Poison

"Reason, that pretty whore, comes in and thinks she's wise, and what she says, what she thinks, is from the Holy Spirit ... who can help us then? Not judges, not doctors, no king or emperor, because [reason] is the Devil's greatest whore." Martin Luther, Last Sermon in Wittenberg, January 17, 1546

"...lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'..."
Lee Ann Womak, I Hope You Dance

This has been a week in which the Refiners fire has been burning all around me. At 0010 this morning as I drove home from the Friday dance, I felt it badly. The burning of the furnace, the pounding of the hammer, the cold, hard heart of the anvil. Hate and distrust welled up in and around me. I felt betrayed and unloved, felled by pretty words and self-serving concerns. I was reminded, as I have been so many times in my adult life that I am poison, my gifts are not wanted, I am not wanted.

At 0015 something changed, the Refiner finished the sword He had been forging all week long with the metal of my life. Still glowing hot, He plunged it into me to be quenched, suddenly the heat and the stench of it's forging were cooled, as the blade pierced my heart and pricked my soul, burning away my concerns, and replacing it with just one thing. Love.

Not just any love, but this, very specifically my love that I have for you. Yes, you. No, not some other person who reads this: YOU.

Let's cut right to the point. All of my/our pretty arguments, all of my/our reasoning, all of the Scripture quoting, finger pointing, infighting, posturing, self-serving, and politicking. All of it is just meaningless, because none of it is love. We are full of sound and fury ... signifying nothing.

I am left feeling like I am poison still, but the poison is Love. Love is poison to every earthly desire and want. It is senseless, reasonless, and as stupid as the only sinless man to ever live sacrificing His life, so that I might live.

To all who I have stonewalled, argued with, and in general been a donkey's behind to this week, my apologies my brothers and sisters, I will do better. I often wondered why Christ told the grieving man to let the dead bury their own, it seemed so cruel, but I understand now. It is because the living should be busy, and I plan on being busy, loving YOU more than I should, even if it is a mistake.

Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.
Mother Teresa