and then He came

...and then He came

Stressed by anxiety of my own creation,
plagued by fear and deep, subconscious shame,
my inner turmoil defied imagination—
and then He came.

Competition, resentment, condemnation,
haunted by other demons I can’t name,
fighting confusion, worry, and frustration—
and then He came.


Turning to denial, rationalization,
casting about to start assigning blame,
questioning my saneness, pond’ring self-obliteration—
and then He came.

Almost imperceptibly, softly, tenderly, but relentlessly
He entered my consciousness,
letting me know in undefinable ways that He loved me,
and inviting me to rely on his care
with a certainty beyond description,
and a love without limit or demand.
And I believed—nay, I knew!

Basking in the warmth of this new-found affection,
feeling a peace even Satan can’t defame,
opting to grow in a brand-new direction—
because He came.

Trinity

To whom do I pray—the Father, the Son, or that elusive Person, the Holy Spirit? Does it make any difference? [As an aside, how often have we heard the Holy Spirit referred to as an “it”? Recall that Jesus said in John 16:12-13 that He would “send someone to walk beside us and guide us into all truth.” That sure sounds like a PERSON to me!]
How does one describe this elusive Person? A few decades back, I conceived the idea that He was the “communications arm” of the Trinity, He who told us things, the channel through whom we could relate to the Father and the Son, even though clearly I couldn’t see or touch him. A few decades before that, during confirmation class at age 14, my Lutheran pastor used this analogy: my father was a doctor to his patients, a husband to my mother, and a dad to me—but he was all the same person, perceived from different perspectives: ditto for the triune God. That seemed to satisfy me better that anything I’d heard so far, and maybe since!
The upshot? I doubt God cares a whit to which person of his trinity we talk, as long as we do it. He’ll hear us–He always does!

Change

Many years ago when it was strongly suggested to me that I needed to “change” my ways. I thought, “Change. Who wants it? Why do I need to? What ways of thinking or acting do you refer to? What’s the point, anyway? Oh, I suppose there are a few little things which MIGHT be improved, but, on the whole, life’s pretty good right now, isn’t it? If it ain’t broke, why fix it?” The persons recommending this to me might as well have been expounding in Greek. I considered myself of at least average intelligence, but for the life of me—FOR THE LIFE OF ME [little did I know tha’s EXACTLY what was at stake!]—I couldn’t see any reason even to entertain the subject. Denial was rampan: I hadn’t a clue!
Eventually, after years of sharing groups, therapy, retreats, conferences, and prayer, the truth began to dawn: the only evidence of life is growth. This requires 1. an open mind, 2. an honest look at myself, and 3. a willingness to make serious alterations in my attitudes and behaviors. This is work of the most profound, noble, and productive sort, because through such efforts God effects miracles! St. Paul referred to it as a new mind, Job chronicled a new life, AA calls it serenity, and Jesus mentions being born of the Spirit. Aren’t they different expressions of the same phenomenon?
Jesus was the inspiration and agent of this change, but I had my part too. It began with self-examination, then confession, then repentance, then asking him, with all the earnestness I could muster, to change me. And, by his grace, the process started. It’s still going on!