Balaam and Me

While this probably won't be the bestseller on the level of Marley and Me, it pretty much sums up what has been running through my head for the last several hours. The Old Testament tells the story of a prophet named Balaam who had real trouble making wise decisions. Just when one of his bad choices was about to cost him his life, God began speaking to him through the lips of his donkey, or as the King James Version says, "his ass." Preachers for generations since have used the illustration of God speaking through an ass to make points with their congregations and shock people into seeing how God can speak in unusual ways. What no one has ever seemed to consider is the possibility of Satan doing the same thing.

This morning was the latest of many examples of my speaking like an ass. My daughter was running later than I wanted her to be in getting ready to go to worship and teaching at our church. To "encourage" her (read, "manipulate"), I puked out this lovely line: "See you at lunchtime, cause their is no way you're getting to Woodland Hills on time." I adore my daughter and want the very best for her, so where in the world does a snarky, stupid statement like that come from? I usually blame it solely on myself, but the class on spiritual warfare is at least teaching me that I have a partner in this kind of behavior. I allow myself to be Balaam's ass for less than noble purposes. Yes, Satan is speaking through an ass, and it seems that the ass is me.

Fast forward now to the service at Woodland Hills this morning, in which Greg is teaching on using our imagination to truly connect with God. I sat and gave mental assent to everything he was saying, all the while realizing that my imagination has been almost solely devoted to my destruction, to driving me away from God all these years. Oh, not in a "Satan-worshiper, ouija board" kind of way, but rather imagining me as an object of scorn and wrath, someone who will never genuinely connect with God because God knows that I am lowlife scum of the earth. See how difficult it is to imagine yourself in love with and being loved by God when you can't stomach the images you see in your mind of the kind of person you are? Not easy. But these are the voices and images I deal with moment by moment, nearly every day, and have for as long as I can remember. It's really no wonder that my brain and emotions finally short-circuited and have left me paralyzed inside.

My brain is busy, it is full. Unfortunately, what it is busy with and full of are generally crap. Stuff so trivial and so wrong-minded, that what comes out (verbally and nonverbally) is usually embarrassing and hurtful. And to sum up part of the teaching this morning, it isn't going to get better by simply trying harder to be better or even to think better. I forgot to turn off the faucet and now the stuff is overflowing. Before my mind and my spirit can contain anything good, I need to begin to bail, to create space. I think that is my primary need and purpose as we begin this six week "Animate" journey together at Woodland Hills. I have to create space by emptying myself of some sources of prejudice against myself in order to really imagine me being intimate with and loved by God.

So, here is the basic agenda for the days ahead: start unloading. First, I need to stop using the internet as a crutch to distract me and keep me unfocused. I have to cut down on my idle usage of this wonderful land of make-believe. Along those lines, I really must pare down the amount of time I spend using entertainment technology. I don't need to watch everything that is on TV, in fact, I don't need to watch much of what is on TV. Once I hear one sports talk show, I have probably heard them all, so I don't need the noise and clutter of constant radio blab. My physical appetites create grief because I sit and eat...not celery and carrots, for sure...and gain weight, which reinforces just how much I hate myself. So I need to create some space by eating to live, not living to eat. The sitting simply compounds my basic lethargy, so in order to create physical and emotional space, I really have to start moving and "resisting" (using resistance training to build some physical strength). The journey of imagination begins not with filling up with more stuff to imagine but rather reimaging by creating space for the realities of a new imagination to dwell. Convoluted? Probably. But I think I understand what I'm trying to say. I'll keep you posted as to how it works out.