Somewhere deep down inside of us, where we are truly who we are in our purest form, lives a child.  Understanding this child is of immeasurable importance in our life journey and in our pursuit of experiencing what true freedom is.  Any attempt to address the dynamic struggles of the corporate human soul is fleeting until we  first confront the depravity inside of our own.  It is in the darkest corner of our thoughts, hearts, and minds where others are refused entry and where we avoid at all costs that we must venture.  This secret space inside of us, blanketed in lightless unfamiliarity, is occupied by our true self, the self we were before the world stole our innocence.  We still live there, wounded and traumatized, longing for the womb, an insatiable hoping for safety, security, comfort, encouragement, acceptance, and belonging.  The child inside of us wants nothing more than to return to this place.  The harshness of this life keep the child curled up and scared, and over the course of our lives we numb our minds to it’s very existence.

In tangible terms at our birth we loose the warmth of our mothers.  That first moment of life and light, sterile and white, that brings us into this world is the first loss in a lifelong series of losses and lessons teaching us that our aching for home cannot be realized.  We look to life-change and accomplishment to bring us the feeling of home we desire.  We graduate, get promotions, marry, buy houses, and attain new levels of success all with the hopes of finding the rest our soul thirsts for, all the while the child inside goes neglected and forgotten, exposed to the cold, and dying with along our hearts.

The wounds of the inner-child within each of us are some of the most important driving factors to the people we become.  The void of security causes us to reach for people, identities, and titles that may satisfy our craving.  We convince ourselves that our goals will provide for us the calm we need.  For me I’m realizing more and more that my insecurities are in reality cries from the boy inside who is still hoping the world isn’t as terrible as it really is.  This boy doesn’t measure up to the standards of our culture and finds himself devastatingly  wounded.  I work towards earning recognition, respect and admiration while simultaneously there is a part of me that just wants to curl up and forget how imperfect I am.  The specific wounds we carry have the potential to determine how sincerely we do relationships, how motivated we can be professionally, how authentically we can have faith in good, and how much we expect of others.  In a huge way the inner child direct directs how our personality comes into being.

See, from my first breath on, I’ve been learning, we’ve been learning, just how imperfect the world really is.  The first time we compare our bodies to those in magazines, movies, and billboards inadequacy infiltrates our being like an evil army and a pain that can’t be describe owns us.  We miss the days when comparison was impossible and when the warm walls of the womb protected us from comparing our parts to the parts of others.  Our first experience hurting some one we love or being hurt by a loved one destroys the notion of trust and our ability to trust anyone or anything.  The first time we are rejected, the truth that love is conditional pours over us like a waterfall and we mourn.  Our first taste of devastating poverty, injustice, and oppression taint the notion of joy and happiness as we are forever burdened by the suffering of others.  We’re filled with guilt as we wonder if there is ever reason to celebrate when so much of our world lay in desperate need.  We’re constantly at war, taking blows to our soul left and right, forcing that child deeper and further into darkness until we forget it ever existed.  There is deep inside of each of us a child longing for home but imprisoned in loneliness.

Some of us will settle to walk in naivety, a path chosen by most everybody, filled with those who occupy their minds and days with anything but their own scars.  This path will lead to a life of manageable neglect.  We’ll  pretend that our child-self isn’t there.   We’ll live within the standards, ideals, and protocols of society hoping to get by unscathed.  We’ll buy into the system, spending our days going through the motions of the American Dream.   Whenever emotions bubble up from our depths we’ll push them right back down.  Things will get done, quotas will get met, and there may be less pain, but it will not have the same depth of richness, awareness, and meaning.

A rare few will seek to speak with the child within, opening up wounds and scars that never quite healed.  The journey will be filled with hardship, challenge, fear, and hurt.  Questions will be asked about why, how, and when our child-self started hiding in the dark corners of our heart as we begin to shed light on the palest of places.  Abuse, neglect, and exploit will awaken from the shadows and tear at our identity.  People, places, and moments will bring to the surface memories which had long ago been locked away but were part of our journey all along.  As we embark to understand who we are in the truest sense we begin to bear witness to life on the deepest of levels.  Trauma, suffering, and pain are no longer avoided but become familiar terrains.  Judgement, Pride, and Malice will fade away as we loosen our grips on our need to prove ourselves.  Who we are will slowly become clearer and clearer as we embrace rather than suppress the wounded child within.  We begin to ask questions like, “Why does this hurt when he says that?”, “Why do I always push people away?”, “Why do I always end up hurt by others, is something wrong with me?” , “Why do have such a sinking feeling when I look at myself in the mirror?”, or “Why am I never happy?”.  The answers to all of these questions lay, in part, in the child within.

What wounds, scars, insecurities, and shame do you carry inside of you?  What darkness do you have inside?  Are you avoiding the real answers and quenching the pain temporarily by occupying yourself or pretending that there isn’t in reality a child crying out for answers, protection, safety, and ultimately love without conditions?  Have you wondered if peace in the world is ever achievable before we understand what peace means in our hearts?  Is true freedom a set of legislation and rights or a place of heart where the child within is no longer forced to live in darkness and where the truest longings and yearnings are understood?  Understanding who we are and where we’ve been is no walk in the woods, but if we want the freedom we long for, we must first begin by becoming conscious of the wounded child we keep inside.

When I was young, the smallest trick of light,
Could catch my eye,
Then life was new and every new day,
I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for,
And I hoped for things unseen,
I had wings and dreams could soar,
I just don’t feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears,
Watered Heaven with their tears,
Before words were spoken,
Before eternity.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach,
Was not so high,
Then I thought the world was so much smaller,
Feeling that I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies,
Behind infinity,
Below the face of Heaven,
He stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need you,
Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher,
Every new day again.

Man versus himself.
Man versus machine.
Man versus the world.
Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on,
The wisdom I lack,
The burdens keep pilling
Up on my back.
So hard to breathe,To take the next step.
The mountain is high,
I wait in the depths.
Yearning for grace,
And hoping for peace.
Dear God…
Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition,
without a beginning or an end.
Here’s my heart, let it be forever Your’s,
Only You can make every new day seem so new

-Reese Roper

Our world is an ever changing, never stopping, forever moving, constantly evolving reality.  Every single moment is immeasurably different than the last and the present will never be the same as it was just a moment ago.  So, what makes this happen?  How does everything keep on moving forward?  How do things change on planet earth?  What occurs or doesn’t occur to make things do things?  In my mind there are two ways in which the standard operating procedure or status quo alter.

1) The Natural Process.  Let’s face it.  Existence is unraveling before us and we’re its subjects, slaves, and pons.  We did not choose to be, we may not have even wanted to be, we just are.  In this way as the world changes around us, outside of our control, we humans are just along for the ride, watching the changing scenery outside our train of life.  Change just happens and we are just observers.

2) We can make change.  Have you ever made a goal for yourself and had the gumption to follow through with some simple steps to make the goal reality?  Have you ever envisioned an outcome that was beyond your immediate grasp, yet were inspired to work towards it only to have your vision come true?  In this way I’m learning that we homo-sapiens deviate from the rest of the animal kingdom, we can dream.  We can dream things years, decades, and centuries from now and develop an action plan that incarnates our dream from abstract to actual.

It’s my experience that most everybody follows option one.   It’s rare to meet the individuals who live by option two.  Many of us find ourselves somewhere in the middle.  Here’s my point:  For some strange reason, we each have the capacity to dream up the most unbelievable outcomes for our life and then we get to spend our life striving for this ends.  I’m becoming convinced that this ability is what makes us human.  The ability to set goals, make plans, fail, and try again.  The ability to create.  The ability to dream.  Without a doubt we may get things wrong, or come up with a notion that is misdirected, but god-forbid we miss out on the adventure altogether!  If you were given limitless freedom to imagine where you could be 5, 10, 40 years from now what would you be doing?  If you could change something about life what would it be, and what are the steps to get from where you are now, to where your dream is reality?  Why just sit back and let change happen all around us when we were given the incredulous chance to make our own change?  Maybe this is a part of what life to the fullest looks like.

I’d imagine that those unattainable words of Shan Jahan were forever in the forefront of his mind.  Shan Jahan was the Mughal emperor who masterfully produced one of the most magnificent displays of engineering and architecture in human history, the Taj Mahal.  The Taj Mahal was constructed in 1648 and began being built in 1641, one year after the death of Gauhara Begum, Shan Jahans beloved wife.   The love Shan Jahan had for her was said to “exceed by a thousand times what he felt for any other”.  She died while giving birth to their fourteenth child.  So grief-stricken was Shan Jahan that he set out to construct something so vast it would be remembered forever.  Have you ever lost some one or some thing?  Imagine loosing your everything.  From what we can tell from historical records and literature Shan Jahan so passionately loved his wife that after she died, his mood and temperament were never the same.  I’d imagine that if Shan Jahan was granted one wish, it would be to show his wife what he made for her.  That all of the affluence and power he possessed would be exchanged in a heartbeat for the chance to set his eyes on her once more.   That he would give anything to be able to just show her how much he loved her.  It was this immeasurable longing that had him build the marvelous display that is the Taj Mahal.

How would she respond?  How could she respond?  How do we respond to love when it is so undeserving?

One of the unfortunate mistakes we humans make when we receive a gift is to think that the gift is for us in the sense that it’s primarily for our own consumptuous appetite.  We see this every Christmas as children forego the expression of love their parents are making and see the holiday as just another chance to get more stuff.  I’d imagine this behavior pains the gift giver, the one who pours out their resources to purchase a physical item as an illustration, a marker, a representation of their loyalty, faithfulness, and love.  To me we miss the point of gifts when we think they are in themselves an ends, they are not.  The gift is a means to an ends, the true ends being an enriched awareness of an abstract truth, love.

Again, what is the appropriate response?

The Psalmist of the Bible wrote of this dilemma when he became conscious of the grand, epic, vast, beautiful, magnificent, indescribable, intricate, and amazing expression of love God created for humanity.  If we survey the most ingenious architecture of our realm, how does our earth, solar system, and universe compare when held next to the towers, complexes, and temples of man?  Is the galaxy not infinitely more complicated and spacious than our man made structures?  What if the very matter of this existence in all of its complexities and grandeur is a Taj Mahal built as a gift for the human race?  What if every molecular function, planetary orbit, microscopic organism, beating heart, thunderous storm, brilliant sky, and distant star are an illustration of God’s love for us?  What if God could whisper in our soul when we gaze upon the beauty of a newborn child or a sunset, what would He say?  I think He’d softly say  to us, “I made this all for you…”

The question that remains is, how will you respond?

Psalm 8:3-9

When I consider your heavens,
the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars,
which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?

You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.

You made him ruler over the works of your hands;
you put everything under his feet:

all flocks and herds,
and the beasts of the field,

the birds of the air,
and the fish of the sea,
all that swim the paths of the seas.

O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!

So today I sat at a Tully’s in downtown Pleasanton hoping to prepare my message for Jr. High STUFF tomorrow night.  In case you were dying to know, I’m going to be sharing about a man named Emmanuel Jal, a Sudanese Rapper and rescued child soldier caught up in the Darfur conflict.  Its a pretty sweet story, check it out.  While I gazed into the world that is my laptop, I started to observe my fellow Tully’s patrons in the cafe with me.  To my left sat three young Christian men who were doing some sort of Bible Study.  I’m confident it was a study group because of the gold-lined, leather bound books on the table with them.  I know those books all to well.  To my right sat an African American man preparing a sermon to preach.  I overheard him describe that he is a chaplain of some sort.  In front of me sat a middle-aged, glasses sporting, man with a stack of books 8 inches high.  He seemed to be studying for a sermon too based on the small cross attached to the backside of his laptop and his Christian commentary volumes by his side.  As I surveyed my companions I realized that about half of the people in the store were studying the Bible or preparing for some variation of a Bible lesson. My first visceral emotion was cynical, and filled with judgment.  I usually enjoy being the only Christian around, it gives e a sense of identity and uniqueness.  Why is it that we have paradoxical needs to both fit in and stand out?

As I began to process the reality of the situation my negativity evolved into pride, the good kind.  I began to realize that these men were people who model their lives after the precepts in the Bible and aspire to be people of love, generosity, sacrifice, integrity, boldness, risk, adventure, and faith.  I soon realized that I count them on my team, the team of Jesus, and that is an awesome fact.    I think in todays culture many assume that we are in and strive to be in post-religious society.  My friend Kevin wrote about this earlier this week and it got me thinking.  Do I conceal my allegiance to the Christian Worldview, or am I proud to sport the colors of Christ?  And if I do decide to embrace the Christian Worldview, what am I signing up for?  The more I thought about what a Christian man stands for, the more I began to be proud.  Here are some things I thought of today at Tully’s that I am unafraid to align myself with, but are by no means a comprehensive or complete list of details within a Christians worldview.

1) Belief  that life is not an accident. (Gen 1)  Every person I see, every cloud, every animal, and every day are results of intention and purpose.

2) Belief that life is sacred, precious, a gift to be treasured. (Psalm 139:13-16)  This allows us to live humble lives of gratitude and generosity as we come to terms with the fact that we are blessed for every breath we take.

3) Belief that we live in a broken, sinful world in need of help, Gods help. (Gen 2, Rom 3:23)

4) Belief that true, full life starts and never ends when we humbly accept the fact that we need Gods help and receive his love for us through Jesus. (John 3)

5) The Bible is Gods inspired word written through imperfect humans to tell his story. (2 Timothy 3:16)

6) We are best suited for living a life in community with others, more specifically the Church.  (Acts 2:42-47) As Jon Donne, the English poet, understood, “no man is an island”.  From the moment we are borne to the moment we die we are dependent on one-another to get by.  This should be celebrated and praised because each person can contribute to others in truly unique ways.

7) Belief that God designed us for a life of love, service, giving, sacrafice, and learning to empty ourselves for the sake of our fellow man. (Phil 2:1-11)  Selflessness vs. Selfishness.  This is truly counter-culture as our capitalistic consumer driven society is never satisfied with what it has and envelopes every aspect of human relationships.  The Christian love should be the guiding force in friendships, stewardship of the enviornment, wealth, sexuality, justice, laws, politics, ethics, and everything else we do or say.

What if people actually embraced a Christian Worldview?  Aids would stop spreading as a result of people remaining celibate, committing themselves to saving sex for marriage.  Wars could cease as we begin to serve instead of dominate.  The poor and downtrodden would be embraced and taken care of and provided for as generosity permeates the hearts of the rich.  Fathers and Husbands would fulfill their responsibility to their families, Wives and mothers to theirs.  The list could go on forever!

It is these informing ideas that contribute to the Christian Worldview and make me proud to see the world through this lens.  I feel lucky and blessed.  Reminding myself of what I believe drives a desire inside of me to celebrate and proclaim how there is goodness in our world.  I would gladly raise a drink and say “Salute, Cheers, L’Chaim, or Hell-yeah!” to these concepts in the company of other Christians.  Anyone want to join me?

As far back as I can remember I’ve had a magnetic fascination with bridges. The ability to float steal and cement roads through the air, over water, and amidst the clouds has always seemed magical to me.  I’ve always marveled at the human beings’ imagination that refuses to be stopped by  rivers, bays, oceans, and other treacherous obstacles.   In a way, bridges scream to all of the world that we will not be held back.  I’ve also found the unifying nature of bridges compelling.  They bring two once distant places together by bridging a gap between cities, cultures, economies, environments, and people.  For all of their interesting symbolism and eye catching architecture, there is one type of bridge that I find most inspiring, the suspension bridge.

A suspension bridge is a style of bridge that actually  hangs its roadway in mid-air by a series of cables and chords.  These cables and chords are suspended and anchored to a number of towers that hold up the roadway and keep the vehicles and their drives from falling into the depths below.  In a sense it’s like what happens when you hang your shirts and pants to dry on a clothes-line.  The line supports the weight of the wet clothes, and the line is tethered to some sort of anchor.  The worlds most recognizable suspension bridge is most certainly the iconic Golden Gate Bridge for it’s architectural beauty and symbolic history.

What I find so inspiring about suspension bridges is that the entire weight of the structure rests on the towers, whose arms stretch out like branches of oaks, ornately decorated like a Christmas tree, holding up a countless number of commuters who never know that their life is being cradled by the suspended steal above their cars.  Every day thousands of people drive over the roadway never fully knowing that they are hanging in empty space, supported by two fierce towers.  They walk, drive, and bike across the span never fully appreciating the work of the spires that hold everything together.  An unfathomable weight of trucks, vans, and people are forever lifted up by the endless strength of the suspension towers as they stand their ground and reach into the sky like a mighty mountain holding fast through any storm.

In a way I am reminded  of the character of God when I think about suspension bridges.  Everyday I walk through life and forget to reflect on Him who holds all things together.  I often find myself like the monday morning commuter, focused on my tired tasks of the day, never pausing to look up into the sky and soak in the miracle of floating, that is life.  Isn’t it amazing how every single car, bike, or truck that crosses a suspension bridge is held up by the bridges’ towers, mostly thankless for the support they provide?  I wonder how many of us go through life never understanding this.  I wonder how many of us will never look up and marvel at the majestic beauty and strength of the suspension towers that hold our lives together.  He holds us up. His strength gets us where we need to go.

Not only are the towers themselves reflective of Gods strength and provision in our lives, I think they are a model for us to follow.  I admire more than anyone else the people in life who give themselves to others even when gratitude for their sacrifice is never offered.  Mothers, fathers, firefighters, pastors, doctors, and teachers are all illustrations of the thankless support that is personified in the towers of a suspension bridge.  They hold us up.  Their strength gets us to where we need to go.  I want to be like them.  I want to know what it’s like to stand tall and strong, providing a path for others with no need for recognition.  I want to be walked on, driven through, and ignored.  I want to endure wind, rain, cold, and loneliness for the sake of others.  I want to be like those suspension towers, always giving, never taking.

For the past week or so I have seen more Monarch Butterfliesthan any other time in my life.  These frail, winged creatures are on their annual migratory flight pattern back to Canada for the Summer and they just happened to grace the Tri-Valley along the way.  At one point the other day I could see dozens of them in every direction, all fleeing from the South pushing on towards the great North.  As I marveled at this natural phenomenon I began to wonder and ponder about the all relating factors contributing to these tiny insects’ exodus.  What is pushing them North and why?  Along the journey these Monarchs have transitioned multiple generations of flies as they have reproduced numerous times since their last struggle North.  Each generation picks up where the last left off; North in the Spring, South in the Fall.  This means that NONE of the butterflies I witnessed have even seen the majestic North, they were only following the call of their ancestral instinct, the relentless hunger for progression.

What does that feel like?  I’d imagine it’s like having an unquenchable thirst for flight.  To feel the air around your wings.  It’s like an undying urge to follow suit with the countless other Monarchs that are your family on the well traveled path of destiny.  I’d imagine it must be a longing like no other, and unyielding urgency to venture to the next location and then the next.  It must be such a strong calling that every ounce of your being craves for nothing more than the North. You dream about, think about, and live about it.  Here is my question:  What massive intrinsic endeavors are we as humans destined to set forth on?  What soul longings do we posses?  What is our North?  What are the things we MUST do with our lives?  Purpose, destiny, calling, eternity?

All I know is I want to go North like the monarchs.  Before myself multiplied millions of my ancestors explored creation, philosophized theology, established nations, and accomplished incomprehensible feats all with the hopes of finding some sort of worthwhile truth.  I want to follow my predecessors in this divinely historic mass migration towards the unknown.  I want to feel the flight of mystery.  I want to experience the fatigue of endless travel.  I want the wind to brush across my face as I soar through the clouds.  I don’t know what the final destination is, but I imagine that like the great Monarchs, each stop is not the finish, just the beginning of a new adventure.

Usually when a person thinks of a fresh start they use the metaphor of a blank canvas.  One assumes that the old painting is thrown out and fully replaced by a fresh, snowy white, empty template for which they can start from scratch.  While this notion may seem quaint, this is NOT how life works, and certainly not how most artworks are created.  Let me explain.

I just finished an oil painting class.  By all standards I am most definitely an amateur painter, even though I’m really enjoying it.  As we learned how to paint pictures I was amazed by how much work and effort it takes to get any sort of desirable results.  First and most important comes the underpainting.  This is the foundation of the work, laying the bedrock for the structure that will soon take shape.  As the artists’ imagination leaves the mind and incarnates itself on the canvas as thousands of brushstrokes are painstakingly swept across it’s emptiness until every portion of white is blanketed with paint.  Then it dries.   At this stage in the images’ development, detailed shapes are not the priority, rather the character and texture become the backbone for what will soon be.  Finally details like lights and darks are carefully scumbled in.  Long careless brushstrokes are out and delicately applied perfection is in.  Once complete, the artist  scours his endeavors.  If the outcome is not right, and for some reason some thing doesn’t work, he will start anew.  At this stage the artist will not discard the canvas, he will use it as a deep foundation for the final product.  Instead of starting on a blank canvas he uses the intricacies and beauty of the first painting to build on top of.  This lends even more detail to the final product.  The finished painting is the result of tension, failure, beauty, excitement, and learning.  It is as deep as the oceans and as complicated as calculus, it is truly unique.  Often times the means are the goal for painters, not the ends.

I think this a perfect metaphor for life and its experiences.  No matter how badly we may want it, we will never fully receive a blank canvas in life.  On the contrary, we are the product of an infinite amount of both broken and healthy relationships, brilliant success and overwhelming failures, tragic loss and undeserved gain, traumatic hurt and momentary bliss.  Within each one of us is an underpainting miles deep that tells the story of our lives.  Each experience will shape the next, each morning will mold the evening, and the night will direct the day.  If our lives were like oil paintings they would be in the process of being painted over again and again with each color and value having significant meaning for the next.

This idea may not be glamorous or neat and clean.  It means that we may never truly be rid of our pasts.  In a way, I like this because who I am is only because of who I’ve been, pain, joy, and all.

Addendum 1: This metaphor was intended to describe life’s experiences, not an attempt at theology by any means.  In terms of what I believe about the grander realities of existence I do think that our depravity, selfishness, and sin can be wiped clean.  I also think that we can become totally new people and can be offered a “blank canvas”.  But in terms of what we go through in life, I do not think we are meant to forget or erase our experiences, I think they were meant be a part of the process of becoming who we were intended to be.  Instead of hiding our scars I think we can learn to celebrate them.  Instead of moving on from a loss, failed relationship, or broken calling maybe we should accept them as wisdom, character, and depth.  Instead of trying to cover up our brokenness, maybe we should embrace ourselves as unfinished masterpieces and live in the realization that we are not complete, yet.

This blog is new, if you wish to read my older blogs go here: Thoughts for Remembrance