Marked By Our Owner

Back when I was a kid, mom would have me write my name or initials on my toys, games, and jackets to distinguish them as my belongings. This was a good strategy for actually going home from school, sitters', play-dates, parks, school, etc. with what belonged to me and for avoiding fights with kids who wanted to insist that what you brought was theirs since they had one just like it at home. Granted, this strategy drastically decreased the later collector's value but at least it solved some problems. By bearing my mark, the item was identified as mine and, therefore, revealed a little about me.

I was reading in Luke's Gospel this morning and came to a revelation. The section I read was Luke 20:20-26 where some spies for the teachers of the law go to Jesus to try and trick Him by asking about paying taxes to Caesar. The scene ends with the classic "Then give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's." I have heard many interpretations of this, usually only along the lines of financial responsibility. However, if you step back to verse 24, then you can see that Jesus asks an important question that provides the true key to His answer.

"Show me a denarius. Whose image and inscription are on it?"

Jesus identifies the money with Caesar - it is his, give it to him. Then He tells us to give to God what belongs to Him. We can take from the context that this means that whatever bears God's image and inscription belongs to Him and should thus be given. Now what bears God's image?

"So God created mankind in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them." - Genesis 1:27

30 Days of Thanks - Day 19 - Ah-ha! Moments

You know what I am talking about. Those little moments when something just clicks in your head and it makes all of the difference. As someone who taught and still ministers to kids, too, this can be just as rewarding of an experience for the teacher as it is for the student. I think it can be these moments that make God smile when something the Holy Spirit has been trying to get through to us finally resonates in our minds or when we finally notice that nifty connection in Scripture.

I had one of these moments while I was reading in my Bible this past week. Something that happened in John 2 finally hit me on a much deeper level. It was about the miracle at the wedding at Cana in Galilee. No, this is not some revelation that is going to give people another excuse to be drunken idiots - they have already twisted this Scripture enough for that purpose. This involves the jars used.

We are told in John 2:6 that, "Nearby stood six stone water jars, the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing, each holding from twenty to thirty gallons." These are the jars chosen to be filled with water which is then turned into wine. I have heard preachers try to argue that changing the water to wine was about making the dirty water into something useful but that is an interpretation that completely overlooks the fact that in verse seven Jesus tells them to fill the jars with water. These are clean jars. These are not jars that were just being used for washing. The water was as clean of water as they had available. The symbolism is not of dirty water being made into clean wine.

Think about it. These were the water jars to be used for ceremonial cleaning - a ritualistic washing that would be undone as time progressed. We also know that wine is later used as a symbol for Christ's blood in the Eucharist. So this ceremonial water, which was not sufficient, is transformed into a symbol for the cleansing blood of Christ that is sufficient. From this, verse ten takes on greater meaning as it describes much more than party provisions by alluding to Grace coming in to fulfill the Law. It also amplifies verse eleven when it says that He was revealing "His glory" and not just "His power".

30 Days of Thanks - Day 14 - Everything Matters

"For a brief time, I was here; and for a brief time, I mattered." - Harlan Ellison

We must face the fact that everything we do ultimately - through the cause and effect nature of our universe - matters. Someone is affected and, therefore, someone else is affected and so on ad infinitum. When we understand this, we should better value the time we spend here.

One (Crazy) Month

I apologize for not updating for over a month. Though I do not know if I have any regular readers to whom I should apologize, I am extending that apology to myself. I have a bank of half-finished posts that I can't remember why I started writing in the first place, I have ideas for posts that I've been wanting to do with several more that I've forgotten by now, and I quite enjoy writing as it helps me to process life. As a matter of fact, it's that life which has gotten in the way for the past month. I don't wish to bore anyone with the details but to give you an idea I'll borrow the list format that my friend Savannah uses on her blog.

1. I had various appointments and classes that second full week of September, not to mention my parents returned from their trip (and brought me a lovely soccer jersey for the Scottish national team).

2. The third full week contained a day of intense picking that would have floored Mike and Frank in which I obtained several books, a few old N64 games, and a snowboard I intend to use as a bookshelf in the future. I also attended the highland games in Eminence, KY with my dad (both of us sporting our kilts).

3. Sadly, after returning from the games, we learned that my grandma on my mom's side had been rushed to the hospital with several issues. We were told that there were two options: operate so she 'lives' in a vegetative state for less than a year at most and needs continual fixes, or pump her full of antibiotics and pain killers so she can go out with as little pain as possible sooner.

4. The option taken was the latter. The family took rotating shifts to sit with her and look after her needs more than the hospice workers (for whom we are still very grateful) could. I took a few of these and was glad to spend the time with her even if she was out for most of it. I would sit and knit while I waited (a few hats and most of a thick scarf were finished in this time).

5. On Tuesday, October 4th, the last time anyone had any real chance to talk with her while she was conscious, I was sitting with her. She woke up at one point and asked me where her baby was, saying, "Didn't I have a baby?" When I told her that there wasn't a baby with us, she looked very sad and went back to sleep. The last time I know of that she spoke to anyone was to me as I was putting some gel on her lips to keep them from chapping. She woke up and asked what I was doing. I told her I was putting her makeup on so she would look "right pretty" when she saw grandpa. "And Jesus too," she said. Yes, grandma, and Jesus too.

6. I went out the next day and bought her a soft baby doll so that she would have a baby if she woke up again. It felt silly at the time, but I also felt I should do it.

7. Grandma passed on through the morning of the 10th. The visitation was the next day and my male cousins and I were pallbearers the day after that. It was more like a family reunion. There wasn't much crying or sorrow as we knew it was coming far enough ahead and we knew she was ready.

8. I lay the doll in the coffin beside her. One of her sisters then mentioned that it was interesting that grandma had asked about the baby. Grandpa had as well when he was dying. We then found out that my mom, thought to be one of eight, was actually supposed to have been one of nine. A baby was lost before she (and her sisters as mom was a triplet) was born. Grandma had never talked about it and the few who knew never brought it up for her sake. I'm glad I gave her that doll.

9. On the 13th I woke up to a text message from my best friend down in our college town. He had an extra ticket to go see David Crowder*Band's final tour in Lawrence, Kansas and he and his mom (who I'd gladly claim as well) wanted me to go with them. I missed them both dearly and needed the trip so I set out for Murray the next day to head out to the land of Dorothy and Toto.

10. I got down to Murray early and just managed to catch the dearest boy I know to give him something, chat him up, and get in a good hug.

11. We finally managed to leave Murray around 8:30-ish at night (don't ask). The trip went fairly well except we learned that many of the gas stations (and their bathrooms) close up late at night around St. Louis. I think I may have hurt myself slightly by holding it so long because I had some pain/bloating/urgency/other issues the next day too.

12. We learned another good lesson that night: call ahead to make room reservations because the town you decide to stop at will just so happen to be having homecoming that weekend and all of the rooms will be booked when you come rolling in at 2:30am. All blessing be to God that we found a room and - even though it was a smoking room at a flea-bag motel - it wasn't that bad for a few winks and several nighttime trips to the loo.

13. We got to repeat that lesson the next day when we ended up being forced to take the last room available in Lawrence thanks to a KU/OU game we didn't know about. Thankfully we got this room. Unfortunately it had a malfunctioning A/C (seemed to make the room hotter honestly), a non-functioning drain (until I showed off why I have a degree in engineering), and various other problems like exposed wiring (it was a HoJo and the room wasn't supposed to be let as they're remodeling right now). We survived.

14. The concert was amazing and it was much better with my best friend and my adopt-a-mom. We're not sure how we feel about John Mark McMillan (odd sound issues for his set where we were sitting 0n the third row left) and Chris August has talent - just not in songwriting (having worked youth ministry I can safely say he writes like a teenage boy). Gungor impressed all of us but even more impressive was his bass-playing, jaw-drop-inducing vocal percussionist named Kevin (who is currently on The Sing Off and you should vote for his group - note that I do not actually watch this show). Then the DC*B took the stage and what was up to that point a concert became a family worship session. I hadn't seen them live since before Illuminate was out and it was hard to believe they could have improved on back then but it was a much blessed time. Again, it wasn't just the music, it was the atmosphere - the focus on God Most High. Yes it was great to hear that they'd come up with nine more bluegrass songs (that I think may be another EP before or after their final album by how they mentioned it), but it's the lyrical content of those songs that mattered, such as remaking the old hymn "Because He Lives."

15. After the concert we had meet and greet passes so we got to walk by, talk a little to the band, shake hands, and get our vinyls of Church Music signed (for those kids out there who think that vinyls are the protective covers that keep their mattresses dry, ask your parents what I'm actually talking about). The best part of this for me was that there was a hold up in the line behind me so I got to talk to David (possibly one of the friendliest men on the face of the earth, especially considering he had just played an amazing set and was probably tired) Crowder for an extended period of time and thank him for all of the years of encouraging tunes.

16. The next day we hit up the Kansas City Renn Faire on the way back. Pretty nifty and good times with my friends.

17. We finally rolled into Murray around 3am Monday. I got to have a great talk with my friend's mom - informative and encouraging. I had forgotten to mention above that I had broken up with my girlfriend during the past month as well - it hurt a bit but it needed to be done. This was some of what we talked about on that long ride home. I needed that and I am so thankful for her sage wisdom and strong Christian stance.

18. Yesterday, I took some lunch up to my friend's office and we ate together before I had to head home. It was great to get to see and talk to him in person one last time before leaving. It was also great to stuff our faces with sushi from our favorite place. Thanks again, man, for an awesome weekend!

19. I drove the long trek home bringing my TORT - time on road total - for those four days to approximately 28 hours while listening to Connie Willis' Doomsday Book (the first in her amazing time travel series).

There are surely several things I've left out of the above but they're all quite fuzzy now. Anyway, I'll leave you with the following that I wrote one night while grandma was still in the hospital. I was talking to a friend and it was relating to the subject of intimacy with God being intertwined with our knowledge of God and His Word. I felt a fire burning in my chest and this came out of the passion I had as I reflected on my King of kings and Lord of lords. This came in the midst of what seemed to be chaos - a reminder of to Whom I belong, the One to see me through it all.

We are so incredibly blessed to bear witness to a God who actually wants to have something to do with us! We have a Father, He sets a standard - an image of glory and righteousness and power for us to grow into - and doesn't expect anything less of us. We have a Brother, He both sets an example of that image and provides the means for us to go in that way by taking the eternal suffering that we've caused (in sins of commission but also in sins of omission), and thus deserve, upon Himself. He appeases that rightful wrath and makes things right between us and the Father once more so that the Spirit can come to us - so that what was sinful can live in the presence of a righteous God. We have a Spirit, He (not just 'it') prepares and leads our hearts and minds to grow in the image of the Father that was exemplified by the Son. He constantly points us to and allows us to learn about the Son who Himself points us to and allows us to learn about the Father (and He has given us to learn from the Spirit and the Son - to know Them and thus know Him). We have a God who wants to be known, not just by us but also in us - bringing out that image from what we've hidden it behind. They, which is He, has made all creation with a (glorious/beautiful/genius/these words are all falling short) ability to reflect aspects of, and thus point us back to, Him. And He has sought to make us chief of these reflectors - the full-length mirror - His image! He has done the impossible - taking what is broken and making it whole, taking what is warring and making it peace, taking what could never work, could never be useful, could never be and making it live! And as I think about this I realize that the God of the great paradoxes has made me one as well. As I am both empowered yet humbled, enlightened yet realizing my foolishness, encouraged yet aware of where I fall short. And all I can think is holy, holy, holy is YHWH, our God Almighty, Who was and is and is to come! Glory be unto the Father! Glory be unto the Son! Glory be unto the Spirit! Glory be unto the Three-in-One! He has revealed Himself that we might know Him and, in knowing Him, share with Him in His glory! He does not need us, existing in and of Himself in that glorious community of the Godhead. Yet He still chooses to create us, to struggle with us, to make a way for us, and to dwell with us forever. Truly He is great, and truly He is God!

I want to thank Him so much that, in these tough times, that's who He still is - His self-existence ensuring that He is not changed by our circumstance (what more He can be recognized in these times for that very reason). He is so good to us and it's His choice, not His obligation. Praise, praise, praise to the Thrice Holy King!

Jonah Prayer

Yet again I find myself helping out with a youth group despite my recent relocation (granted I grew up in this area). It's my lot in life and something I'm grateful for which God still sees me as being useful. Truth be told, it becomes a return blessing.

Our current series is on Jonah - one of my favorites in the minor prophets due to the number of questions with which he leaves me [1]. This past Sunday we went through Jonah 2, talking about the importance of prayer and the repentant/emergency type that Jonah brought to God. The youth pastor asked the other youth workers to write our own prayers to share, using Jonah's as a model, and passed this task to the kids as well [2].

I had been wracking my brain the past few days trying to get to a mental state where I could even think like second chapter Jonah. I typically mix a lot of song and Scripture in my prayers which causes most of my written prayer to come out in a poetic form. To get the juices flowing, I went to some songs I knew that I had used in my Jonah moments: Wedding Dress by Derek Webb, Second Chances by Needtobreathe, Mystery of Mercy by Andrew Peterson, Lesser Things and Jealous Kind by Jars of Clay, and Breath of God by Dicky Ochoa. These, mixed with a little Hosea (another of my favorites) and Jim Elliot's "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose" [3], and further added to a rough, mostly-sleepless night, brought me to that mindset I needed to break down and bare all. The following is the fruit of my self-induced heartache.

A Vomit-Soaked Prayer from the Beach

My God, my God, why have You accepted me?

Should not traitors die and thieves pay back sevenfold?

And what less have I stolen but time? Blessed time!

That for which the weak crave and infirm pine,

And thus have I squandered,

Whoring myself to lesser gods.

And time – time knowing no reverse –

Passes through me like flour a sieve.

Were You to count that which I have stolen

And require of me that sevenfold return,

That I could not repay less than the whole of me

And still find debt wanting.

I step from what is need to vain desire,

Trading time to waste and peace to fire,

And then I wait for more.

My God, my God, why have You accepted me?

Why call whore “bride” and runner “son”?

What use do You see to encourage Your pursuit?

Yet pursue You still, with unfeigned vigor,

That, when I tire of Your breath on my neck,

I must turn to feel it on my face.

You are the God who does not quit,

The Self-Existent with whom there is no ceasing.

For this I give what is not mine,

That which I would lose and cannot keep,

And receive what I cannot buy,

Cannot make, nor can I find.

This I snatch from You –

As if I thought it be taken back –

Life in death, grace in justice, freedom in chains.

My God, my God, why have You accepted me?

[1] Will he be in the Kingdom? Did he actually die (in sea or 'fish') and was brought back to life? Was he simply allotted his time and mission to make a point much like that in the parable of the prodigal son? etc.

[2] I have a sad feeling we may never see these from the kids (although I don't even know if any of the other youth leaders have written their Jonah prayers yet).

[3] Yes, I am aware that he was just (mis)quoting Philip Henry who said, "He is no fool who parts with what he cannot keep, when he is sure to be recompensed with what he cannot lose."

My Favorite 'Twilight' Involves No Prissy Vampires (Or, How Rod Serling Taught Me About Life)

Last weekend I discovered that Netflix has started to carry the entire original series of The Twilight Zone. I've loved the ethic dramas of Rod Serling and others for years. These stories have motivated my interests in stories and films of philosophical depth. These stories also have a heavy connection with my childhood. Because of this, I have been on a nostalgia kick while analyzing the roots of my psychological development.

I don't remember exactly when I first watched an episode, but I know I was around six- or seven-years-old. I would get up past bedtime to watch it and keep the set volume low so as to avoid confrontations with mom or dad. The stories Rod Serling presented would terrify and inspire me. Even as a child, I began to connect the terrors of the show with the realities of the world around me. I began to understand that the fears and desires of men - as well as their best intentions - could be their undoing or lead to great evil.

A few episodes still stick in my mind all of these years since.

A Nice Place to Visit taught me that Hell is getting everything you ever wanted, thus removing any sense of adventure - and any reason to live.

The Little People taught me to tread lightly in dealing with others as, although I may be above them, someone else is ultimately above me. This also gave me some hope when dealing with bullies in the many years to come. In addition, I learned never to think too highly of myself.

Nothing in the Dark taught me that I had nothing to fear from death as "What you feared would come like an explosion is like a whisper. What you thought was the end is the beginning."

The Obsolete Man taught me the value of ideas and of every individual. It taught me that even my death should be used to promote truth. As I grew older and watched it again, Romney Wordsworth's words further impressed on me the importance of actually knowing of God for myself. "You cannot erase God with an edict!" This may have inevitably triggered the Grand Search that led me to Christ.

It's a Good Life, that iconic episode, frightened me to no end. I learned that any power I may be equipped with should be used for the benefit of others and not to control them. The torment of Anthony's family and neighbors taught me that personal control of everything was not something to be desired, nor was the suffering of others just because they make you unhappy or hurt.

The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street (my favorite episode - the first I saw and often cited as the greatest episode of the series) taught me just how dangerous fear and ignorance could be amongst people. Fear leads to faulty conclusions and false knowledge. I remember identifying with the character of Tommy who, regrettably, provides the 'silly' concept that fuels the fear of the entire group and later has that fear directed toward him.

The Mark of a bibliophile

All of the rooms in my house contain books. Over-stuffed bookshelves adorn the walls of my living room, bedroom, and office. Books can even be found in my kitchen [1] and bathroom [2]. A quick search of my car will also turn up a book or two [3]. Additionally, my computer and laptop contain months of reading material with access to a plethora of further resources. I have a Kindle that is also heavily loaded with reading material.

Essentially, I am inundated with books.

Not only that, I am immersed in information. Especially when you consider that I prefer non-fiction [4] – essays, interpretations, guidance, references, memoirs, how-to books, philosophy, theology, etc. – my library is a veritable depository [5] of both esoteric and exoteric [6] thought. When mixed with my enjoyment of other forms of information, I may be considered a philosopher or gnosophile [7]. Either way you say it, had I been in the Garden of Eden, there may have been no fruit left on the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil for Adam and Eve. I would have converted it all into paper and ink for the sake of bringing books into the world.

My point is that I am a bibliophile [8]. I love reading and learning new things or rereading and spending time with an old friend. As Aunt Vivian (played by Ellen Greene) remarked of eating Ned’s (played by Lee Pace) pies in the show Pushing Daisies, “It’s like a sex addiction” [9]. I am fairly certain that books must do for me what sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll do for others – just without the nasty side effects that will ultimately consume them [10]. I must also admit that I am not monogamous when it comes to reading; I tend to have about eight or so going at the same time [11]. However, I do expect for me to be their one-and-only (I consider library books to be the harlots of the book world [12]), although I will pick up a widow from a flea market every so often and will let my friends spend some time with them occasionally.

I blame my dad. He is well known for picking up [13] large stacks of books from the public library and returning them within the same week only to replace them with a new pile. He got me into this love of reading by setting the example. I watched him read [14] countless novels [15] over the course of my life.

For me, books are a way to explore places I cannot go, to meet people who I will most likely never encounter, to toy with ideas that are not my own, to live lives that I was not born into, and to learn things that may or may not have any discernable value to my life other than the joy received from the knowledge of just how diverse creation has become [16].

I bring this up because of something I did today. I skipped lunch after church [17] so that I could afford a book at the local coffee-shop/bookstore [18]. It really is like a sex addiction, Vivian, it really is.

[1] I don’t just mean cookbooks. I sometimes read as I cook, wash dishes, or do laundry.

[2] I had a friend who poked fun at me for doing my quiet time (Christianese for prayer, Bible study, meditation, and generally spending time with God) on the can. I considered it to be a form of humble obeisance – approaching His throne from my own, if you will. My method was also a way to ensure that it happened at least once every day (take that as you will). Additionally, this was often the only time I had alone. He considered this to be ‘so weird’ that he could not conceive of doing this himself. I would like to point out that this individual would read Trivial Pursuit cards while doing his business. These were the same cards he would use when playing the game with family and friends. I win.

[3] I do not condone reading (or texting) while driving. I have a hard enough time taking a quick glance at my TomTom – thus why Yoda is my constant travel companion. Additionally, God inspired someone to create audio-books for a reason (probably to keep my girlfriend and me alive).

[4] I lump allegory in with non-fiction as long as the text has an intention akin to parable and not merely entertainment.

[5] Books are to depositories as suppositories are to butts.

[6] Exoteric is for the general public – simple, approachable, common. Esoteric is for a select few with special knowledge or interests – deep, difficult, personal.

[7] Lover of wisdom or lover of knowledge, respectively. Yes, Kyle, I had to make up the last one as I don’t want to call myself a Gnostic.

[8] Note my use of the lower-case ‘b’, indicating that I am a lover of books in general as opposed to just a Bibliophile – lover of the Bible, which I also consider myself.

[9] This show should not have been cancelled so early. A forensic fairy tale with an amazing cast, cerebral scripting, and beautiful art direction that warrants your purchase of both seasons on DVD.

[10] With the one exception of the financial depletion that also plagues bibliophiles.

[11] To my girlfriend: Do not worry, I will not do this with women. I cannot. You are far too interesting for me to have another. Besides which I could not buy more books if there were another woman, I can barely afford them now.

[12] I guess this makes librarians pimps. This thought makes me giggle.

[13] It even sounds like prostitution, doesn’t it?

[14] Okay, the reading = sex metaphor stops here. That just feels so wrong to say.

[15] Yes, he is a fan of lowly fiction, but I still love him. At least he reads smart fiction (Heinlein, Tolkien, Vonnegut, Greeley, etc.). I will admit that I like a slim picking of fiction as well, just not as much as dad.

[16] I also blame my excessive use of footnotes and links to references on my being a bibliophile.

[17] No, mom, I am not starving myself.

[18] The book is Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader by Anne Fadiman, a collection of essays I would recommend to anyone wanting to understand bibliophiles. She mentions that she didn’t consider herself fully married until after she and her husband merged their book collections – five years and one child after their wedding. Again, reading is intimate.

Understanding and Knowing

There is a vast difference between understanding something and knowing it. You may have noticed this. Think about the last funeral you attended (not the last funeral you will attend, hopefully, lest I need to Smite (Evil) a zombie blog reader).

If you were close to the dearly departed, then you probably had many near-strangers telling you that they 'know what you're going through' or 'know how you must be feeling.' Some of them just might know - they may have had a very similar experience. However, people typically mean that they understand that you have 'lost' (I hate that term*) someone to whom you were close and that they understand how they might feel or how people are expected to feel (given the culture and previous observations) in similar situations. Their understanding is based less on shared experience and more on a general idea of the experience. They 'know' but they don't know.

You may have also been that person who 'knows.' I have been on many occasions.

I remember when my childhood friend's dad passed away. I could imagine how I would feel in that situation but, sitting at the funeral (next to my dad), I realized that I could not know my friend's pain at that moment. I don't think I will ever know it. His relationship with his dad was different than the one my dad and I share. I can understand my friend but I cannot know him*. I 'know' but I don't know.

I also recall a time where something I only understood became something that I know. This is an experience that I have been hesitant to share but have felt impressed to do so for awhile (even before this blog began) as it starts with a fantastic question and leads to several more - especially for anyone who works with people, has loved ones, is living, etc.

It happened back in October of '09 (about 5-6 months ago). I had been working with the youth at my church's home site for awhile (since that July, although I have been working with the youth ministry at my church for much longer, I had also been involved in ministry elsewhere for a bit) and, as I was driving to church that night, I was talking to a friend of mine. He asked me an unexpected, thought-provoking, yadda yadda, question.

"If something were to happen where one of the youth would have to die - you can't take their place and you can't avoid it - who would you choose? And you have to choose."

I said that this question was thought-provoking. It is, but only when you think about it afterward and what your response means. It is when you analyze it.

The answer itself, however, may not require much thinking or deliberating time. It didn't for me. I knew who it was almost instantly.

The answer hurt.

I don't simply mean that I felt a little sad or guilty for choosing this individual. I know why I chose the individual; I know that I was correct in my choice.

The answer hurt because of all that made it correct.

I went through the entire gambit of painful emotions: hurt, sorrow, anger, worry, etc.

I wept heavily.

"Why ask me this?"

"Because I want you to think about it. Because you need to think about it."

Ouch.

"You know the answer."

"Yes, and I know you do too. But you've never thought about it and you need to."

"Why? What's going on?"

"First, tell me about it."

"Ugh. Okay, but first I'm going to tell why I DON'T want it to be this individual."

"I figured that's where you would start."

"This boy . . . there's just something different about him. He reminds me of why it's worth my time to make this 45 minute drive to this church twice a week. He's a reminder of the purpose given to this life I'm living.

"But there's more. He's, in some strange way, a reminder of who I am - something like a mirror in terms of personality and thought and emotion*.

"But even more. He's a reminder of the Promise. As much as I can see myself in him, I can see something greater forming and that reminds me that there is something greater forming in me.

"He's been a willing, but not selfish, receiver of my love overflow. I've poured more into him in this short time than I think I have gotten to for any person at any other point. I've poured more into him in every term: love-wise, time-wise, faith-wise, hope-wise, thought-wise, prayer-wise, etc. And he keeps receiving and it is so good to give.

"And even more. He's like a son* and I've been given a promise in him."

"And yet you chose this individual, why?"

"Because of all that I've just said. Because of what I've sown. Because, from all that, I can be certain that he is the right choice. Because I now know I would not be taking his life from him. He would give it."

"But you've said that you've been given a promise in him."

"That's right. And You made the promise. And I know You won't break it. So even if he dies, I'll have him back."

For those readers who have yet to figure this out: My friend in this conversation is God and, if you've never gotten into a conversation with Him like this (personal/informal), you should really try it*. This may also help you to better understand why I said "Why? What's going on?" I was concerned that this was a warning or preparation for something else.

"So why did you want me to think about this?"

"Because of the fact that until you thought about it, you didn't know it. You had to go through it first. The concept existed without you being aware and, by being made aware, you can actually enjoy its fruit."

"So what is this fruit?"

"Think to what you have understood but haven't known until now. What was this question like?"

And then it hit me.

Father Abraham has many sons and many sons have father Abraham but it all started with one son in whom he was given a promise.

We see that promise back in Genesis 15:5-6: "He brought him outside and said, ‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then he said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’ And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness." (NRSV)

Now, I have understood Genesis 22:1-19 for awhile. Abraham is willing to sacrifice the son he loves (referred to as his 'only son' three times; the 'only son' of the promise; the 'only son' of his faith) because of a command. I understood Hebrews 11:17-19 where it says, "By faith Abraham, when put to the test, offered up Isaac. He who had received the promises was ready to offer up his only son, of whom he had been told, ‘It is through Isaac that descendants shall be named after you.’ He considered the fact that God is able even to raise someone from the dead—and figuratively speaking, he did receive him back." (NRSV)

I understood these in a completely detached sense - I didn't know them until God asked me that question and made me face that situation.

The fruit is that I now know what Abraham knew. The fruit is that I have had my faith confirmed. The fruit is that I now know the answer to that question God asked me. The fruit is that I'm sowing into something that IS bearing fruit. The fruit is that I now have a better grasp of what He did for my sake.

God asks the best questions.

*-And now I have an idea for a future post.