Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Looking to the Hills - Guided Imagery

I created this guided imagery document in 2010 for a Christian community known as "Apprenticeship to Jesus" in Phoenix AZ. We were studying the attributes of God over a month. As a grand finale, I created this story using passages we had studied during the month. 

For the best results, get comfortable and have someone read this to you. Let Christ speak to your imagination, and more importantly, your heart.

Peace and grace.

--------------

You’re standing in a valley expectantly looking up to the hills beyond you.  You think to yourself, “Is he even going to come?”  Waiting is the hardest part.  Climbing this far into the wilderness was hard enough.  Longer hikes and more difficult terrain is all that remains for this trek.  Doubt starts to creep into your consciousness, and find yourself muttering, “How long do I have to wait”

There are dark clouds in the distance and the temperature is dropping quickly. You probably should have brought your jacket… but, while trying to pack light, the jacket just didn’t fit in the limited back pack.  Most of the landscape is in shadow. A humid breeze gently caresses your face but provides little comfort…  The scent of ozone in the air foreshadows imminent rain.  The moisture heavy clouds move rapidly above you and as the atmospheric landscape shifts, the sun’s rays break through gaps in the white, blue and black masses.  

You are momentarily blinded as the sun strikes your face.  Blinking hard and shielding your eyes, you look again, straining to see the daunting mountains.

As your eyes focus… to your astonishment the mountain range is gone and …there before [you is] a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it. 3And the one who sat there has the appearance of [Red speckled stone, like jasper and [a flesh-colored stone, like] carnelian.

A rainbow, resembling an enormous emerald, encircle[s] the throne... 5From the throne [comes] flashes of lightning, rumblings and peals of thunder. Before the throne, seven lamps blaze with searing bright light. These are the seven spirits of God. 6Also before the throne there [is] what [looks] like a sea of glass, clear as crystal. (REV 4:2-3, 5-6)

Shocked that you are still standing, you finally succumb and collapse to the ground.  Overhead you notice four strange beings, which you can only classify as "creatures" and they seem to be saying something, but the sounds are outside your audible range and undistinguishable from the sound of roaring rapids.

Above the throne are seraphs, angels of the highest order, each with six wings: With two wings they cover their faces, with two they cover their feet, and with two they are flying. 3 And they are calling to one another: (Isaiah 6:2-3)

The sound is piercing and you grab your head in pain. The four creatures begin to move farther away and you're finally able to focus in on the words...

"Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty;
       the whole earth is full of his glory."
(Isaiah 6:3-4)

The moment overwhelms you and you fall down on your face in reverence.  It brings to mind the words of the prophet Isaiah and now with so much more meaning.

5 "Woe to me!" you cry. "I am ruined! For I am a being of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty." (Isaiah 6:5)
Suddenly you find yourself listening to the sound of a massive crowd chanting, almost singing, and their words flood your mind...the voices sound like a cavalcade of percussion and instruments... it seems as though people of every language and tribe are saying the same things in their own language... you are able to make out some of the words in English...

"You are worthy, our Lord and God,
   to receive glory and honor and power,
   for you created all things,
      and by your will they were created
      and have their being."  (Rev 4:11)

Everything goes black, and when you come to your senses, you find yourself on the ground in a magnificent city some distance from the throne room.  The gate behind you seems to be made out of single pearl.  A man dressed in white smiles as he reaches down and helps you to your feet.

Then the angel [shows you] the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stands the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. (REV 22:1-2)

You slowly walk along the winding river for a time and you soak in the words spoken to you.  Sentiment of overwhelming truth spoken through God’s Word, words and images given to you from the Holy Spirit. 

God is Holy

God is LOVE

God is Righteous

God is Merciful

God is Creator

Lost in thought you find yourself wading through the refreshing waters of the river.  The water grows increasingly deeper and deeper until you find yourself involuntarily floating downstream.  The water is moving so rapidly now and you’re not able to get back to shore.

You’re not afraid and, in fact, overwhelming peace and unrelenting joy comes over you.  You remember the prophet Amos crying out…
“…let justice roll on like a river,
       righteousness like a never-failing stream!

The sentiment of the Psalmist ushers forth from your mouth as you swiftly move through the water.

 4 For the word of the LORD is right and true;
       he is faithful in all he does.
 5 The LORD loves righteousness and justice;
       the earth is full of his unfailing love. (Psalm 33:4-5)

Suddenly you realize the river is ending… there is a barrage of white water ahead and then… nothing, a huge drop off.  You should be panicking, but instead you smile and start swimming toward the edge.

You fall.  Like a raindrop.  You fall.  You pass through a willowy mist of cloud and continue to hurdle to the ground.

It seems like you fall for a long time… and then somehow you find yourself in the same valley, looking up to the same mountains that looked so daunting.
The rain comes, of which you realize you were a part of...  It pours and pours.  You just stand there smiling with your arms raised in worship.  The words of the Apostle Paul drum subtly in your mind:

4But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5made [you] alive with Christ even when [you] were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6And God raised [you] up with Christ and seated [you] with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. (Eph 2:4-7)

A cacophony of sound startles you and you see water streaming down the mountain.  You can make out about seven streams that trickle down forming a large river… the river is coming towards you.  Fast.

The streams, symbolic of God’s attributes, converge and pour into your chest, first filling up your heart, then spreading to your toes and your hands… you no longer can distinguish between your own cells and the molecules of water.  You try to breathe but you realize your lungs are full of water, but you don’t need oxygen.  The water starts pouring out your fingertips, and then gushing out of your mouth.


Finally, the waters subside.  The rain fades away.  The sun breaks out all the more clearly, and you start moving up the trail towards the summit.  You ponder the visions of the day and lift up praises and songs of joy to the one who loves you with an unfailing love.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Sharkman’s Re-awakening

The water slides over my back as I make even strokes, turning my chest from side to side to achieve full speed. The sun is shining and I’m in the pool - alone. Alone, yet happy within my fantasy. Ex-Navy Seal, turned vigilante. Swimming with sharks, some call me “Sharkman.”

“She” is in trouble again, captured by my arch nemesis. I must rescue her, proving my manhood and worth. I couldn’t be more than 10 or so… diving down into the eight foot pool, now suddenly filled with a school of sharks. My faithful cartilaginous pals and fellow warriors. It was always the same story played over and over in my mind. The beauty is in danger, taken into the depths of the sea. She’s trapped and drowning… I must plunge into the deep, into the darkness and free the damsel.

No rescue is accomplished without peril and sacrifice. In the saving, I lose my life – willingly laying down who I am. What I want, is to restore life and peace to the beauty at whatever cost.

So Sharkman would die for his beloved, but in the illogical world of a pre-teen, he would – eventually – return to life. He would return, not to claim the beauty as his own (for that would be too selfish), but to be a lone wanderer seeking the next “soul” to save.

After Sharkman would rise, he would live in anonymity until he was needed once again…

22 years later…

I need you “Sharkman” – (or should I say, Jesus)! Come back and restore me! My young mind took your story Lord, and made it about myself. Forgive me. But I have lost something that the boy who imagined Sharkman had, once upon a time. I’m in desperate times and I need you to return! (As I’m writing this tears fill my eyes) 

Sharkman is a part of me that I have buried. That I killed off in despair.

Will he return?

Come back, reintegrate into my life, my hero within! I miss your boldness and your passion! Jesus is the true hero, Jonathan, you didn’t have to die for anyone!

Lord Jesus, restore the passion and imagination of that 10 year old boy. Restore the heart that is now weary and downtrodden with the weight of a dreary existence. In dependence of you, grant me his strength, joy and love. Yet extinguish the self-righteous tendencies and pride-filled false humility. 

Looking back I see my inability to have what I wanted – even in my fantasy life. Ah such shallow altruism that hangs on to the present.

Forgive me, Father.

Thank you for speaking to me through a child’s heart.



Written October 29 and 30, 2010


Friday, October 29, 2010

Lost Boy

Now for something completely different.

A lying spirit speaks: "No one will ever love you the way you are, Jonathan… you’ll never find a woman who will put up with all your baggage and brokenness. Too much instability, too much wavering."

I am ashamed for feeling this way! What do I expect to get from “her” whoever she is?

I’m a ten year old boy, abandoned… I’m lost, in a strange neighborhood. There are rows of houses. I pick an attractive and pleasing house and look through the window… it looks so warm and inviting in there, beautiful decorations, plush couches… surely this can be my home, there is such a joy on the people’s faces, love is freely given and received. Acceptance, health and wellness. I see items in the house that aren’t mine... attributes that I desire. Beauty, confidence, the ability to speak eloquently, a strong faith, maturity and fun. Freedom in laughter.

I’m sure this boy, lost and alone inside himself could be a man in there… in that place!

I press my face closer to the window. The glass feels warm. Excitedly, I step away and see the entrance. I should knock…maybe they’ll let me in… No, hmmm, no. they won’t want me, look at me, why would they want ME? I look down and try to arrange the rags that are draped over me to look a little more… presentable. Anger wells up in me… “Stupid clothes” I mutter to myself, tearing at the seams and making things worse. I’m hopeless… I squirm around, looking for a way to hide my filthiness…my shortcomings… Anyone who would truly see me in the light of day wouldn’t want anything to do with me. But I really want to be in that place. I go back to the window and press up against it, staring into the wondrous landscape. It’s cold out here.

Wait a second, I wonder, they probably have clothes and a shower in there, maybe… just maybe… Perhaps I will just be a ‘servant’… maybe they’ll let me stay… at least a little while. I can be helpful… open doors, set the table, put out the trash… I can do THOSE things! 

KNOCK KNOCK… the sound of hand against wood brings me back to my senses… I just knocked on the door! Now what do I do? Before I can run or hide, the door opens. I am bathed in light and warmth. I smile. Yes this is it… home?

The woman at the door asks, “Yes, what is it…?” I stammer and stutter, shifting my weight, unable to make eye contact, “Um” Um? Is that all you’ve got, “um”? Stupid! A few moments pass, her eyes petrifying my tongue. I finally produce a coherent thought. “Well, I can help with chores, or… or… if you let me… I know PCs, calculus, history & movie trivia… of course… If you don’t need help, I will be leaving post haste!”

“Hmmm…” she says, looking skeptical at me, “Oh yes I’ve seen you around, come in. I think I can find something for you to do…” Dumbfounded, I fumble through the doorway and into the foyer. She asks me some calculus questions. Later, I help her with her computer and dispose of some trash. I take a break. The front door opens and a group of people stream in. I am so happy, I finally found comfort. She gave me a shirt for my service. I have a chance here… maybe she’ll want to adopt me; I can be useful for some things. The house is now full of voices and laughter, no one notices me for 10-15 minutes. I am in awe. 

Yet inside I haven’t forgotten my rags. Oh I hope they don’t see my shorts, or my shoes. And I hope they don’t ask me any questions. I don’t know… maybe I’m better off alone. The woman, the home owner, finally takes notice of me…… “Oh you’re still here? Can you leave? My friends are over and we have plans, sorry.” Deep down I can tell the “sorry” is just a word to her, but I eagerly accept her apology regardless of the fact that she’s far from sorry. I don’t want to leave, but I also don’t want her to be upset… I gather my things and sneak out the back door. Devastation.

But, but… I thought…? No I didn’t say the words, but they rolled around in my head. You THOUGHT? What did you THINK? That she, what, loved you? Oh foolish boy! Tears, a torrent of emotion flowed over me. “You’re right, you’re right. What was I thinking!?” You weren’t thinking! “I know I know, I’m sorry, so sorry.” Faced with the decision to wander off or stay, I decide to check out the other homes. 

The next several houses did not answer my frantic knocking. “Maybe they didn’t hear,” I tell myself. No… not interested. I wander the neighborhood and look in windows. Some homes hold no interest… some homes are too magnificent to even dream about! “No one will love me” I say to a stray dog that scampers by looking for the perfect place to relieve itself. But the dog wasn’t a stray – his owner calls him and he runs back to her with his tail wagging.

I wander back to the lady who let me help her. I knock on her door. No answer. It’s getting even colder out, and I’m more desperate looking through the window, remembering how happy I was within the walls. 

“Useful.” “Special.” “Valuable.” 

For just a second, I lost the idea that I was unlovable, and started to hope that it was a lie. I could find a home, someone could love me. Shame wakes up within me again and I hear it say: Love you? You’re crazy, the only way anyone will love you is if you do everything they tell you – perfectly. And then of course they don’t love you, for you, but for the things you can give… not much different from you. You loves this house because it will provide protection, warmth and a brief feeling of happiness. You’re using them as much as they’re using you… It doesn’t matter what you do… that house will never be your home.

I start crying.
And then I lash out on the nearby trashcan waiting to be picked up. Clang. “Ouch,” my toe hurts. I grab the can and throw it down on the ground. I kick it again… the can rolls a bit and stops. Lights come on behind me, a car is coming up the street. Embarrassed that I’m beating up a trash can – one that’s not even mine – I hastily pick it up and start walking away. 

The car pulls up in front of the house that I was admiring. And the owner steps out, looking around. “Is that you, boy? I was thinking about you.” She was thinking about me? My heart is warmed and I smile inwardly but downplay it. “Oh yeah… I was just walking by…” I manage. “So I do have some calculus…would you mind helping… I don’t want to keep you…” “Sure,” I say thoughtfully…”I have time.” (thinking to myself, I have all the time in the world, just let me in your house please.

This pattern goes on for a while and I fall more and more in love with the house.

Our time together is often short or interrupted but it is precious to me. We talk and get a little off calculus… When she doesn’t need help, I find myself watching her house, and at riskier moments, sitting in her lawn. I don’t stray too far from the street corner. My birthday comes. No one usually remembers or cares about my birthday…some will go through the motions, others will buy gifts… the home owner gives me a Star Wars themed card. She KNOWS me! The inscription says “your one of my best friends” 

I AM ELATED! I did it, I’m IN the house! It may be mine after all! I don’t want to leave – ever! 

The words “best friends” don’t leave my mind… the smell of the house was imprinted on that letter and it doesn’t stray far from my nose… I start making excuses to be around the house. One day I wander by and the lights are on in the window. I know she’s home, but she won’t answer my knock. I keep knocking, ringing the bell. Nothing. 

Days go on… the lights are on, but inaccessible to me. As I watch the house, friends come and go. She’s avoiding me. Confusion…sadness. Paradise lost. “What happened?” See I told you. She doesn’t like you, she never did… well maybe she did, but you blew it. You destroyed your chances of having a home. You’re too needy!

I want to pull out my hair and scream. What have I done? Panic sets in. “I must, must make this right.” I have been stripped of my status as a best friend by silence and avoidance. My mind struggles to make sense of it… “I just have to work harder, keep my distance and help better…do more… If she won’t talk to me, I’ll leave her a note.” 

Days go by. Nothing. My mind is swirling with hypotheticals… 

Finally I find a reply on the curb: “I have a lot of friends but none of them treat me the way you do. You make me feel uncomfortable.” My fears are confirmed. I blew my chance! “You!” I scream. “This is all your fault! If only you were content with doing some yard work and answering calculus questions… you would still be able to talk to her… to BE in the house as a guest… I’m never trusting you again. All this time, you’ve been blind to how you were making her feel. Never will you be able to set foot on that yard, let alone sit on the couch or eat at the dinner table.”

No more warmth. Back on the streets, I’m only left with myself again. 

The shirt I had is ruined. Now I don’t want to go to any other house. What’s the point? It’s a small neighborhood. My thoughts still linger on that house. It was amazing. I wanted it too much. My desperation took control and I destroyed the very dream I was desperately putting all my hope in. If I can move into a house, then I have success, I have worth. People would respect a man with a house – only men have homes, boys don’t have houses… I am a boy, but I want to be a man… to be a man, I need a house!

For a long time, I just wandered the streets… memories of that house stuck in my mind. If only…if only I wasn’t ME, if only the house could have depended on me a little longer, I could have helped with more math. My hate began to grow and spill over into every aspect. I came to hate this neighborhood and the houses in them. I gotta get out of here. But I don’t know where to go… I’m hungry, feeling completely worthless. 

I move on from there and follow a few other boys to another neighborhood, a bigger neighborhood… maybe there will be a house that I can move into there…


written October 29,2010

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Welcome to the dark parts

Father God,

To you all – ALL – hearts are open.

All motives and secrets are known 
Nothing can be hidden
Everything is laid bare

When I see the darkness in my soul
help me not to run
Or hide or escape

But let me stand with you 
And walk into the scary unknown parts 
Of my heart 

With You by my side

I’m so angry at my darkness 
I don’t understand why
I can’t make it go away...




written 10/2/2010