Whatsoever...

I do not have to create mini-kingdoms of imaginary glory, in hopes to feel satisfaction, in an effort to “be something”. I really can step into the plans that the Godhead already have for me.

The Spirit doesn’t negotiate with my emotions. He doesn’t speak in philosophical terms, either. He doesn’t transact in head knowledge. His comforts come soul-deep with what(so)ever is honest, what(so)ever is truly right, and what(so)ever is lovely, good news.

What(so)ever.

It is then up to me to give The Holy Whatsoever - to give Him - my full attention. I can sit where I am, insisting on my imitation-whatsoevers, fists full of pipe-dreams, trying to become a plumber. Or, I can acknowledge that those pipe-dreams have actually been secretly siphoning off my joy.

It’s to my advantage to let all the pipes drop, and run to the One who alone has a glory-ous perspective on this thing called my life.

Not my neighbor’s life. Not my best friend’s life.

My life. There is no place else to know Him, other than right where I am. Not where I wish I was.

He will not force His life-giving perspective onto me. There is no mentor alive, anywhere, that can impart it to me. There is no spigot I can twist that lets the comfort that makes my life worth living, flow into my empty places, filling my soul-cavern.

He always offers Himself. The Godhead will not obligate Himself to my version of my best life.

He offers Himself.

I can reach out and grab tight hold of Himself, alone, right now - or I can wait three years or forty years to find out that everything - marriage, family, goals, art, personal expression of every kind, religion - my pseudo-whatsoever all falls apart without Him.

There will always be a difference between human imagination and sanctified imagination. The devil is an expert purveyor in the false. When God tells me not to lean on my own understanding, it is because without unflinching submission to the Holy Spirit, my own understanding becomes a manufacturing plant for little phony whatsoevers….itty bitty baby idols, like houses or hobbies, pet-sins-kept-secret, and pet dogmas that bite the very people who love me most.

My Deliverer knows that once I give the enemy access to any part of my being, the enemy will not stop there.

See, the devil also has goals and an imagination. He will instigate every scheme he can, to get me to doubt the goodness of God. To get me to look elsewhere for satisfaction. To settle for the knock-off Whatsoever Thing.

I can always know when the devil’s schemes are succeeding, when weeds choke out flowers, when “an enemy hath done this” (Matthew 13: 28)…

…it is precisely at that point when I lose my peace.

Spiritual War Fare

You prepare a feast for me

in the presence of my enemies.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil.

My cup overflows with blessings.

Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me

all the days of my life…

all the makings for an incredible cashew pesto…

I had many a conversation with many a son and daughter of God, this past 2023. In almost every case, nearly without fail, people are embattled. In some cases, deeply so.

It makes sense, because we do have an enemy, and he is not “flesh and blood”. Our enemy is a soul-realm-enemy, but the fact that he operates in the soul and cannot kill our body doesn’t make him less dangerous. It makes him more dangerous.

A few weeks ago, and true to our yearly tradition, Tim and I watched the old Christmas movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. The same line always grabs my full attention, every year - the opening bit when the two angels are having a conversation:

Franklin: A man down on Earth needs our help.
Clarence: Splendid! Is he sick?
Franklin: No, worse, he's discouraged.

…breakfast.

We’ve all heard of “MRE’s” - Meals Ready to Eat - used by our military. The Institute of Medicine did a comprehensive study of humans under combat conditions and determined that service members (who were classified as highly active persons between the ages of 18 and 30) typically burn about 4,200 calories a day, but tended to only consume about 2,400 calories a day during combat, entering a negative energy balance.

If not addressed, this negative energy balance can prove to be dangerous for national security. It occurs when service members fail to consume full portions of their rations. The reason for this? Usually great stress, and discouragement.

In other words, the provision has been made for the warrior. It has been meticulously measured and portioned for their highest good and for the achievement of victory. But if the warrior becomes discouraged or distracted and won’t eat it, eat all of it, he will weaken over time.

I will never forget walking in on this scene (see above image). It was a table prepared for me on a chilly autumn day in mid-October in Woodstock, Vermont. I had spent a glorious (but laborious) week teaching women in a beautiful workshop facilitated by Laura McCollough of Art and Faith Creative

On this particular evening, we convened at a beautiful red barn, owned and run by the historic Woodstock Inn. We’d spent some time walking the property before being called to dinner, and by the time we were summoned inside I was cold and hungry. The barn doors slid open, and smiling staff beckoned.

Just look at what met my gaze.

The aroma of the food was the first thing I noticed. After that, I saw how every detail had been meticulously prepared beforehand. You better know I relished every bite.

Hey you. You, there, in the absolute thick of it. You with the four small children. You, who just retired and your fixed income won’t cut it. You, caring for your aging dad. You with the newborn. You with the diagnosis. You who just made a sickening discovery. You who feels betrayed or abandoned.

Eat.

Your Heavenly Father saw all this chaos coming, before it ever landed on your door. He designed your “MRE” - sufficient to the day.

But you gotta sit down and eat it. Eat every single thing on the plate.

You must relish that sermon. Read the chapter of that book. Hear the word of the Lord in the lips of that friend. Buy the flowers. Open the sketchbook. Take the walk.

Feed your soul on what is true and beautiful before you wither up.

Let this blog post be your appetizer.

PS. I love you.