Living the spiritual life involves living in, being awash in paradoxes. The absurd idea that God’s thinking is remotely like our own is challenged again and again in this learning to walk in the Spirit. I feel there were less of my nights disturbed by the devil than by Father’s voice saying directly or plotting me along, bread crumb by bread crumb, “My ways are not your ways. My thoughts are not your thoughts.” The devil gets much too much credit for that which is meant to be a glorious work in us.
“Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” Most of us came to the point of believing this gracious absurdity and we witnessed a transformation not of our head but primarily of the heart if, we heard it right. Condemnation remains if we didn’t reason with the right voice. Plotting along backwards in time to eternity (that does not make for good logic as we know it), I love the audacity of King David’s thoughts and answer to the question, “Who set this life in motion before the great darkness came and almost spoiled the plot line?”:
Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.
A God of love did this before our fathers and mothers mouthed the word’s “It’s a girl!” or “It’s a boy!” We have no idea how He has already loved us from the beginning with an everlasting love. This kind of paradox we live marks us as the Spirit Dream team, it’s become part of the lens we see the hungry, the abused, broken and the just plain curious. Al is standing before me. Looming is a better way to put it. Al's about seven feet tall. A blond and scruffy Scandinavian(?). We love Al, he’s from a camp that has adopted us in a way. Al has passion, anger and a heart bigger than most can absorb. He uses the “F” word the way Canadians say “sorry.” Helping us with the dome building last year, he said boldly, ”I wouldn't come to this #*!*&? Burning Man except for Spirit Dream!” Al has met with one of our encounter teams. They informed me he was ready to forgive his father and here I am with a dead serious man towering over me, standing in. Looking up into those fierce eyes, I am the father intimidated. The “I forgive you for’s” go on for some time. It’s litany of horrible. My heart gets high centered on the part that goes, "I forgive you for breaking my younger sister’s hands in anger…” We get through it ok. Al assures me he loves me. Al’s still trying to grasp God. My love has to bear this pain for a moment. Afterword, I sit down in a lonely corner to give all this to Jesus.
I get to do a lot of Father Blessings. I have to pull from a deeper place than usual. The heat has zapped us, hampering our set up time on Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Maybe 115 degrees average. Our team is in and out of the cooling RV between the arduous work of erecting a dome, military tent and sunshade. Katie is played out with heat exhaustion and after two trips to the medical center, I ride with her to the gate on Wednesday morning and she eventually gets home. I bless the network of friends who helped preserve her life by helping the process. I’ve been worried about her most of the week. Father has been trying to assure me He knows the days formed for Katie. Eventually, I get to refocus on why I’m here with all these broken people.
Our Father moves toward the broken. Those who through pain, lies and choices, have moved away from the vision He had from the beginning. We hold to David’s words, Isaiah’s and Jesus too. Eternity is there and our team finds it in hearts - raw, unfiltered. It’s like honey if you see it in the right light. I hold a fifty something man in my arms. He’s suffered loss of a friend. A family is left behind and he carries much grief. In turn, the traumas add up to a tipping point, and this older gentleman openly says he’s thinking on exploring the gay lifestyle. The encounter team had plotted him back to Jesus. As I engage him in a blessing, I lead him through the stages of life from pre-conception to present, I bless and affirm love. He’s wailing loudly from the first couple of sentences and the calm doesn’t settle until after puberty. I hear an absurd word. “Speak the love of God down to his DNA (something I usually do) but pronounce the power of love untangling of pieces of it and a separation of that which was meant to be separated from the foundations by a loving Creator.” I did. Wings and Peaceful who worked with him commented he looked very different as he left to rest in the back of the tent.
We are looking very different too. Love never moves in a singular direction.
There’s too much to say here. Our mornings were celebrated in communion rites and visitations and worship understood only in the way we imagine having dinner in the presence of raging demonic forces. The outside atmosphere was filled with an amped up melange of discordant sounds that seemed to culminate around the central figure of the Burning Man. Our warfare was in opposite Spirit. We cooperated in a wide variety of creative ways to release dance, banners, sounds of drum and singing. Some Burners said we were Methodists. Maybe we confirmed this or baffled the community after drumming with a main course of “Oh Come Oh Ye Faithful” following. God directed the shifting of atmosphere. We saw no fear but experienced abundance.
I saw foundations crumbling. I saw smaller ones daily being restored. Paradox.
Our deepest thanks for praying for us all.
Love,
Rob & Katie
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