We were at the carnival and there were a variety of rides to choose from.
You saw the roller coaster and your eyes sparkled. Oh how you wanted to ride the roller coaster! "Daddy, look at that roller coaster! I want to ride it!"
This was a moment I've looked forward to for years. This was our first carnival, and your first roller coaster.
You have always been fearless. You have always loved shoulder rides. Since you were one year old as I've held your feet you have loved letting go of my neck and flinging yourself backward, landing your upper body on my back.
I've lost track of the number of times we've done this, all I remember is each time we've done it through the years you squeal with delight. It's one of the favorite things we do, and oh how you love to do it with Daddy.
So, I've always known when you came of age you would love roller coasters. And here we were...our first carnival and a roller coaster just your size.
You ran over to it, and the line could not pass quickly enough. It clearly was an attraction in the truest sense. The bright colors of green, purple and yellow. The dragon head towering above the cars, the life-like scales staring at you straight in the face as you climbed in, the drone of carnival music and spikes of human laughter in the background.
Euphoric, wasn't it?
There were four of you who were going to ride. Two sisters, you and another youngster. The two sisters sat together in the front car, and they paired you and the black-haired boy a couple of seats behind.
We do so much together, hand in hand, side by side--but this was something designed and sized for you. I stood off to the side to watch. I was still there, still with you, but not right by your side.
I was so glad for you. The gleam in your eye before the ride began said it all. Was this not great, or what?
The operator made all their checks and preparations, and the ride began. Your back turned from view as you went into the first turn. The ride was not very big, so I saw you again as you came out of the turn onto the backstretch.
And that is when I saw it.
I saw your face, and the smile was gone.
Instead of glee was a look of pure anxiety and worry. The ride was much different than it appeared. It was much bumpier and much much swifter than it had given notice of.
I winced when I saw this. I knew there was no true danger. I knew you'd be okay, but you didn't. And when you're unsettled that unsettles Daddy. Our hearts are meshed together like that. What goes on in either of us goes on in the other.
The ride and the music were very loud, and you were now on the opposite side of the track from where I stood near the entrance gate. You were scared, and all Daddy's energies were centered around calming your fears. I took a deep breath, so that you could hear me above all the noise around you that you'd be okay.
It is just like a shepherd who taps his sheep with his staff to let them know he is there. I wished to verbally nudge you to let you know I was there, that it was okay. I knew that the noise and jolting and fear were seizing you, and it would take a mighty shout for you to hear me above the roar. But I was going to try anyway. You needed to hear Daddy's voice amidst it all.
I realized the breath I'd drawn on the spare of the moment was short, so I drew longer for a deeper breath and that louder shout which would be needed, but then I paused.
As you'd come into view, with the fear and nervousness all over your face, something happened. You were looking straight ahead, frozen by what was going on. But then somehow you were able to turn your head and look around.
And that is when you saw the peer next to you. Your fellow rider on the adventure was different. He was joyous, excited and thrilled. There was no fear in him whatsoever. His grin was unwipeable.
I saw your face the whole time; before, during and after. When you first looked at him you were scared, then you became puzzled. The ride was scary, seizing, perilous. In that flash of a moment you thought "how can this be? This is the ride from hell! We have been hoodwinked. They made us believe it was enjoyable and fun, but it's terrifying. How can you be...?" You kept looking at him for a second longer and his expression never changed. Still the unremovable grin, still the enjoyment.
Then your expression changed, again. You had gone from fear to bewilderment...now to maybe.
Maybe it was okay. Maybe you wouldn't die. You were still kind of unsure, but maybe...
Then you smiled, sort of. It was a very nervous smile. You were testing the waters of maybe. You looked at your comrade and he was still as invigorated as he'd been from the word go. And then, finally, after all these things (which took but two or three seconds to transpire though I've described them in detail), you knew it was okay, and you let yourself go.
The nervous smile lost the nervousness, and the roller coaster became adventuresome instead of a monster of terror.
This all taking place in those brief seconds conveys so much of what I hope you come to know.
As we live, life is messaged to us a certain way. All we're told about is fun, and the messaging never changes from young to old. To you it's ice cream and cartoons and bounce houses and Disney and such. To me it's things like possessions and status and romance and control and such. Young or old these things have bright colors and allure, and we go for them. And that's okay, laughter and enjoyment in life are good, I'm just saying the marketing and portrayal are lopsided.
All the messages of society are about mountain tops and great experiences and fulfillment and best-ever and living in the clouds and faster/better. It's portrayed to be nothing but sheer bliss and frolic and a party, 24/7.
And life is this way sometimes. There are great experiences and mountain tops and parties and spring flowers. And these things are good. But they're not 24/7, not every day. They're only a part. And during some seasons they don't exist, and aren't supposed to.
But society will never tell you this. They'll tell you you should rightly expect spring flowers every day of your life, even in winter. You're entitled to bliss, they say. Why, even the country you live in entitles you to happiness! The original document of this country actually says citizens here have a right to "the pursuit of happiness", but society today says you're entitled to it, not the pursuit of it.
So...all these messages, all this marketing, are like being on the roller coaster before it begins to move. You're not told about everything. You're just told about the fun side. Society doesn't tell you about the jolts and the bumps and the shakings and the jarrings of life.
But you know better. At five years old you've had no shortage of jolts and jarrings already. You've already been cut. You already bleed. You already know there's more than just bliss and fun in this place. And so you're way ahead of the message society and some people are feeding you. Though it hurts me each time you bleed, I'm glad you're seeing all aspects of the ride, and not just looking at the glitz and enchantment of what they're telling you. This makes you less susceptible to their snake oil.
So yeah, the roller coaster of your life has begun to move already, and it's not all it's cracked up to be. You already know the apprehension and fear which can arise. Your neck has been jostled around by circumstances. It's unsettling, isn't it? You know what it is to fall off the swing. You know what it is to have people shove you out of line. You know what it is to be torn. You know what it is to be rejected. And you also know joy. You know forgiveness. You know healing.
And through this all you are tasting what God and His kingdom are like. Both terrible and good. Simultaneously dangerous and beautiful. Concurrently rugged and serene. Rigorous yet simple. Painful yet savory. You'll understand this better later on, but I'm glad you're already getting a taste now.
Whew, and to think that even but two years ago I ballistically hated the idea that you were going to being torn and hurt. Kids are supposed to be nurtured, coddled, protected from harm at ANY cost. Yeah, that's another part of the message of this feministic society. Kids and their happiness are an untouchable, unquestionable golden calf.
Your life is so much richer and deeper from the brokenness that has taken place. Is taking place.
And to think that I feared and despised with horror what I knew was going to happen to you. Yeah, daddy has been undergoing a long and painful detox in the last two years. Damn that Kool Aid. Daddy's life was not broken growing up, and so I got scared when my roller coaster started moving too.
And just like you, I have been frightened and wondered, "what is going on here? This is not what I was told. This is not at all what I expected, this is not what is supposed to happen." Yeah, daddy knows what it is to white-knuckle in life.
And just like you, my Daddy has always been there. Mostly beside me as we experience things together, but sometimes He's observing from nearby and I haven't been able to hear His assurances above the noise and commotion all around me and the jolts from the ride.
But like you, somehow it's working out to where amidst the fear I am looking around and am beginning to digest and embrace the ride--sort of. Like you, my fear turned to confusion and puzzlement. How could this be? It looked fun, but it's perilous. It's supposed to be fun, but I'm scared to death. Everyone's saying it's supposed to be fun, and I'm white knucklin'. This ain't fun.
I've had the disconnect going on inside me too. It's cause I wasn't told about all aspects of the ride either. And like you, I've gone from confusion to maybe.
Maybe it's okay. Maybe this danger is actually alright. Maybe it's supposed to be scary as well as fun. Maybe the uncertainty is the fun. Maybe the white knuckles are part of it. Oh, let me look around. Yep, white knuckles next to me. White knuckles on the car behind me. Is it supposed to be like this? I'm starting to get it now. Uh, sort of. My smile is still nervous, but might be beginning to wane.
Maybe it's not really all about comfort and pleasure and a smooth ride.
Perhaps pain is what gives salve such soothing, mending qualities when it reaches us. Maybe these seasons of parched thirst are what make the spring water so refreshing to the tongue and throat.
Maybe this brokenness is the breeding ground for something we can't see yet, but is coming.
Maybe misery and joy are the twins I've heard they are.
Before I go, there's another dimension to this. Not only is society selling a lopsided bill of goods to you and only highlighting selected facets to you; the body of Jesus is as well.
There is smoke n' mirrors and allure in the Church as never before. Slanted marketing, tainted portrayals, selective descriptions.
It's everywhere.
We can have a new heart, given to us by God, with no mention that our old heart must die.
Salvation is a "free gift" that only asks one to "accept Jesus".
You may hear God will circumcise our hearts to make us His, but you won't hear it mentioned that He does so without the use of anesthesia.
Speaking of circumcision, you'll be told it's a one-time occurrence (during a "sinner's prayer", etc), when in fact God continually circumcises our hearts on an ongoing basis. We are not saved during one moment or one experience. We are being saved throughout our lives (1 Cor 1:18, 2 Cor 2:15). God does not ask us to die one time, during an experience. He continues to bid us to die, frequently, all throughout our time here.
The idea that you can grow up and mature as His flesh and blood, without the mention of hardship, trials and suffering. [Romans 5]
You're going to hear a lot about bliss in this life from Blessing Mongers, when we're told in fact that in this life we will have trouble in various forms. [Hardships, trials, etc. James 1]
You'll hear that because you're God's flesh and blood you are entitled to smooth sailing in this life. [see Hebrews 12, it talks about how God treats His true sons]
You're going to hear a lot about glory. Boy, will you ever. But you are not going to hear it much said "we must share His suffering if we are to share His glory". (Romans 8:17) They will only quote the first part of that verse to you; the inheritance part. You will see entire bodies and movements and people who exclusively shout "we are inheritors", and nothing else will ever come out of their mouths.
In addition to these partial disclosures and twistings, there are also things about the Way which simply are not mentioned or certainly not embraced today. For example, we are told that Jesus will baptize us "with the Holy Spirit and with fire" (Luke 3). The baptism of the Holy Spirit is its own post, so for now it's simply the absence of talking about the baptism of fire in today's Church.
You already are knowing what the baptism of fire is. Part of it is the agony we are bearing in this life. The separation, the heartache, the pain beyond description in our circumstances. It's searing our hearts, yet also molding our spirits. Somehow, mysteriously, through this we are being fabricated for something.
I won't go further with this right now, cause as my friend Jon says, "explanation kills". But just know that there is method to God's madness in this fire. And you are already tasting it, and we're beginning to see the first spring flowers shoot through the ground in this winter of life. I just wanted to let you know you won't be hearing church talk about the baptism of fire.
Finally, you'll also hear the message that the Christian life too is about its own type of fun and frolic 24/7. It is no more true, no less a lie, than society telling it to you. It doesn't matter that the message has Jesus' name plastered on it.
It is really neat when we intercourse with God, and there are times when the intimacy and His salve and His joy surpass anything we know down here. Those occasions are really cool, but they are also just that, occasions. Our life in Him is no more mountaintop 24/7 than anything else.
Anyone who tells you so is full of it. That's like saying we don't have a great relationship because I don't cause you to be giggling and laughing every single second we're together. That type of talk and view is utter bullshit.
So, anyway, I'm glad we got to go to the carnival. And I'm glad the roller coaster was one of the rides you wished to ride. It showed me some things about you and some things about me. And reminded me of some things about life and about the Way.
I could have pared this all down, and simply told you this: beware of messages and people who only tell partials and only paint rosy pictures, whether it's about life or about God. Oh, and things that are terrible & savory at the same time, like roller coasters? They have God's fingerprints all over them.
I love you, sweetheart.
