Friday, September 13, 2013

My heart



 I don't need a sit down at a cold, wood table and a stern face telling me I'm not correctly aware of what exactly is mind, spirit, soul. Or any of that. This is for the lighter end of the human. Not for ones that are looking for right- wrong readings, rather for people that are waking up to the birds chirping and have started thinking, holy cow, I want to read something.


I follow Jesus with my heart. 

I don't follow Him with (just) my feelings. My feelings have long been known to ditch me drug dealer style in the desert. Confused, beat up, mangled and relationally dehydrated, I've managed to hitchhike back to the diner, slam my head on the table, and motion for coffee. I ain't a fan of doing business with my emotions only. They aren't living on separate islands and all from me. Its just they don't  necessarily  lead me to Jesus. They help me in many, many ways, draw beautiful colors across my heart. But some emotions have painted some ugly pictures and hung in my gallery for way too long. Which brings me to the desert scene.

I don't follow Jesus with (just) my brain. Logic. Ms. Brain isn't the most focused cerebral. Can't stay on a thought too long before its skinny dipping in a memory somewhere. Ms. Brain who probably if I can slide it out here, fills her time with too much analysis and curiosity. Randomly jumps of idea cliffs and races down the passion driveway in the rain to stomp in puddles. She's awfully odd. Which has left Ms. Brain a poor way to follow anything for any period of time. Give her a new idea, a person, an adventure, an experience and she is grabbing her briefcase and rushing to meet the next train. She never contains all the right solutions-encyclopedias on her own. She sorta is helpless without the heart. Oh sure she can add quite a bit of math, and send kids off into the yard to hunt for bugs. She can make cupcakes pretty and spell Mississsipi (actually thats quite misspelled) with her eyes shut twice. But she sure can't follow Jesus like the heart can. She does try, but usually ends up on the green grassy hill at the local park, staring up at the night sky and asking millions of questions, while licking cotton candy off her fingers and humming David Isely tunes. So for me, Ms. Brain is a bit of a helper. A dot that helps connect. A way to translate heart language into waves. Sense waves. Information waves.   I aint looking to ditch Ms. Brain anytime, but I know better than to try to follow Jesus with just Ms. Brain in her pickup truck of information, and ripped and faded maps of memories, expired registration and emotions…I mean... Even today she wanted to high tail it to the coffee shop with her kids for morning cinnamon rolls and local brewed coffee, and then pick her husband up at work and drive  on off to crisp air, a cabin, and a bonfire somewhere in northern Michigan. Does Jesus even go to Michigan? 

I follow Jesus with my heart. Which medically is odd. Because blood and valves aren't quite the best things to follow someone around with. Think how bad that journey could get after one run in with a coyote. Can't imagine sitting by the campfire that night and calming my heart down. 

"Where going at it again tomorrow boys, heres some whiskey". I insist.

 Blood is red-bold and stubborn and set on what its set on,  and valves damn well can't go at it alone without the blood. So its a bit of a fiasco trying to motivate the two for another day of atrial phib and spontaneous bursts of fight and flight.  I need this heart. So wrap the medical idea of heart up in the palm of your hand and toss it right out of the way. I'm not talking about this heart when it comes to Jesus.

 I'm talking about my heart that can relationship. 

Thats what I follow Jesus with. The part of me that  has received and can now give love. And I'm constantly being transformed, renewed. Its the part of me that does the asking, seeking, knocking. Its where I relationship with Him.  Its where it matters when it comes to recognizing things. Eternal things. And the things of Christ, they form deep rivers of water in me. And they fill and fill. 

Ms. Brain and my emotions connect with me there but they don't lead me there, I Promise. I really can't separate the three and put them in three solitude suites in Italy for a few years, and be any bit at all ok.  

But I can separate who is the leader, and when. 

I like feeling. I like thinking. I like being in relationship.

And if one aint working right, the other two notice.

I need emotions. I need my brain. I need my heart. 
To be healthy, grow, be at liberty.

`The Middle



update on internal health and well-being of above writer. 

My emotions have been inspirationally-busy. Its autumn. They love a bit of a cool rush. So its a bit like trying to have a sugar-loaded 2 year old sit still for a sermon on Speaking with Tongues. (seriously its with not in) They are high energy. And then sometimes, they are down. With a wacked out knee its hard to not stare a bit in the direction of frustration. 

 Ms. Brain's briefcase is getting bigger. And Ms. Brain's is still messy-haired and brightly dressed,  walking around in skip-step, sending and receiving waves. News waves. Information waves. Wine waves. Love waves. Curious waves. Noticing waves.

And my heart. Its still. In union. With His. And with others. 

A trailer park for laughs



A trailer park for laughs.

We all need shelter. A spot to put things.

This place is for laughs.

Laugh here for a month or a year at a time.