Confronting the Darkness of Uncertainty

maxresdefaultWhat goes through your mind when a thunderstorm suddenly rages outside, and in an instant, you are left in darkness as all the lights go out?  No candles, no flashlights, just the darkness.

George Iles, a 19th century author of articles concerning various scientific topics wrote, “Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark.” Darkness is one of our earliest fears isn’t it?  It may be close to a universal fear.  We desire to see all that is before us and when we are unable to do so, our imagination begins to work overtime.  We see things that aren’t really there, we hear things that cause the hairs on the back of our necks to stand up, or we imagine all sorts of danger looming just over there in the shadows.

I am told that as a very young child I slept with a nightlight on in my bedroom.  We lived in a large, old multi-storied house that creaked and groaned. Having a very active imagination, I conjured up all sorts of creatures lurking in and around our house who made those noises to prepare me for certain doom as their hands reached out for me in the darkness.

At some point I decided the ghosts and goblins and assorted sprites who were trying to scare me no longer would bother me.  I figured if they had wanted to take me to some nether land of the spirit underworld, I would have already been their captive.  That I had survived that fate gave me hope the darkness and whatever it held would not, could not harm me.  A sense of grace-filled survival became the best antidote to the darkness, my fear or my negative thinking.

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Why I Want To Blog

 

eq54w9myfn6xfd28p92gMost every day I hear from former church members (remember if you will that I was a pastor in my last life) who still seek my advice, not as their pastor, but as someone they can turn to who they trust.  That trust is important to me.  The overriding reason I would like to blog is to offer a safe place for folks to ask and answer questions and to read the questions and answers of others.  I realize that some folks would prefer anonymity.  That will be an issue of importance to me as I plan the blog’s functionality.  I would imagine that in the beginning, till folks figure out the mechanics of the blog and experience the exchange of questions and answers, I will blog on general topics I know from past experience are concerns most folks encounter.  I would hope to provide resources and links to other sites I know that offer specific assistance for issues outside of my comfort zone or expertise.  So, my blog would also serve as a clearinghouse of sorts.  In short, I want to blog to maintain the relationships I have built over the years and hopefully, as word gets out, to attract new folks to a safe place where people’s questions will be handled with care and compassion.

Also since I was a teacher, coach, and administrator in several schools in yet another life, the same things hold true for former students as they do with former church members.  Former students write, email and call and I would hope they too might take advantage of a blogsite to connect with me and other students.

 

Calling To You

 

Untitled35-e1393064216549I feel energy vibrations.  I can walk into a house and know within five minutes if it is a safe house or a house that is quietly whispering “get out.”  And if I hear “get out,” I linger.  I have experienced that the voices aren’t there to overwhelm or harm me, the energy is not there as good or bad, but it is there to act like a cattle prod to shock me into confronting a place I would rather avoid.

I also feel the energy of places, the subtle vortexes that throw me off balance.  Walking in the woods or on a mountain trail, my feet fail me and I stagger to retain my balance.  Then I sit and meditate at that spot.  The energy possesses me and clarity opens up my imagination.  From the top of my head to the soles of my feet, I vibrate in rhythm to the heartbeat of heaven.

Words don’t work as teachers.  Words are so considered and so measured that any real meaning or impact those words might have has been sanitized out even before they leave the lips.  Today we call that politically correct speech.  In my grandfather’s day, words followed the rule, “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”  Words have failed us.

But the subtle energy that doesn’t ask us for permission to speak but nevertheless floods us with invitations and opportunities to grapple with the unknown, that teacher doesn’t give a damn about being correct, just a reflection of stark reality.

I have grown comfortable with wordless communication, with the sharing of energy.  Right now, go outside and feel the breeze or the heat or the cold.   I am there calling your name, drawing you into a new reality.

 

 

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