Not So Jaded

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I am not looking for love.

That might sound a bit odd to some of you. How many different posts and articles out there are giving tips on “finding love”?

I stopped looking for love when I realized how absolutely silly that is. I don’t need to find love because I already have love. Or, more accurately, love already has me. It’s the very fabric that holds together my being. I cannot function without it. I would fall apart without it. It is the very substance that I breathe. The image in Whom I was made. It’s just . . . there.  Kinda like that dog in “Up” that just won’t go away. He keeps following Carl around no matter how many times he is rejected. That’s a tiny glimpse of what love looks like. Tiny glimpse, mind you. Tiny! Tiny! Tiny!

Now . . . I am looking for love.

????

Actually, I habitually enjoy looking around and appreciating what I have been blessed with. So, yeah, I look around to see what I already have. Sometimes, I look around for the air. Sometimes, I look at my toes and think, “Nice! I have toes.” I love to go on treasure hunts because I always expect to find a treasure. It’s just out there, waiting for me. Set up for me to find.

Now, as the argument goes, “You just don’t live in the ‘real’ world.” I am sure that anyone with that argument has sources and experiences ready to be quoted. They may do so to their hearts’ content, and when they are done feeling tired and weary and depressed and weighed down by the worries of the world, perhaps they will come and consider Someone different.

I did not mistype.

That word-choice was quite intentional. Capitalization and all. I said “Someone” instead of “something.” Truth, for me, is not merely a list of facts and figures subjectively manipulated to support whatever is morbidly trendy. Truth is a Person. “Truth is Life is Love is Jesus Christ in relationship in the Trinity.”

And if you can say that five times fast, I salute you!

I really, really like being alive. It’s awesome. The thing about seeing the Christ everywhere is that it’s like perpetually being surrounded by a hug. You can have a miserable day, but in the end, you are held in the arms of love! The misery fades, but the love lasts—because love is faithful, and misery is such a cheater!

I define “love” or rather “Love” by Jesus Christ (and—for that matter—the whole Trinity) because I can’t find a better definition out there. Everything else just seems selfish and sad in comparison.

I say that knowing that people have all sorts of ideas as to who Jesus Christ and the whole rest of the Trinity is/are. (LOL, language limitations!!!) I say that knowing it’s not always the best communicated, and people get confused about it all the time. It just can’t stop me from falling head-over-heels and stumbling around like a really, really happy drunk.

Feel free to message me if you would like to taste the Source of the Bliss.

Until Next Time,

The Joy Detective

Tell the Truth

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I have a bible verse that has become a personal favorite of mine over the past year. It comes from Ephesians 5:11. It reads “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them” (NIV).

This has become a very personal thing for me.

I have watched havoc be wreaked on the lives of people I know—including myself—because they were afraid to tell the truth. And there are always a myriad of reasons to conceal something. There’s always a rationale. Maybe you’re trying to protect someone. Maybe you want to avoid hurting someone. Maybe it’s self-interested. You think your entire world will shatter if you open your mouth. You don’t want that change.

It’s way too scary.

But scary has gotten to a point where it’s sick of living with me now, and I have realized that scary doesn’t really have much to do with who I am. Sure, I feel fear every so often. But that’s like a radar picking up on crap in the surrounding environment. That doesn’t have a fudge to do with who I am.

“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.”

Ever think about the wording of that verse? I know if you grew up hearing it in Sunday School, it’s a bit easy to just brush under the rug. Oh, I know that one. I have heard it a million times! But if you think like that, chance are, you miss the humor. (The Bible, by the way, is a very funny book!)

Think about it. “Fruitless deeds of darkness.” The deeds of darkness have no fruit. It’s a bit hard for death to leave a legacy, actually; everyone committed to it turns to dust! It’s bound to fail.

And then life inevitably plants seeds in the dust of death and makes a frickin’ garden out of the whole thing. There’s irony for you!

So, telling the truth is something to do because it’s a whole lot more fun. There’s a bit more party involved in telling the truth. A bit more dancing involved at a light-show. And, oh, look! Read it in context, and Truth is Love is Life is the Way is God. Time for some happy-dancing. Go tell the Truth.

 

Mr. Truth and the Con-Man

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Every so often, I run into some pitiful, depressing sort of message, article, and/or piece information that claims “I am Reality; I am Truth.”

I like to laugh at such things.

Why?

Because I find the underlying logic required to believe them preposterous.

Have you ever met a con man? Somebody pretending to be someone or something that they are not? Bold. Fresh. Confident. They must be who they are because they claim to be who they are. Why question them? After all, they are confident. 

Now, suppose one of them walks right in the door. He’s got the strut. He’s got the swag. And he says, “Hello. My name is Mr. Truth. Care for a dance?”

He bats those long eyelashes at you. 

Suppose you believe him. Now, from this point on, everything he says or does—everything you notice or observe—about him will register and be identified with “Mr. Truth.”

Now, suppose he’s a rather wicked man. He rapes you, steals your wallet, slanders your best friend, blows up an elementary school, deliberately starts World War III,  and . . . well, you get my drift. 

What’s your grid for “Truth” going to be?

If you continue to believe that he is who he said he is, then you will come to some rather nasty conclusions about Truth.

But did you ever stop to ask yourself: is he really “Mr. Truth?” Does he even legitimately own that name? Because you see, if he was actually not Mr. Truth, then all of those ways he acted, all of those ways he treated you, all that information you gathered “Truth” were not actually legitimate expressions of Truth. And if he is not Mr. Truth—-but in fact a con man—then who shall we call him? What should his proper name be? Hmm?

Perhaps we should call him “Mr. Lie.”

I don’t believe that Mr. Truth has the character attributes that the above-mentioned hypothetical man does. I believe that Mr. Truth is a rather noble person. A good person. A kind, compassionate, loving person. Someone I can trust. Really trust. 

Now, I have challenge for you: Go back through this little blog post, and replace “Mr. Truth” with “God.”

Questions

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I like asking questions.

How else am I to learn anything?

When I know something, I know it. When I don’t know something, I don’t know it. There’s never any shame in that.

I used to think that God would get mad at me if I asked too many or the wrong kind. After all, according to many human beings, there are certain questions that can get you into trouble, and there are certain things better to blindly accept rather than risk being turned into human bacon in the fires of hell. Or risk being ostracized by the people who believe that God would turn someone into human bacon in the fires of hell for not blindly accepting those things.

Take a step back for just a minute and look at what’s going on here. 

Does it not seem circular to you?

If you want to know my personal opinion: believing in a god like that—one who would condemn the questioner, the truth seeker—seems more like hell to me than the human bacon option. At least the human bacon gets to be honest and is not obligated to violate his or her conscience.

I just don’t believe that God is that kind of cranky. I mean, are we talking about the same God? The One who made kangaroos and giraffes and the platypus? The same God who made and was besties with King David? King David—you know, the guy with all the vents and songs and stuff in the middle of the Bible. If King David were here today, would he get labeled a heretic by so-called God-believers for asking the questions that he did?

Okay, so maybe I have a hard time believing in a hateful God because—among other things—He supernaturally healed me of a cold, put sparkles of out nowhere on my hands more than one time, and just keeps doing sweet things for me each and every day just like we’re some cute old married couple.

So . . . when all this hate stuff gets attributed to my bestie, I feel a little sad. And puzzled. 

I ask God questions all the time. I want to get to know Him. He’s just so . . . good, and I keep getting to uncover more layers of His goodness. And I feel like a God like that is worthy of honesty, you know?

He’s worthy of being sought by honest seekers.

So, here’s my challenge, folks: don’t be afraid to ask questions. Honest questions.

And starting expecting a response.