Can I go lower?

Can anyone find me

in this bottomless pit?

Are you even here?

I don’t need your help.

I don’t need anything good

to happen.

My only prayer is this:

Please

don’t let anything else bad

happen to me and my kids.

"[28] You yourselves know how plainly I told you, ‘I am not the Messiah. I am only here to prepare the way for him.’

[30] He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less (John 3:28, 30 NLT)."

I love how John the Baptist didn't seek glory for himself, but wanted people to run to the glory of God instead. John had no qualms about people going to Jesus to be baptized over him (despite his namesake), and John was "filled with joy at his (Jesus') success (John 3:29)." This is an attitude I want to incorporate into my own life. Should any success I have inspire someone, I want people to know that it is all thanks to the blessings and gifts God has put in my life. I want to want Him to get the glory, and I want to want eyes to go on God and not me. This is easier said than done, as getting attention for the things I do well in is certainly addictive and makes me feel good, but I don't want this to be my prime motivation for using the talents and abilities God has empowered me with.

Lord, thank You for once again giving me something to ponder and work on due to journaling about Scripture. Please forgive me for the times I get prideful when I succeed thanks to the gifts that You have given me. Please help me to be better about pointing to You in these accomplished moments, and may people flock to You over me as a result. Please help me to desire this and work on it. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

Jesus, can You hear me? Give me answers as I pray.

This life has been dreary, it's getting worse by the day.

I've missed the point clearly, the world has made me it's prey.

Ready to leave, nearly, don't see a reason to stay.

God, are You listening? I'm still waiting for Your word.

This worlds done glistening, only evil is what lurks.

I find it sickening, why can't You just stop the hurt?

But I'll keep believing, even if my fate is cursed.

Lord, why won't You answer? You know I truly need You.

This world fuels the cancer, it eats away, turns me blue.

Satan hangs his banner, he took Earth from You, it's true.

Silent is Your manner, why? Don't You know this is Your cue.

Spirit, are You still here? My prayers still remain ignored.

You have left, I now fear, You have truly locked Your door.

The end is coming near! Wait, hold on, is that You, Lord?

Is that Your voice I hear? Your tone melts my angered core.

Father, take my prayer, after all this restless time.

Hope again, I now dare, this is finally Your sign.

I don't feel Satan's stare, the stars finally aligned.

I now know You are there, and I know, Lord, You're divine.

Does God get sad when I say I just can't love me?

Does God get mad when I give up my own being?

Am I not forsaken when I forsake myself?

Am I failing Him when I hurt my mental health?

God, won't You tell me someday, please?

Why can't these awful demons leave?

Filling my head with all these doubts,

Jesus, this is my final shout.

God, if not now, then in the end,

Tell me why Your Son would descend

For someone so flawed, such as me.

He saved my soul? Sounds like a dream.

Beyond my wildest, it sounds so childish.

Childish to believe, I guess I'm just naive.

I'm feeling so alone, insecure to my bones.

Getting close to Your gates, this really is my fate.

They say we were made in God's perfect image.

Does nobody else worry in this village

That we're pulled out of that image by Satan?

Or maybe it's too much, these expectations.

These basic Christians want me okay 'cause,

"If you can't love you, remember God does,"

They really all think that this is the cure,

But even with this, I stay insecure.

But even with this, my world is obscure.

'Cause, even in the back of their faith lined minds,

I can't seem to comprehend how they don't find,

God made all of us in the same perfect mold.

Makes me feel that same feeling of doubt tenfold.

Does He get sad when I cry all alone?

Or does His Expression remain like stone?

Will He carry my broken soul upstairs

When Satan kills me, as I feel Death's glare?

When this world ends me, with dagger-filled stares?

I gotta hope, and I gotta pray.

Awaiting Your heaven every day.

Yelling to the sky, infinity.

Talking to You, my holy trinity.

"[11] My child, don’t reject the Lord’s discipline, and don’t be upset when he corrects you. [12] For the Lord corrects those he loves, just as a father corrects a child in whom he delights (Proverbs 3:11-12 NLT)."

Just like any other human would feel, being told what you're doing could be better, and/or being corrected when you've made a poor choice isn't an easy thing to accept. Yet, being able to accept that we don't have all the answers and can always do better, and that we sometimes have to get redirected from the wrong paths are both an invaluable life skills. As a Pre-K teacher, I not only need to be open to ways I can improve my teaching, but it is my calling to show my students a better way if they are making harmful choices, and I need to continue to work on delivering this information in a loving, supportive way. And through my passion and other calling of acting, it is imperative to be coachable when feedback is provided on how I can improve my performances, and I need to acknowledge that the feedback I am receiving is being given by someone that also wants the show we are performing for our guests to be the best it can be. And as a father, it is extremely important to give loving discipline to my children, and accept the discipline for myself when I fall short in the parenting department.

Lord, I confess that although I am a huge fan of growing and improving in the things I do, I can also grow and improve at not only accepting discipline and feedback, but also giving it in a loving way. As I navigate a challenging school year, I especially appreciate You reminding me the importance of giving and receiving loving discipline in my classroom and beyond. Please help me to not only continue to take this to heart, but to keep growing in not only receiving and implementing loving discipline and feedback, but giving it in loving and caring ways. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

We all reached over to help Jesus into the boat, just as a large wave rocked the vessel.

“Please, Jesus,” Judas pleaded.

The wind calmed.

“Oh you of little faith,” Jesus said.

“Who me?” Judas asked. Jesus didn’t answer. “However did you do that, Master?” Judas asked. “That walking on water.”

“It’s easy, Judas,” Jesus explained.

“How so, Lord?” Judas asked suspiciously. He was calm but still shot a nervous glance here and there for waves.

“Anyone can do it. Even you. It just takes practice. Rocky almost had it.”

“Probably a lot of practice,” said Andrew.

“That is so, Andrew. But if you try it over and over, a thousand and another thousand times, you will do it.”

“A thousand and another thousand?” Andrew asked hopelessly.

“No, really?” exclaimed Judas. “I gotta try this.”

Judas was always so envious of Jesus—wanting to wield his powers to “do things right.” But his envy didn’t wish for the power to teach; or the power to cure; or the power to love; and certainly not the power to forgive.

A Zealot, he was always wishing he could have Jesus-like powers to bring down the Romans. By force—heavenly force.

He was too poisoned in his ambition to bring down the Roman world to realize that heavenly force was an oxymoron. And I think he definitely was cheering for the bad angels in the fight, wanting a piece of the adoration pie himself. And now here was Jesus telling him how to do something that the rest of the world thinks only a Messiah can do, so Judas is on it like stink on shit.

He takes a step overboard, and for just a moment it looks like he may have the knack—but just for a split second, because he immediately starts to wobble, and guess what? That’s right.

“Man overboard!” shouted James.

“No shit, Socrates,” I said. Jesus just stood in the boat, unconcerned.

“Uh, Lord,” stammered Rocky, “Judas can’t swim.”

“Yea,” said Andrew, “shouldn’t we fetch him out really quick?”

“Nah,” answered Jesus, “let him stay down another minute. Consider it his baptism.” We sat impatiently until we couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lord, please!” James shouted. “Save him.”

“He’s already saved,” Jesus said, “if he’s been baptized. If he's renounced Satan and his pomps.” Another moment passed. “What’s the worse thing that can happen?” asked Jesus. “What? He could drown? He could die? And then I’d bring him back to life?”

“Maybe,” I added, “but not without debate. It’d be unpleasant.”

“That he died? Or that he’d come back to life?” asked Rocky innocently.

Jesus, as usual, had a point. How bad could it get with Jesus around? He knew cardiopulmonary resuscitation millennia before EMS. He was cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

“OK, fellas,” Jesus signaled. “Now.”

We hurriedly reached for the spot in the water with oars. We jabbed where the bubbles were, and I can tell you they all weren’t bubbles from his mouth and nose. We worked hard to bring him aboard. Judas grabbed back. Finally, when we had him back on board, we thought that that little episode was over, but then he threw up all over the damn boat.

“Satisfied, Jesus?” I barked. “Now who’s going to clean that up?” When Judas finished all of his coughing and hacking, he got a few words out with the greatest of difficulty.

“I’ll get you for this, Jesus,” he sputtered.

“Gotcha,” Jesus said back, then slumped up against the inside of the boat and puffed up some netting for him to lay his head and was soon asleep.

“Was that just mean, or was that symbolic of some complex theological point?” asked James.

“Mean,” coughed Judas.

“Mean…sort of, I guess,” said Andrew.

“So, Judas, why’d you step out of the boat if you can’t swim?” I asked.

“Let’s just say,” Judas said, “I had faith. More faith than the bunch of ya.”

"A fisherman who can't swim!" scoffed James.

“No, it was all symbolic,” disagreed Rocky, “but I don’t get it.”

“I think it was symbolic of you being a big jerk,” I told Judas. “You can’t just let Jesus be Jesus, doing Jesus things. No, you gotta horn in.”

“Shut up,” scowled Judas. “I might have known you’d take up for Jesus.”

“You obviously don’t like him. Why don’t you quit the club? Why do you keep hanging around him? Why do you keep follow him? Especially into the water? Ass.”

“For the chicks,” answered Judas. Such a Judas thing to say.

Judas didn’t mean that, of course. Not all the way, anyway. He was an unsightly man such that even Jesus couldn’t help him in that department. And he had that gimp right hand. And he had bad breath, too. Hell, I think the only thing holding in the teeth he still had was plaque.

It continued to be a bad boat ride for Judas. As soon as Jesus nodded off, the wind picked up again, as if it was his consciousness which held it at bay. Judas had already been through a lot and wasn’t ready to confront his fears again. The man was shaking from cold and from fear. When the boat began to rock such that we had to grab each other to steady ourselves, Judas leaned over Jesus.

“Master,” he whispered in a panicky tone, “wake up! The waves are rising again.” True to the report, a large waved slapped the boat. “Master!” Judas shouted. “You sleep while we drown. The rest of us can’t just walk away like you. How can you sleep?”

“Sleep,” Jesus muttered with one eye open, the other undecided, “is a gift from God.”

“Master, please,” Judas continued.

Jesus rose begrudgingly and the winds fell. He shot us all a look; he was aggravated. He stepped over the side of the boat, and skipped away on the waves. Judas cursed him, so we all started kicking him. He kicked back ineffectively with his own nasty feet.

One time I asked the Magdaline if she had ever washed Judas’ feet.

“Oh,” she said, “I think I get around to most everybody’s feet in time.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?” she asked.

“Is he a regular guy? You know, does he like women?”

“No, I can’t say that he does.”

“I knew it!” I exclaimed.

“Actually, it’s not like that,” she was quick to explain. “He doesn’t like anybody.”

“Oh.”

So he really wasn’t hanging out for the chicks. No, he was hanging around for a bigger payoff. He really did have faith. He had faith that the new world order was coming with Israel as the new boss. He had faith that the legions of angels would come down and kick Roman ass and take names, and he'd be there to supervise. He had faith that when that happened he’d be on the second to highest tier in the pyramid with the rest of the Apostles. He had faith that one day he’d be a Jew with a Mercedes-Benz, and although that’s a German car, that wouldn’t matter.

Judas is always portrayed as this sympathetic character. “Someone had to turn him in,” I keep hearing. Or, “Jesus knew he would do it, so why did he pick him as an Apostle if he knew it?”

Or even, “Judas is the unlikely hero of the Jesus saga.”

That’s all a big history revisionist pile of crap.

All of us had our unsavory sides. We were all uneducated, illiterate drifter losers and reprobates. Rocky denied Jesus, Thomas doubted him, and Mary Magdalene wouldn’t even smile for him.

But Judas turned him in.

Look, Jesus was heading that way anyway. Annas and Caiaphas were gunning for him; Herod was gunning for him; half the Sanhedrin were just waiting to nab 'im. The course was set. This tide that was the future was out, but it was about to roll back in with a vengeance. Jesus didn’t need Judas—the tsunami was coming with or without him. Judas didn’t change anything. Just got it going a day or two sooner.

Because of Judas, it’s Easter Sunday, not Easter Monday, that’s all, although many places make a 3-day weekend out of it anyway.

So Judas in no way had to turn him in, as turning Jesus in at all was so unnecessary.

But Judas made that choice.

Andrew Lloyd Weber can sing his Jesus Christ Superstar songs about poor old Judas and good ol’ Judas, but if Andrew Lloyd Weber ever had to hang on a cross for even a minute, he’d never forgive the likes of that piece of shit. Did I mention that crucifixion is on my list of things I never want to happen to me? Or going overboard like Judas the Zealot was gonna?

Shhh.. Are you listening?

Silence the world around you

Do you hear my voice?

I am here to guide you

That ringing in your ear

Why do you fear?

The world has taught you not to hear

You’ll soon figure out I’ve been there all along

S. L. Cline

Mentation and Perception of Sorts

"[3] For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to sound and wholesome teaching. They will follow their own desires and will look for teachers who will tell them whatever their itching ears want to hear (2 Timothy 4:3 NLT)."

We never want to be wrong about things, and the icing on the cake would be finding someone that not only tells you that you're right, but also tells you that it is ok to keep on doing whatever it is that you want to do. If you're honoring God by following Him and serving others, then this kind of teaching could very well be fine. However, if the teaching you are seeking is encouraging poor habits and keeping you from making necessary changes, then the teaching will drain you and keep you in a place that you may justify as feeling good, but is actually harmful to not only you, but to those that are in your life.

Lord, thank You for no shortage of good teaching out there, especially from those You have called to instruct. Please help me to seek and continue to learn from teachers that help me to grow in my relationship with You, teachers that show me how to honor You, teachers whom help me to be of better service to others, and teachers whom encourage me to move away from negative practices that I need the reminder to reject. Please help me to also teach my upcoming new class of students in a way that reflects You, is encouraging in the right way, and helps those in my care to grow in only the best way possible. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

‭"[2] Devote yourselves to prayer with an alert mind and a thankful heart (Colossians 4:2 NLT‬)."

I have become really good at keeping up with two short devotionals each morning (reading them in their respective apps, then listening to them in podcast format), but getting into a prayer routine has been something that I have continued to struggle with. I heard Brant Hansen recently question on his podcast how we would react if we no longer had access to speaking to God through prayer, and he remarked that having the access to be able to talk to God anytime through prayer is something that we should not pass up. This is definitely an area I want to grow in, and Paul's call to approach prayer with "an alert mind and a thankful heart" is definitely good advice I can appreciate and get behind. Finding some undistracted alone time for prayer would certainly help with raising focus, and approaching this time with an emphasis on gratitude seems like it would help me to not only speak to Him with an appreciative tone, but would also help me in my own reflections on all the blessings and wonderful things He has put in my life.

Thank You Lord for continuing to be there for me and for loving me, even with my struggles in connecting with You more often in prayer. You have reminded me of the benefits of taking You up on dedicating time to bond with You over prayer, and I am feeling inspired to work on this once again. Please help me to improve in consistent prayer, and please help me to do this not to attempt to gain favor (You already did that with the cross), but please help me to do this in order to grow closer to You. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

the winding spiral of nicotine tasted remarkable

until the next morning when i swore it off forever

the smell of beer on his lips was intoxicating

though i have never really enjoyed any strong drink

the warmth of the burn felt like all time was standing still

only hours later i would hate the textiles it touched for their coldness

i swam in ponds of water so soft and fertile i felt refreshed by them

only later to not be able to scrub hard enough to remove it from my skin

i loved

and yet i hate that i did

in my youth i preferred walking the dirt roads barefoot

i would break up with this desire the second i slipped into new socks

the relationship continues this way

never a child

forever childlike

i spin in circles of cruel and etherial unsustainable joy

a power source with no energy

i drink from the stone cup of my fathers

honey, that drinks like silk, and poisons me

deep breaths find me in all emotional voids and fill me

and also at summits of the best moments in life- to remind me

i am

and nothing is more powerful than turbulent contradictions

grounded to contrition

anchored in blood

drowning in air when water sets me free

i will die

for

i am

at any opportunity

R1.9-15