The Aftermath – What Remains?

 

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The shaking is intended for certain heartbreak and our fainting.

How do we deal with the aftermath?  The consequences of a significant unpleasant event lingers like a bitter aftertaste. It is the rumble left behind when our foundations are jolted out of alignment by an unexpected earthquake. It is when embedded chains even invisible to us are brought into full focus and we have to deal with our new reality. Are we going to stay bound or break free from false foundations? Anything that can be shaken should not have been trusted in the first place.

I would not confuse
the bogus
with the spurious.
The bogus
is a sore thumb
while the spurious
pours forth
as fish and circuses.  (An excerpt from Spurious by Rae Armantrout.)

We hold fast to wrong  foundations as the definition of our core identity till a slip-up exposes the hollow circuses  we’ve allowed to define and be responsible for our happiness. I held on to the love of a certain boy long ago, whose lopsided smile took my breath away till fishes and circuses rained on my parade. It was a fantasy interrupted by a rude rap on my door.

Who goes there?

Rain.

I’ve been a Californian for so long –  I don’t know how to behave in the presence of rain.
Especially a torrent propelling me down fury’s road of liquid drama featuring three deranged and frazzled people needing Dr. Phil’s intervention. Metaphors are always adept in helping me manage painful realities. I closed my eyes and refused to see rain – messy, distressing and unwelcome.

Marriage, friendships, job or career, beauty or charm, money, wealth, sexual orientation or even race, make pretty wobbly foundations.  I’m not sure race should even make the list but in the context of self-worth for some pathetic folks, it is an over-aching standard.

Still I refuse to give up on family and children – pain and joy comes with the territory and privilege of loving and being loved by others. I found out through my experience that only faith can withstand the tremors and earthquakes.  Faith is what remains. God is able to turn what was intended for our unravelling for some sort of good – like stripping us from clutches, laying a new foundation of greater faith and exposing our false gods.

“When you connect your purpose to your perspective, nobody else holds your keys.” Pastor  Steven Furtick 

The venom of anger and hate would only serve to shackle my future to my past. Praise is the only tool powerful enough to break every chain. Indeed life is so much more than these disappointments that now loom so large but in a few years will be so insignificant when compared to God’s greater vision for our lives.
May each aftermath find you and me standing in faith, with hands raised so high the chains are broken. There is only One worthy of our trust because He will always be faithful in His love for us.

Peace to all our broken pieces.

 

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Selfies, Fleshly Cuffs – Much Ado About IT

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This is the way a certain man’s *story ends:
He had John beheaded in the dungeon. And John’s head, ratty with matted dreadlocks and a thick, scruffy beard, was placed on a gleaming silver platter and given to the girl, who served it to her mother, Herodias. Then his followers came, took away the decapitated body and buried it…
The it stopped me cold. Why didn’t the story say buried him?

In our self-obsessed culture, we tend to place people with the It-Factor on ivory pedestals, gawk at their sculptured (airbrushed) perfection in glossy prints and agree that they are entitled to a form of rarefied air and lifestyle. Somehow the image, this physical part of us has become our highest hope. We obsess about body image, contour, nip and tuck our angles and curves. In this selfie-crazed world, what chance does the soul, the spirit have to thrive?

“I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more.” Luke 12:4

I live in LA, the most cynical city in the world and as Andy Warhol’s  Interview Magazine promotes their “The #ME Issue” an issue dedicated to the art of the celebrity selfie featuring eight covers profiling the “Instagang” – Victoria Beckham, Selena Gomez, Kim Kardashian, Miley Cyrus, Mert Alas, Madonna, Jennifer Lopez and Zayn Malik et al., I wonder if there’s a place for higher-level introspection, for God, for selflessness in our dizzy urban kaleidoscope.

Really??!

Really?!

It sucks, but at some point, everyone’s story will come to an end. What’s left behind becomes it and lest the decaying, decomposing carcass constitute a health hazard, it is buried in the original organic matter to bond with grave robbers, maggots and critters. For some, their real essence, (the genderless soul) will be shocked to find that beyond our fleshy cuffs, this shell of flesh, this body of death, what you look like doesn’t matter after all.

Neither does what you do or who you are. The most important attribute is who you believed in. Here’s wishing us all a selfless life and a happy ending.

*story @ Matthew 14 (paraphrased)