remembering the truth

In my attempting to be humble opinion, one of the most important parts of knowing someone well is to be able to pick out their weaknesses as well as their strengths.  To know someone is to know all of them and to love someone is to love all of them as well.  As you become familiar with those you are close to and those you are becoming close to, as you learn the ways in which they soar and the ways in which they fall, it enables you to be a more in tune friend, a more supportive spouse, a more encouraging parent, and a better prayer warrior petitioning before their Creator in the ways that are specific to them as individuals.  All of a sudden, the faces, moods, voices, body language and such become more than just clues but become answers to questions you no longer have to ask before you begin to respond.

Each of the loves in my home require these invisible lists in my mind.  My middlest man, my carbon copy, my clone in boy form, forgets everything, well he forgets the tangible and tasky things.  The instructions given to him on where to go, what to do or what to put away are quickly responded to in voice but are very rarely carried out without multiple reminders and, unfortunately on my part, an exasperated sigh at best.  Jackets left on benches, thermoses left on playgrounds, lights left on, packed suitcases from playtime in the fort outside have caused loss of my time and money and sanity more often than can be counted.  However, my frustration can only last so long because not a moment later, I find myself standing downstairs in the middle of another room frozen and staring at the wall desperately trying to remember why I went down there in the first place.

Forgetfulness is firmly planted in my catalogue of weaknesses.  It is, thankfully, somewhat amusing to my friends and family when they are required to send yet another text letting me know the array of things I just left at their homes after a dinner together or having to deal with the water bottle clanking around in their car that was left at the gym or the stack of boxes that my parents set aside to mail back all of our forgotten items after a trip to visit them.  Forgetfulness is most often frustrating and can occassionally be entertaining, but there are times when it can be downright detrimental, especially in cases when the item you are forgetting is Truth.

The Truth of God is in everything, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. (Eph 4:6), he is before all things and in him all things hold together (Col 1:17) and even the heavens declare {His} glory (Ps 19:1).  Truth is all around and in everything we see and do, but scattered in are lies specifically placed to throw us off and our Sovereign Father is not the father of those.

In times of trial, in those first moments when I am hit with a new hard or an old one that's come up once again, my greatest desire would be to tell you that the first thing I do is cling to those Truths, those promises of faithfulness that I know oh so well and have experienced time and time again.  But usually just the opposite occurs.  Instead I am like the fearful ant in A Bug's Life whose path was suddenly obstructed and instead of calmly searching out where to go next I am instead in the field screaming "I'm Lost!  Where's the line? It just went away.  What do I do?  We'll be stuck here forever!" 

Oh how I covet the ability of my dear Sherlock to close his eyes and tour his mind palace to find the exact item he is looking for to lean on and share to solve the problem at hand, though the drug cocktail he needs to get there makes it lose it's luster.  I often joke/am completely serious with my friends that if I had the space I would build a room like in A Beautiful Mind.  Though the walls would still reveal a mishmash of words, phrases, and drawings, they would not be covered in the sad proof of a man struggling with mental illness.  Instead, covering every available space, there would lie the quotes, scriptures, stories, diagrams and pictures that remind me of Truth, that will instantly ground me at the feet of the Cross where my eyes and heart and mind are immediately immersed in the faithfulness of my Father, reminded of the sacrifice of my Savior and held by the Spirit He left for me.  This would be welcomed much more than the desperate Where's Waldo search that I often attempt in the midst of panic.  Like those elusive red and white stripes, Truths are hard to find when you allow the world around them to interfere with your view.

While I am still seriously considering implementing my "beautiful mind" wall somewhere in the decorating scheme of our new home, I know in my heart it's not necessary.  The only thing that is necessary is to "be still" (Ps. 46:10) and to "seek first his kingdom and his righteousness." We are promised that "the words that go out from {His} mouth that not return to {Him} empty, but shall accomplish that which {He} purposes, and shall succeed in the thing for which {He} sent it (Isaiah 55:11)"  Truth is out there and Truth has been placed in me and in you by a Spirit that lives and walks and guides us everywhere and in everything.

Remembering can be difficult.  Waiting until the pain subsides before relishing that freak out or searching for a quick fix to allow you to limp on your way is a great temptation.  I would love to place a mandatory 24 hour time out on everyone, my self most definitely included, when times of struggle or hardships occur whether they are traumatic or just slightly frustrating.  24 hours to sit and be still, to think and remember and seek, to wait for the Truths to float up, to let the words that are hidden in our hearts be able to make their impact first so the doubt and lies can't take center stage.

Pray for me, I'll be praying for you.