Lifeline

(Acts 27:14-22) But after no long time there beat down from it a tempestuous wind, which is called Euraquilo:  (15) and when the ship was caught, and could not face the wind, we gave way [to it,] and were driven.  (16) And running under the lee of a small island called Cauda, we were able, with difficulty, to secure the boat:  (17) and when they had hoisted it up, they used helps, under-girding the ship; and, fearing lest they should be cast upon the Syrtis, they lowered the gear, and so were driven.  (18) And as we labored exceedingly with the storm, the next day they began to throw the [the freight] overboard;  (19) and the third day they cast out with their own hands the tackling of the ship.  (20) And when neither sun nor stars shone upon [us] for many days, and no small tempest lay on [us,] all hope that we should be saved was now taken away.  (21) And when they had been long without food, then Paul stood forth in the midst of them, and said, Sirs, ye should have hearkened unto me, and not have set sail from Crete, and have gotten this injury and loss.  (22) And now I exhort you to be of good cheer; for there shall be no loss of life among you, but [only] of the ship.  

lifeline |ˈlīfˌlīn|

noun

1 a thing on which someone or something depends or which provides a means of escape from a difficult situation: faith is a lifeline for the hopeless.

No matter how many times I read Holy Scripture, I am often stunned to see a new perspective in the Word. This is singularly attributable to maturing in the spirit and my ever continuing readiness to see a Biblical lesson. It’s rarely like a bolt of lightening, and never a revelation that could be labeled as ‘new interpretation’, but rather just a grown up understanding of what has always been there to be seen. Truly the Bible is a living Word. 

Recently, reading in Acts, the last chapters, once again I found Paul a prisoner on a ship bound for an interview with Caesar. The Jews wanted him eliminated. He was making too many waves in the religious community, drawing away too many faithful to become followers of The Way. They didn’t like it, so they asked the Romans to do their dirty work for them, find him guilty and execute him. 

In ancient Asia, things didn’t move as quickly as they do now. Paul spent several years as a prisoner, awaiting fair trial. As a natural born Roman citizen, he was entitled to be heard. Though the Jews made up a case against him, the local authorities, having interviewed him, couldn’t find a thing worth executing him for. They kept passing the buck until eventually he was sent off for a face to face with the big guy. 

This took time too because he had to be transported on a ship, airplanes and other modern transportation not yet having been invented. Winter was coming and Paul warned them they should port until after the threat of storms had passed. They didn’t listen, of course. Sure enough, they found themselves in a tempest for weeks. They couldn’t eat, they couldn’t sleep. They had to toss over goods to lighten the load. They believed they were going to die. Paul assured them that he was destined to be interviewed by Caesar and they also would be spared by God’s mercy. And that is exactly what happened, even though the ship was destroyed.

All these years, reading this story, imagining the little Roman vessel tossed about, the crew desperately hanging on, soaked to the skin, seasick and without hope, I never noticed one little thing, until this last read through. 

Paul suffered right along with the rest. He was tossed and soaked and sick and hungry and sleep deprived. He went through exactly what the crew did. But he had one thing they did not. He had faith and foreknowledge that he would be spared. 

How significant a thing is faith? How do we ignore the lifeline that keeps us looking up and out, keeps us holding on? How can we trust a manmade doctrine that lulls us into believing we don’t really have to have faith like Paul in the Tempest if we just believe that we won’t have to go through the Tempest? 

Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, just like Paul warning the crew who would not listen, the Tempest is upon us, dearhearts. The waves of judgment are about to engulf us. We cannot prepare for this physically, only spiritually. It’s time to grow up and realize that God often spares us but only after we survive the storm. It’s the faith that we will  survive, no matter what, that is our lifeline. 

For Him,

Meema

God is waiting to show Himself strong in behalf of those whose heart is perfect toward Him. He invites us to prove Him. He longs to demonstrate what He can do, exceeding abundantly above all we ask or think, great and mighty things which we know not.

“Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

This is our Father’s world. God is still on the throne of creation. Call on Him and He will answer.  ~ Vance Havner

Groupthink 6.0

Have you noticed the strange and growing disconnect between what is real and what is fake that is effectively disabling common sense? FYI, this didn’t happen over night; this debilitating condition evolved slowly over time. It’s clear for me that we have been socially engineered to accept, without question, that which is not real through the ever mounting volume of advertising and fiction thrown at us daily. Fiction has become our new standard so we are fully prepped to believe whatever we are told to believe even if it flies in the face of common sense. This process wasn’t an accident either. It was a agenda that is now almost fully installed.  

I understand the process of flooding brains with untruth until it becomes the substitutionary reality because during the course of one of my ‘careers’ I worked for a print ad agency. As a photo stylist I was energetically plugged into GroupThink 1.0. It was my OS for creating beautiful images incorporated into catalogs designed to entice the masses to buy, buy, buy. Of course, I didn’t see it as social manipulation then, for me, what I did was an art form as well as a job.  

One day the agency was bought out by a number cruncher company. In short order, the 'artists'–stylists, photographers, graphic designers, and support personnel were required to fill out daily time cards in six minute increments in military time. Suddenly numbers were more important than the art. Anyone who understands basic human nature could have easily predicted that within a few weeks, the artists, who were running from set to set all day in a 50,000 sq ft studio, and who didn’t have time to stop and fill out what they were doing every six minutes, would franticly fill out their previous day’s cards in the break room with totally fabricated information just before turning them in every morning.

It was my first exposure to the insanity of the modern computer age concept of productivity determined by numeric computation. After six weeks of collecting and evaluating the completely erroneous data amassed from the CACs (Creative Allocation Card) the managers gathered us together to announce their great pleasure in the  success of the program and how it was helping to forge increased efficiency. 

I recall that moment so vividly because it was a major life lesson. Not a single face betrayed the secret. Not a twitch, not a smirk. We, who knew the numbers were fiction, would carry on doing our jobs anyway. Those, whose jobs were to run algorithms all day, would do theirs. The work on the catalogs we produced would meet the deadlines just as they had before and the number crunchers would believe their mysterious mathematical computations–garnered from false information–were what had made it happen. The newly manufactured ‘truth’ would replace the reality and appear to run things. It was my first encounter with a matrix world where concept replaces substance, where uncountable human variables could seem to be contained within inhuman numeric formulas as though humanity could at last be converted to robotic efficiency and obedience.  

Of course, the matrix isn’t real and eventually what is unreal always and finally disintegrates leaving those who believed the created reality confused and bewildered, and prepared to  engage Blameshift 3.0. Because in the untrue, unreal world, what is plain and simply true must always be obscured to maintain the illusion of the Groupthink 6.0 Operating System. 

If you haven’t figured it out, Groupthink is not God’s System. 

Update: When truth finally prevails, and it will, as it must, the veil created by the lies of  false 1’s and 0’s will fall... and the final update will never need updating again.

For Him,

Meema

(Daniel 12:4) But thou, O Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book, even to the time of the end: many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.

Through a Glass Darkly

We like to think of ourselves as generally and acceptably smart. Mostly we are not, at least in regards to the things that truly matter in the universe. In fact, we rarely see the big picture, choosing instead to embrace that which acceptably fits within our comfort zone of existence. Though there is always a solid bedrock of truth that can be accessed with some effort and a measure of discomfort, it is often obscured by layers and layers of soft, comforting, untruth that swaddles our intellect and psyche. Thus we tidily force the universe to conform to our understanding and we confine it within our boundaries. It does make more sense that way. 

My rule of thumb for discerning who and what is true has always been by observing actions, and whether or not they align with spoken words. This, as a safe-guard, has served me well. Though I find in my mature years this has also turned me somewhat cynical. Because I have seen behavior continuously betraying well-spoken words over and over again, coming from every corner, political, religious and personal encounters, I have developed a quick-draw response mechanism that leaves me instantly aware of disingenuousness and I am resigned that not only do liars abound, but also that people, in general, seem to prefer lies. Further, rarely can one be dissuaded from what he/she is determined to believe, even if there is empirical evidence to the contrary. As a Christian, I constantly struggle against this pragmatic, if not cold, attitude; I am supposed to hope for the best at all times.

So, hope I do. But hoping does not change what I see. And what I see is that the god of this world has been unleashed to freely harvest those who prefer to be content with what seems right and who therefore choose to ignore what they really see and what experiential evidence could reveal to them, if they but wanted to see. It is a sad report that in this evil age, the advice to, believe what is done and not what is said, is not enough armor. There is a seeping fog, an illusion, spreading that is dulling all the senses. Nowadays one can hardly believe what one sees even less than what one hears. What is real anymore? What is earnest, standard, reliable? What is true? If we cannot believe what we see or hear, how do we preserve integrity? How do we maintain discernment and equilibrium? How can we think of ourselves as ‘smart’ if we are so easily manipulated?

In this ‘feel-good’ era where comfort and happiness, not truth, is the primary goal of human existence, self-righteousness swells up to become the substitutionary delusion that gently reconfigures vision to conform to the path of least resistance. Within the fog, where vision and hearing is impaired, one can rationalize and ignore those conflicting bits of experience and visual evidence that might counter and, at the least, present arguments against persuaded judgment. It is in the dim light where one tends to make excuses for what is seen because it is blurry and out of focus. In this altered state one easily succumbs to the temporary created reality. And it will feel good and right, for a time.

But bedrock truth is not just fundamental, it is eternal. It is the difference between gold and glitter. Though not always as attractive as artificial turf neatly spread out over the remains of a festering dump, on bedrock is where one is supposed to build one’s house, if one wishes to  be able to stand against the coming storm. 

As a Christian, I am supposed to hold out hope that those who are called, no matter how far away they stray, will open their eyes, look out, and see through the glass clearly. It would be dishonest if I said I am not disheartened when I see that eyes are not only not opening, they seem to be obstinately held shut and more eyes closing every day. 

This I know, every word I have typed can be interpreted according to the reader’s perspective, either getting or missing my point entirely, and, frankly this is my greatest frustration. Nevertheless, though hope fades, I continue to pray even if some do choose to refuse to see. It isn’t my words that can clear up fogged vision, anyway. 

It is the sudden terrifying rush of realization that we are finite, and accountable, and that one day each of us is destined to find out what is true, whether we believed it or not. 

For Christ,

Meema

(1 Corinthians 13:10-12) but when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away.  (13:11) When I was a child, I spake as a child, I felt as a child, I thought as a child: now that I am become a man, I have put away childish things.   For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face; now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.