The Egg and I

If we are taught that ‘GOD’ is three separate personalities in one; Father, Son and Holy Ghost~then when we finally meet ‘God’ will we see three separate beings, or just one? Will he look like Jesus? What will the Father look like? Or the Holy Ghost? Will we just see them all via our spirit?

I was taught the Trinity was like an egg. Three in one ~ shell, yolk and the slimy part. Is the Father the shell that holds them altogether and the Holy Ghost is the see through stuff? So Jesus is the yolk? Or vice versa?

Was there a hidden message in Matthew 11:30? For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

The profundity of God, his inestimable wisdom and the intense power of the scriptures. Who can really say they know the answers?

But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; ~ 1Corinthians 1:27

I believe that when the scriptures said that Mary pondered all these things in her heart that she was truly in awe of God’s mighty power and his ability to work through her, a lowly human. I, too, ponder all these things! I write them down and blog them for posterity and hoping others out there in blog-world might wonder the same things and if they have any answers however feeble they might be.

Defining Who I Am?

What defines a person? Their marital, job, or religious status? Who am I? Who will I become after the divorce? Will I still be Dawn Allen? I have no ‘job’ status. I am disabled and unable to work in the real world. I will no longer be a wife. I guess I will always be a mother and grandmother except that they are not daily jobs any more.

I will always be a woman. I will always be a Christian…. I hope. I won’t always be alive, married, divorced or have a dog. I won’t always have happiness though I pray to always seek God’s face and not just his hands. I will not always be an artist. I will not always have a computer or a home. Hopefully, I will always have my music to worship the Lord of my spirit but if not, I will make up melodies in my heart!

What defines me? I am a human with a heart that breaks sorely but can lash out in fear at the same time. I can love and hate in the same breath. Am I a vicious person? Don’t I have the love of God supposedly in me? Yes, supposedly. I believe it is an ongoing process ~ just as it is with you my friend.

Does the fear, or hatred, or pain, or love define me? I would think what defines me would be based on who is doing the defining. If it is you, my reader, I may be defined as a hypocritical, judgmental, religious fool. Forbid. To the politician I am a ‘yea’ or ‘nay’ vote. To the neighbor I walk the dogs for I am a great help. To my husband… my step-kids… my mother…my brother…my son…possibly a curse.

The most important would be who God defines me as. Thankfully, he sees past the shame and pain and guilt and hatred and looks deep into my heart to the tiniest shred of delight in him, alone. He gave his life to redeem us from ourselves. His definition of who we are cannot be measured on human scales. Thankfully.

While being a good Christian, going to church, obeying the rules and loving others as ourselves are noble attributes; God only defines us by our true love and desire for a deep, personally intimate relationship with him.

Whilst I am losing all my worldly attachments, my human definitions and the chaff is being burned, all I have left to define me is my heartfelt love towards a God I cannot see. It is the only definition that will carry me through night and day~ dark and light.

I Cry Day and Night!

Here’s my revelation or epiphany for the day.

Maybe, just maybe, people don’t murder because they are evil. Don’t get me wrong. There is much evil in this world and many a person is completely controlled by its forces. But I am not convinced all murders are done out of an evil heart.

I had a dream last night where I almost killed someone. Was it evil that drove me to the desire? No. It was pure instinct that came out of sheer frustration because… this person was pure evil and was taunting me to a point of breaking.

Out of my frustration I wanted to stop that person from taunting me so horribly. The only thing I could think of was to grab the neck and shake the life out! Make them stop! I stopped when I realized what I was about to do.

I cannot totally blame that person for their viciousness. That is all they were taught. No one taught them basic respect or any solid version of how to really love a person. It is out of their ineptness of emotional fortitude that they are the way they are. It fuels their very existence in place of discovering why love is so vital.

It is sad. No one taught me how to love either. I just desired to grasp it so badly that I gleaned from any of the positive folks in my life. Then I met Jesus.

Am I perfect? Not in any way, shape or form. I just have a stronger desire than most to be in contact with reality and all its truths ~ to a fault and to my detriment a times.

Maybe it would have left the world in a better place if I had strangled that person and put the world out of its misery but alas, all I can do is pray that they will find their purpose in life and seek the one who created them to love.

Why?

"Why did I not die at birth?

Why did I not perish when I came from the womb?

Why did the knees receive me?

Or why the breasts, that I should nurse?

For now I would have lain still and been quiet,

I would have been asleep;

Then I would have been at rest

With kings and counselors of the earth,

Who built ruins for themselves,

Or with princes who had gold,

Who filled their houses with silver;

Or why was I not hidden like a stillborn child,

Like infants who never saw light?

There the wicked cease from troubling,

And there the weary are at rest.

There the prisoners rest together;

They do not hear the voice of the oppressor.

The small and great are there,

And the servant is free from his master.

Job 3:11-19

Oh Lord?

We sing our praise songs with all our hearts! ‘Teach me to love you Lord and not the things of this world!’ Then when he does what we ask, we freak and scream!

‘Lord why is this happening? Don’t you love me? Have mercy!’

We are a pathetic, frail bunch of humans in need of God’s judgment. But more so, his constant abiding love, mercy and abundant grace!

Wretched Stench!

As my stomach lurched I willed it back to just queasy. That had to be the most wretched smell I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And not just a one time reunion but every day around noon.

You see, I walk my neighbor’s dogs every day at lunch as a favor to her. Her female dog seems to have an anal problem. It was thought to be an impacted anal gland but the vet ruled that out. She possibly had one and the fluid could have seeped into her hair at her back end causing a skunk-like effect. My neighbor was told that nothing would remove the smell.

When she doused the dog’s tail with cologne I begged her to stop. Now my nose was being assaulted with a good smell going very bad! The mixture was nauseating.

I moan to God then repent of my selfishness. Can God use me anywhere in the world if I am so touchy with what I deem as smelly? ‘But Lord that has to be the worst thing I have ever smelled!’ I realize he knows the smell well enough. Is that the worst thing he has ever smelled? Then I realize us humans living in our own sin is probably the worst smell he has encountered.

Dirty, wretched and stinking; like rotting flesh. Clean me and make me whole. I pray to be a sweet odor to your nostrils. A pleasantness upon your remembrance. Anoint me with the oil of gladness and perfume pure and holy.

The Spider Became my Only Refuge

As a young teenager, it was decided that I was ‘rebellious’ and needed help. At that time the options for folks that had money or good insurance was to ‘hospitalize’ the child. By that I am meaning a mental institution. Private, of course, but still the same.

I was labeled rebellious but if any of the well-groomed psychologists had more than a desire to make money they would have clearly seen that I was lonely, abused and feeling quite unloved.

Prior to my being ‘locked up’, I had told my mother about my brother molesting me. My sister had just opened the door to tell her that our father had molested her and I thought this was a good time as any to share my experiences. My mother gave my sister solace and turned to me with a glare and called me a liar! I would have been completely devastated except that this was not the first time my sister got the accolades while I got burned. It was par for course and I was merely hoping.

I was locked up for 2.5 months. It wasn’t ‘bad’ only for the reason that it was better than living at home with my horrid mother and siblings. At one point, the shrink wanted me to write an autobiography or something and I didn’t seem to possess the knowledge to get this done in a timely manner. I was really locked up for 2-3 weeks. I was put in a room with a small window that was too high to see out of, a small bed and a bathroom. I was allowed out to get my meals and bring it back to my room. I was to see no one.

In that great solitary confinement I noticed a spider. I guess he was locked in also. So as to not go crazy from lack of any outside communication I began to talk to the spider. He might have actually been listening… or was that all the medication they had me doped on? He became my only ally. Upon waking I would look for him first thing. I believe I even named him although I cannot remember what it was.

I realize today, maybe the first time realizing this or a memory fault, that not once did I cry out to ‘God’. I was raised in the Catholic Church for about 5-6 years as a child. It was where we went on Sunday mornings and what my relatives did. It was the right and religious things to do. God? He was that man stuck there up on the cross at the front. Authority was the guy up front wearing the robes and hat speaking a funny language. That was the way of life.

So, why would I have called out to God in my time of need? In all that religion I had no idea that he really existed beyond the statue that hung up high from the cathedral ceiling. Then, if I turned my head I could see him sitting pretty in his mothers lap as a child. Who was God?

I believe that during those rough years at home, having every amenity life could afford but no human love, was when I made the choice that I was an Atheist. I knew no better. (I also decided I wanted to become an alcoholic for a career, if that is to give any indication of how confused I was about all of life!)

Five years later, God graciously shone his light on my life and became a reality to me. Now almost 30 years later he is finally becoming the true relationship I have yearned for and looked to man to grow for me, to no avail.

God truly is a good God… all the time… even if we don’t see him. We cannot see the wind but still it refreshes us on a hot day.