Saturday, June 20, 2020

Running from the beast...I’m just saying

The acrid stench stung my nostrils. Instinctively they curled in some primal flight reflex. If they could run away my face would be absent of it’s ability to smell. If odor could take a form, the creature that barred my path stood as tall as a weavers beam and twice as stout. But when flight wasn’t an option the odor kicked in another primal urge — fight. 

 

My feet spread apart shoulder width and my body turned slightly sideways giving the creature less mass to assault. Reaching to the sheath at my side, I fumbled to release the latch and swing upward my only weapon. The handle was smooth and cool to the touch and the release from the sheath made a slight swipe sound. The creature cocked its head at the sound and for a moment diverted its eyes from mine to the weapon. It curled it’s lip and a low rumble rolled out of its mouth.

 

Moisture dripped. It dripped from my armpits, dripped from my brow, and beaded across my lip. Yet my mouth went dry. Swallowing couldn’t quench the thirst that my body screamed for, it only served to remind me of my dyer situation. How could I have let this happen? What dark forces were at work that called this beast out of its pit and into my path? The questions trailed off as a waft of the beast’s breath sent a shiver down my spine. 

 

When I woke, Porthos, my dog, was sticking his face in front of mine, and the acrid stench of the before mentioned beast was real, only the bared teeth were replaced by the happy go lucky “smile” of my faithful friend. He wanted to go out.

 

In that split second before waking, when REM sleep gives way to consciousness, my neurons fired a dream in response to real life. The fascinating part is the nature of the interpretation. Why did I imagine my cuddly golden doodle as a ferocious beast? Freud would have a field day with that.

 

Everyday our minds transform simple events into adversarial situations. I was in the checkout line at Hobby Lobby . The register to my right had a customer at the counter and a gentleman in line. At some point the manager said, “this line is closed.” The gentleman was not happy. “It would have been nice if someone had told me.” I offered for him to get ahead of me, to which he was appreciative.

 

In that split second the courteous clerks had become the man’s adversaries. It doesn’t take much to turn our smiles to snarls, and our imagination produces monsters that were never there. Our flesh is bent on taking every opportunity and making it into something ferocious. For example:

 

1.     The wind catches the door and it slams. Your spouse turns around with a scowl, “why are you so mad?”

2.     A coworker doesn’t hold the door for you as he leaves the building and you think, “how rude, just wait till I go out in front of him.” Little did you know that his mind was preoccupied with an emergency at home.

3.     You receive an email from a church member, “I noticed that your baby was crying in church. Did you know we have a nursery?” How dare they stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong and judge you. But in the church member’s mind they were trying to be helpful. When their children were little there was no question about where babies went during church.

 

Our imagination partners with our flesh to conceive the worst in people and we lash out, ignore, hold grudges, and protect ourselves at all cost. What if we took every thought captive, submitted them to Jesus, and then reacted in love and grace? 

 

2 Corinthians 10: 3-7, “For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ, being ready to punish every disobedience, when your obedience is complete. Look at what is before your eyes. If anyone is confident that he is Christ's, let him remind himself that just as he is Christ's, so also are we.”

 

We are all in Christ, not monsters, both brothers and sisters in the faith. I’m just saying..

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