericho are paralyzed by fear and fortifying themselves behind walls that will betray and destroy them.  The Israelites, on the other hand, are simply walking around these walls.  The have visual proof in the Ark of the Covenant that God is walking with them.  For the first 6 days of 7 there is nothing else for them to do.  It's a steady keeping on which, at that point in the story, looks utterly pointless and unproductive. It's something I want to think more about.  Those 6 days of walking around the insurmountable with God at their side.

Blue Thread

There's a built-in loneliness in my life.  A thin blue thread that is stitched through every one of my days.  I live with much kindness I dare not take for granted. I am blessed with it. But it is a kindness that does not and can never understand or love what I love.  We are oil and water.  Two paths along the river with few bridges between them.  Two sets of dreams that will never meet.

It has been a major reason for me to go through these months of Freedom Sessions.  About 5 weeks remain and I wonder if there's been any progress in my soul.  I look at our homework questions this week:

1. What do I believe about Jesus Christ on this issue? Do I believe He cares about this?
2.  Do I believe God can help me deal with this in a better way?
3.  How would a person who does believe God cares about this pain or issue respond?

I honestly get stuck at the question of whether God cares. Or rather what difference it makes tangibly in my life.  Sure, I can believe He cares, but if my life does not change, does it really matter or mean anything? I don't want to be irreverent.  I also cannot pretend.  Today I journaled and looked back at another blue thread season in my life.  We prayed 8 long years for a second child.  It was as if we lived in mourning for someone who had never arrived.  We offered faith that didn't understand anything.  It was all we had. From today I see the brighter thread that has since been tied to and stitched from the first one. She's nearly 10 now.

But how can this ongoing thing be redeemed? If I truly believed God cared, wouldn't I calmly trust that all this had a good purpose and outcome?  That something beneficial and even beautiful could come in the midst of this and eventually out of it.  Wouldn't I be looking harder and more eagerly for the daily evidences of Divine Love that knows me and takes care of my soul's needs in unexpected ways? I do see them.  Gifts that feed me along the path. Gifts I cannot lean on, but they sustain me.  I want to believe today when I cannot understand.  I long for the brighter thread I may see only in the next world.

  

Resurrected

      Ok, not quite back from the dead, but I'm feeling more "myself"since the last entry. A pretty low point in a low season.  Driving up to an object or event looks much different from leaving it again. A good deal of me never wants to look back.  Done and done. But, the tiny voice in my head says give it a quick review.  Something useful may emerge.

     Frankly I feel embarrassed at how depressive I actually was, and probably still can tend toward being at times.  Is all my writing about hard stuff? Moping? I am challenged by other people who are perpetually near drowning under their own lives.  They gravitate toward me.  I find it somewhat draining long term and don't want to be like that for others. This is less consideration and more my excessive fear of seeming weak or needy.

      A few discoveries along the recent way to healing physically and otherwise.  Not rocket science, but the whole trouble started with a very hard season of life, not surprisingly for me around music. Someone else took over the piano completely several years ago for some months where I normally played with a band. Back then my music was me.  I felt annihilated.  No separate sense of self.  No long term perspective on the situation. Almost immediately I needed two root canals.  Things went steadily down hill from then on.  Rejection, stuck literally in my jaw.  Eventually broad scale deterioration on a few levels. Me rejecting myself.

     A holistic practitioner excavated more foundations of self-rejection that I had to renounce. Literally had to, to survive.  Recently, there are more glimmers of my objective identity.  My unconditional worth. This gets tested all the time.  Some people's opinion matters far more to me than most.  Some really see, know and even like me.  When they are preoccupied or even move out of town I can't be leaning on any of it.

Tooth Fairy

I wish.  The once over with a magic tooth wand would be lovely.  Reality, though, has me scheduled for fairly major dental surgery in a week and a half which even includes bone repair on my upper jaw. Sigh.  Trying to focus on the positives and be grateful.

My thankful list in all this:  My suspicions about old root canal trouble never went away despite lack of pain.  An acupuncturist two weeks ago immediately referred me to a dental specialist when I mentioned said suspicions.  I got in to see the specialist. His detailed scan laid it all out.  It's the 11th hour and counting for severity, but not the 12th.  If I'd waited even a couple more months I don't know what I would have turned into.  A pumpkin? Or something more macabre.  In truth I can't explain how I've had such good physical energy and lack of obvious sickness for the last 5 years, even if lesser symptoms kept suspicions on life support.  Another mercy.

In a way it's worse now to know what's going on while I wait for surgery.  The curtain is pulled back. My body says,"Finally, you get it!" and is relaxing its iron grip on survival mechanisms.  Not sure where that extra energy is going now.  I feel the lack of strength.  I realize more than ever that my mental and emotional efforts to be "normal" every day for years have not been.  It's an unpleasant reminder of early years with chronic unwellness.

Not even sure how to close this post.  Feels like even "talking" is an effort right now.

"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."  Philippians 4:13

"He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." Colossians 1:16,17

Pathway To

     Today we visited friends staying in the city, right on the water front.  So summery and sublime to walk with them along the inlet bounded trail interwoven with bikers and walkers moving peacefully down the path under the gift of sunshine.  And then a lady fell flat on her face in front of us.

     After a shocked stare several of us moved toward her.  We each offered and did what came to mind. Moments later she sat on the sloped grassy side, paper towel pressed to bleeding eyebrow.  A jogger calmly called 911.  I sat next to the fallen lady, hand steady on her shaking back. Otherwise she seemed surreally calm.  It was like suddenly being in a movie about a lady who fell on a path. We fell into our roles as if we'd rehearsed them.  Time moved barely but softly.

    The paramedics were on their way.  They arrived.  Three clean shaven, strong men in efficient navy blue who seamlessly took over. They assessed what paramedics assess and we didn't think to.  The 911 phoning jogger turned out to be a stewardess. She put in her earphones and continued her run.  Our friends and we mumbled a few more words to each other about the incident, then walked on into new topics and out of the mini movie.  It was like another story decoupaged or cut and pasted onto the regular one of visiting friends staying in the city, right on the water front.

Winds of change

     Today as I write this entry a good friend is driving her earthly belongings from one home to another, hours and ferries away from here.  It sounds like a dream destination for her family.  The past few years we've grown an honest friendship through her several challenging local job and living moves.  I'm relieved for their answers to prayer and feeling quietly bereft.

     Last evening we hosted a backyard gathering for church musicians which I'm a part of and said the almost last goodbyes to two of them going far away, likely for good.  Another one inadvertently mentioned the desire for a big change too.  This being a rare kindred spirit whose departure I would dread.

     I truly hate goodbyes and impending departures.  I'm feeling generally short of time with people who are stimulating two-way conversationalists, who really like me for myself (not just as a listening post) and who have a passion for the same things I do.  Now the already arid land of true friendship is looking like the beginnings of death valley.

    I feel the familiar fingers of depression closing around my throat and I have push them away forcefully.  I ask God to show me His good plans for me.  To widen and deepen my circle of fellowship. To affirm my life purpose and confirm divine dreams that are nothing more than a dry seed in the ground.  I want to choose faith and hope when my current life seems to move away again and again from so much that I long for.  All I can think of is to write out my heart.  To "talk" to someone, even if they don't respond or receive this today. To sit at the piano and chisel away at my soul songs.  Pour my spirit into melodies and rhythm.

   This is not the path I would choose.  Not the story I would write for myself.  The way of thorns.  The princess locked in a castle.  I sit here with open hands, palms facing upward.  This much I know I have to do.

Recycled Medium

I've been thinking about what to do with long term personal challenges that have no foreseeable end in sight.  It's too easy to get obsessed with disappointment or any other form a particular pain can take.  It's also such a draining way to live. The church lady part of me is tired of pat answers.  Those familiar verses about suffering aren't comforting lately.  I don't want to be irreverent about Scripture but it's the way I feel.

Been considering again how a friend once said they loved how I made the most of everything. A treasured affirmation.  Today I'm wondering how I can make the most of hurt instead of passively letting it chip away at my soul.  Can I pick up the pain like a brush, dip it into some paint and make a picture with it?  Can I deliberately and even aggressively bring the pain to the piano and use it to write songs? Is this a way I can receive God's comfort and even meet Him in an especially personal way?

Somewhat along these lines, I encourage you, even if you're not artsy,  to look up some artists featured at RiceGallery.org.  Especially the ones from poorer countries.  It's inspiring to read about those creators who grew up with very little and yet made the most of it. Now they're making art with the simplest of materials, even discardable ones.  Their work has an appeal that is almost tangible.  

Dissociation

Here's a term I've heard a lot in my group since I've started attending Freedom Sessions, a nearly 30 week 12 step program.  Dissociation:  The disconnection or separation of something from something else or the state of being disconnected.  In psychiatry:  The separation of a group of mental processes or ideas from the rest of personality.  Extreme cases are amnesia, some forms of hysteria, or multiple personality disorders.  In situations of severe trauma, being able to dissociate or separate yourself temporarily is actually a gift.  A necessary tool for survival.  The disorder part is staying this way long after the crisis is over, when separating becomes the new normal.

What's interesting to me are the milder, subtler and more socially acceptable forms of dissociation. Really, any activity, thought or emotion can be misused to avoid facing part or all of whatever is uncomfortable or worse.

I'm humbled and awed by those I've met who have survived horrific things and are now bravely reconnecting with reality to move on in life.  They make it easier to deal with my own, less dramatic stuff.  I'm more willing to look at and admit how I've dissociated for decades.  I see that I've taken exercise and generally moving fast beyond fitness to removing myself from experiencing, thinking or feeling what isn't easy.  When I'm not speeding around physically, I've given excessive mental energy and space to reading,  to possible futures and to theoretical problem solving instead of being fully in the present.  I've also elevated my verbal wit to such a heady form of entertainment that I can avoid having to trust being loved, enjoyed and valued apart from being amusing.  And this is just the beginning.  For today, though, it's all the honesty I can serve up.  Thanks for "listening", whoever is reading this out there.

Celestial

Had an interesting, perspective stretching conversation with a friend about the zodiac and "signs" people say they born under.  Not something I grew up with at all.  Horoscopes were considered like glorified cookie  fortunes.  Irrelevant but also dangerous, if logic can take anyone there.  It seems like the stars, constellations and celestial calendars have been completely dismissed or uncomfortably ignored by conservative circles I've circulated in...or even orbited, while we're at it.  If stars could be misused, then there was no use at all for them apparently.

More and more I'm seeing created things as what I'll call neutral.  They have do certain properties and certain potential.  What we do with or think about (application and interpretation) these neutral things is a separate, often very entangled matter.  A knife is not bad or good.  It is simply an object. There are bad applications, like stabbing someone, or good ones, like skilled surgery or cutting into a juicy steak. (My apologies to non carnivores.)

Back to the stars.  If God created constellations and perhaps...I tread cautiously...a celestial calendar...then what might there be about them that is worth exploring, understanding and even valuing. I'm not talking about worshiping or trusting the stars. I am wondering what I might be missing through my all or nothing background that the star Creator is telling me about Himself and how He works.  

Nirvana

I've been thinking about the concept of "godliness with contentment being great gain" and particularly about contentment.  The lack of this in my inner life has been one of several reasons for me joining Freedom Sessions this year.  Not even sure yet how much is discontentment and what is just being human in a world that isn't Paradise.  I do think that in this life God allows and orchestrates particular things to be missing or difficult so we can't help but need Him.  Filling and fixing the voids in our souls will not ever fully happen by human means.  Seems like a cruel trick at times, even if my theology knows it isn't so.

At a conference several months ago a Christian speaker told of an interview with a high ranking Tibetian monk who hesitantly admitted a conflict between Buddhist "annihilation of desire" and the fact that human desires are there nonetheless.  There is always something we long for.  I wish it weren't the case.  My logical mind, which is only part of me, can tell me this life is short.  That I need to focus on eternity and heaven and be like a runner intent on finishing my spiritual race. The rest of me struggles to find this comforting.

Nirvana actually sounds good to me.  No desires for anything seems far easier than pressing on with the realities of my soul.  I want to take a vacation from my doctrine saturated, perennially sensible churchy self and ask Jesus like I've just met Him how He ran this race.  I want to ask Him about contentment. Did He find this hard? What was contentment for Him? And what about the joy set before Him? What exactly did that mean for Him on this earth?