This song pretty much sums up what I am feeling right now. Some addictions are good!
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Laughing Through My Troubles
Jesus, take the wheel because I'm about to run somebody over!
Well, I knew the day was fast approaching. If you have been reading my posts lately, you'll know about the drama I've been experiencing lately in a certain sector of my life. Unfortunately, due to the fact that this blog is accessible to everyone I can't get into the gory details but believe me when I tell you things are fast coming to a head. The boom is about to drop and when the dust settles it is anybody's guess who will still be standing. This I know for certain, even if my enemy seems to get the upper-hand, I am going to put all my trust in God and come through this like gold refined through the fire. God gives and takes away but He never abandons or forsakes us...never. He sticks closer than a friend. A close friend at that.
If you are reading this and you are a praying person, would you join me in my only request at the moment? I am praying for a pure heart, a heart that will bless and not curse. Please lift me up in this because deep down I want to justify myself and blast whoever is treating me unfairly. Lies are being leveled against me. My integrity and character are being maligned. Understandably, I want to stand up and say: "Bitch! Who do you think you are messing with?" Want to go there so badly but I realize it will only make matters worse. Just because my flesh and heart want to explode and unite and start a riot does not mean I have to go along with it. Besides, my heart is already floating with enough notions of hate and adding actions behind it will serve no good whatsoever. So I write about it and expose it to the light, leaving it there to burn up and wither away.
I'm at the place in my life where I can almost feel eternity brushing the top of my head. A deep sense of what lies on the other side of these momentary troubles has overcome and gripped my soul. I am more convinced than ever how this life is nothing more than a dress rehearsal for the truly amazing life that is yet to come. Everything here on this earthly plane is but a foretaste. Soon, be it tomorrow, a week from now, or one hundred years from now, I will finally stand beyond the veil and look fully on the face of Redeeming Love. This being my sense of reality, I need to stop and refrain from sinning in my anger because I want to do what is right. I want to hear God say of me: "Well done, good and faithful servant".
I have relieved that moment countless times in my mind and spirit; me entering to thunderous applause from countless angels who welcome me into the holy space of the ancient Throne. I finally catch a glimpse of my King and as our eyes meet, my face awash in tears of gratitude, He suddenly places his hand on his chest and as if to stop his heart from beating out of his chest suddenly throws back his head and lets out the most infectious exuberant laugh. The sound I have always heard but until then never realized was His laugh manifesting in and through me. Then, together at last, will we laugh in unison over our enemies; those who foolishly thought they could keep us apart. Ha!
Going to do my part here to keep my composure and bless those who curse and persecute me because no matter what, from this experience I am learning that I am loved and cared for.
No weapon formed against me shall prosper!
I am overcoming by the word of my testimony...
Those who put their hope in God, will never be put to shame.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Well, I knew the day was fast approaching. If you have been reading my posts lately, you'll know about the drama I've been experiencing lately in a certain sector of my life. Unfortunately, due to the fact that this blog is accessible to everyone I can't get into the gory details but believe me when I tell you things are fast coming to a head. The boom is about to drop and when the dust settles it is anybody's guess who will still be standing. This I know for certain, even if my enemy seems to get the upper-hand, I am going to put all my trust in God and come through this like gold refined through the fire. God gives and takes away but He never abandons or forsakes us...never. He sticks closer than a friend. A close friend at that.
If you are reading this and you are a praying person, would you join me in my only request at the moment? I am praying for a pure heart, a heart that will bless and not curse. Please lift me up in this because deep down I want to justify myself and blast whoever is treating me unfairly. Lies are being leveled against me. My integrity and character are being maligned. Understandably, I want to stand up and say: "Bitch! Who do you think you are messing with?" Want to go there so badly but I realize it will only make matters worse. Just because my flesh and heart want to explode and unite and start a riot does not mean I have to go along with it. Besides, my heart is already floating with enough notions of hate and adding actions behind it will serve no good whatsoever. So I write about it and expose it to the light, leaving it there to burn up and wither away.
I'm at the place in my life where I can almost feel eternity brushing the top of my head. A deep sense of what lies on the other side of these momentary troubles has overcome and gripped my soul. I am more convinced than ever how this life is nothing more than a dress rehearsal for the truly amazing life that is yet to come. Everything here on this earthly plane is but a foretaste. Soon, be it tomorrow, a week from now, or one hundred years from now, I will finally stand beyond the veil and look fully on the face of Redeeming Love. This being my sense of reality, I need to stop and refrain from sinning in my anger because I want to do what is right. I want to hear God say of me: "Well done, good and faithful servant".
I have relieved that moment countless times in my mind and spirit; me entering to thunderous applause from countless angels who welcome me into the holy space of the ancient Throne. I finally catch a glimpse of my King and as our eyes meet, my face awash in tears of gratitude, He suddenly places his hand on his chest and as if to stop his heart from beating out of his chest suddenly throws back his head and lets out the most infectious exuberant laugh. The sound I have always heard but until then never realized was His laugh manifesting in and through me. Then, together at last, will we laugh in unison over our enemies; those who foolishly thought they could keep us apart. Ha!
Going to do my part here to keep my composure and bless those who curse and persecute me because no matter what, from this experience I am learning that I am loved and cared for.
No weapon formed against me shall prosper!
I am overcoming by the word of my testimony...
Those who put their hope in God, will never be put to shame.
"I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. "-Jeremiah 29:11 (The Message)
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
In Pursuit of Healthy Loneliness
I attended my first Single's Retreat in I don't know how long. I have avoided such events like the plague. The reason for such aversion is due to my misguided fear such events are nothing more than "hook-up" events where I would feel completely inadequate and ill-equipped. While some people may go to "Singles" events with that purpose in mind it is completely unfair of me to think that everyone I would meet would be looking for the magical diamond ring on their left finger. I can be so critical and judgmental whenever confronted by my fears. I tend to project on others in order to avoid looking within myself. I am always terrified of what I will find inside the dark places of my heart. If it were not for God's love always meeting me in the overwhelming darkness, I might never find my way out. But I do, time and time again, emerging from the tomb of my damaged emotions having heard the voice of my Friend calling me out. I can't help but respond to the sound of His voice- makes me overcome my grave clothes. He fills me with faith and always covers my nakedness.
I was able to see this past weekend that I am not as alone as I often feel. The fact that I am single and presently am faced with the possibility of remaining single for the rest of my life does not disqualify me from being in loving community with others. I am just as much a valued and integral member of my community as any other married person. If I allow it, I am able to see the awesome gift I have been given in my singleness. Just because I do not have a partner does not mean I am incomplete or lacking. I can still be whole and effective in life without a partner...if I allow myself to be.
This weekend I met people just like myself...going through their own struggles and issues. I met people who in sharing their hearts with me told me they can go weeks without having any significant amount of touch and affection from others. It broke my heart to hear this. I wanted to empathize with them and say "Me too" but as lonely as I may feel at times, I am not deficient of wholesome embraces and touch. God has faithfully placed me, "the lonely", amongst loving families. He has given me amazing friends, neighbors, co-workers and adopted households.
I have friends who know me and see me as I am and still love me- even when I turn on them out of fear and frustration. I think of those in my life right now who meet with me and allow me the joy and comfort of their loving and nurturing embraces. We spend quality time together and share with one another from the heart.
Even though I am going through a rough patch at my workplace I have to admit I have incredible co-workers. Selfless. Loving. Affirming. Gracious towards me. Always available to receive a peck on the cheek and a cheerful hug. I appreciate them for letting me be me and the privilege of sharing in their joys and sorrows.
It turns out this past weekend was in fact an amazing time of fellowship, strengthening of friendships, new connections, and reassurance that God faithfully "places the lonely in families". I am in a good place to say the least. Learning to embrace my singleness while reaching out to others in the pursuit of healthy community. I am very excited to see what the near future holds (can't believe I just wrote that). What a difference a day makes.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I was able to see this past weekend that I am not as alone as I often feel. The fact that I am single and presently am faced with the possibility of remaining single for the rest of my life does not disqualify me from being in loving community with others. I am just as much a valued and integral member of my community as any other married person. If I allow it, I am able to see the awesome gift I have been given in my singleness. Just because I do not have a partner does not mean I am incomplete or lacking. I can still be whole and effective in life without a partner...if I allow myself to be.
This weekend I met people just like myself...going through their own struggles and issues. I met people who in sharing their hearts with me told me they can go weeks without having any significant amount of touch and affection from others. It broke my heart to hear this. I wanted to empathize with them and say "Me too" but as lonely as I may feel at times, I am not deficient of wholesome embraces and touch. God has faithfully placed me, "the lonely", amongst loving families. He has given me amazing friends, neighbors, co-workers and adopted households.
I have friends who know me and see me as I am and still love me- even when I turn on them out of fear and frustration. I think of those in my life right now who meet with me and allow me the joy and comfort of their loving and nurturing embraces. We spend quality time together and share with one another from the heart.
Even though I am going through a rough patch at my workplace I have to admit I have incredible co-workers. Selfless. Loving. Affirming. Gracious towards me. Always available to receive a peck on the cheek and a cheerful hug. I appreciate them for letting me be me and the privilege of sharing in their joys and sorrows.
It turns out this past weekend was in fact an amazing time of fellowship, strengthening of friendships, new connections, and reassurance that God faithfully "places the lonely in families". I am in a good place to say the least. Learning to embrace my singleness while reaching out to others in the pursuit of healthy community. I am very excited to see what the near future holds (can't believe I just wrote that). What a difference a day makes.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Facebook Fever
Having given up Facebook for Lent is killing me! I feel like I am missing out on so much. I'm not sure what it is but it "feels" like something big. I keep having to tell myself: "if anything major happens I will definitely hear about it". At least I hope so.
Feeling a bit cut-off from the rest of the world. Ridiculous, I know but it just goes to show you how addicted I was to Facebook and all the escape it provided me. I could and would get lost for hours on end playing Farmville, looking at people's photo's, searching news feeds, and once in awhile chatting. The latter became too much for me since I have a hard time concentrating for too long yet suck at multi-tasking. Go figure.
I gave up Facebook in order to make more room to concentrate on other things but it seems I spend most of my time wondering, thinking, wishing I was logged on instead of doing the other things I was hoping to get around to doing. Granted, I have been blogging and writing more, which is a good thing but I definitely feel out of sorts at the moment. Friendster and Myspace never had me like this. Praying for my fever to subside.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Feeling a bit cut-off from the rest of the world. Ridiculous, I know but it just goes to show you how addicted I was to Facebook and all the escape it provided me. I could and would get lost for hours on end playing Farmville, looking at people's photo's, searching news feeds, and once in awhile chatting. The latter became too much for me since I have a hard time concentrating for too long yet suck at multi-tasking. Go figure.
I gave up Facebook in order to make more room to concentrate on other things but it seems I spend most of my time wondering, thinking, wishing I was logged on instead of doing the other things I was hoping to get around to doing. Granted, I have been blogging and writing more, which is a good thing but I definitely feel out of sorts at the moment. Friendster and Myspace never had me like this. Praying for my fever to subside.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I Live to Sing Another Day
Nothing is worse than to look in the mirror and be disgusted at what you see.
I sometimes fall into the grave error of wanting and thinking I can be everything everybody else wants me to be. It causes me so much grief at not being able to meet up to the expectations of others. Friends who want you to be a better friend. Relatives who expect you to be and act towards them a certain way. Colleagues at work who leave little or no room for error in your work performance. Brothers and Sisters who are hurting, seeking answers, and look to you and your spiritual gifts to provide them what they are lacking. The list goes on and on and after awhile you find yourself so thinly spread out you wonder if anything will be left of yourself in the end to meet your own needs. How do you stop a runaway train? How do you slow down long enough to regroup and reassess your situation before having to take off running again? The answer I find in my own personal life, time and time again, is a resounding "I can't" but I know who can.
In a world where "self-divinity" (the belief that you are your own master and god) is gaining greater acceptance and as people abandon the old "archaic" ways of religion, which traditionally espouse complete and utter dependence on a higher power, I find myself, yet again, in the minority. I tried the whole "look at me...I am a god" way of thinking and living only to find myself screwing things up even worse. If I am my own god then I definitely don't have what it takes to make it on my own. This "I am a god" business may work for some but it has done absolutely nothing for me but further confirm in my being that I am not not my own. That I suck at divinity in and of myself. Everything in me testifies to the need for a helper and savior- a greater power outside of myself.
These last few days have proven to me yet again, how when I take my eyes off of God and place them on myself and my own shortcomings, I end up losing sight of what truly matters most. He came to lead the way, to show me by example the path I should walk and abide in. Unfortunately for me, this path does not come easy for me to walk out. It is not impossible though. It gets easier as I yield and learn to submit but every so often I get a case of "holy amnesia" and commit unholy acts. Actions that produce shame and guilt, which if not dealt with can and will drag me to the bottom and rob me of hope to ever get back up again.
But I get up.
I stand to my feet and call on His name...not mine.
I remind myself how much He loves me. How He cares and watches over me.
Wait patiently for Him to lift me up.
So I stand in the darkness and take courage.
Sing a song of trust as I wait for His radiance.
The light of His truth sets me free from unspoken shame
And I rise up, rise up, on wings of eagles
high above the lying and deceitful traps
and live to sing another day of His great mercy and grace.
Won't you rise up with me and together let us find rest.
The Lord of the Angel-Armies will soon reveal His glory
in us His eternal place of joy and rest.
Him in us, the Hope of Glory.
Glory.
Glory.
I sometimes fall into the grave error of wanting and thinking I can be everything everybody else wants me to be. It causes me so much grief at not being able to meet up to the expectations of others. Friends who want you to be a better friend. Relatives who expect you to be and act towards them a certain way. Colleagues at work who leave little or no room for error in your work performance. Brothers and Sisters who are hurting, seeking answers, and look to you and your spiritual gifts to provide them what they are lacking. The list goes on and on and after awhile you find yourself so thinly spread out you wonder if anything will be left of yourself in the end to meet your own needs. How do you stop a runaway train? How do you slow down long enough to regroup and reassess your situation before having to take off running again? The answer I find in my own personal life, time and time again, is a resounding "I can't" but I know who can.
In a world where "self-divinity" (the belief that you are your own master and god) is gaining greater acceptance and as people abandon the old "archaic" ways of religion, which traditionally espouse complete and utter dependence on a higher power, I find myself, yet again, in the minority. I tried the whole "look at me...I am a god" way of thinking and living only to find myself screwing things up even worse. If I am my own god then I definitely don't have what it takes to make it on my own. This "I am a god" business may work for some but it has done absolutely nothing for me but further confirm in my being that I am not not my own. That I suck at divinity in and of myself. Everything in me testifies to the need for a helper and savior- a greater power outside of myself.
These last few days have proven to me yet again, how when I take my eyes off of God and place them on myself and my own shortcomings, I end up losing sight of what truly matters most. He came to lead the way, to show me by example the path I should walk and abide in. Unfortunately for me, this path does not come easy for me to walk out. It is not impossible though. It gets easier as I yield and learn to submit but every so often I get a case of "holy amnesia" and commit unholy acts. Actions that produce shame and guilt, which if not dealt with can and will drag me to the bottom and rob me of hope to ever get back up again.
But I get up.
I stand to my feet and call on His name...not mine.
I remind myself how much He loves me. How He cares and watches over me.
Wait patiently for Him to lift me up.
So I stand in the darkness and take courage.
Sing a song of trust as I wait for His radiance.
The light of His truth sets me free from unspoken shame
And I rise up, rise up, on wings of eagles
high above the lying and deceitful traps
and live to sing another day of His great mercy and grace.
Won't you rise up with me and together let us find rest.
The Lord of the Angel-Armies will soon reveal His glory
in us His eternal place of joy and rest.
Him in us, the Hope of Glory.
Glory.
Glory.
T.G.I.S. (Thank God It's Sabbath)
I've been asked to write and share about my Sabbath-keeping experience. I am more than happy to do so but before I get into it I need to clear the air surrounding the subject. How can something so good and wholesome create so much tension and resistance? This has been the question I have wrestled with these last few days in regards to New Life Fellowship’s initiative and invitation to keep Sabbath during this Lent season. Time and time again, I have found myself having to defend my decision to keep Sabbath (a twenty-four hour period of uninterrupted nothingness and rest). I have met a great deal of opinions and negativity (from non-New Life members) when I have shared about my recent journey and struggles in getting to know Jesus more intimately and personally through Sabbath-keeping.
It seems I have spent a great deal of time having to justify my decision to observe Sabbath. There are very strong opinions on the matter. I'm still processing the emotions that are swirling inside me and since I am committed to a gentler, kinder "Idilio" I have chosen to sit it out for the time being and not respond with my gut reaction. With that said, I am praying for wisdom in how to respond to the nay-sayers and critics regarding my personal free will choice to incorporate Sabbath. Suffice it to say, for the time being, yes it is annoying to me how something so wholesome and beneficial creates such controversy but I guess this is the way it is always with things that are worthwhile and meaningful.
I decided (a few months ago) to get into the weekly habit of committing to a Sabbath. Well guess what? I found it almost near impossible to stop, rest, contemplate, and delight. Looking back, I remember vividly the inner struggle I was confronted with when I decided to say yes to the experimental invitation of observing the Sabbath. The first hurdle I recall having to overcome was my aversion to silence. I am not a friend of silence. If you know me you can attest to my personal preference for all things loud. I laugh hard. I walk and run heavy footed. I love to lift my voice in resounding booming prayer. I never have a problem raising my voice but feel like I am being punished when asked to observe silence. I prefer shouting for joy over contemplation any day of the week!
I am a friend of noise.
Maybe, I'm going deaf in my middle age but I like my music, TV, and conversations on high volume. I hate funerals and libraries. I can sleep through a howling thunderstorm. I love that the pipes clang and bang all through the night while I sleep. I cringe when Pastor Pete or Drew or Rich or anyone for that matter kindly requests we take a minute or two to observe silence. I find it almost impossible to center myself since I have lived my whole life off-balance. Only at bedtime is silence appropriate. This is me most days .ARE YOU SENSING MY NATURAL AVERSION TO SSHHH...quiet, please?
It has been a definite challenge to commit to slowing down, stopping, and turning the volume down.I hope to share with you in more detail my struggles and personal observations with Sabbath-keeping in future posts. I am writing a piece about my personal fears about silence and how facing it head on has set me on a smoother path to doing what I do best; the act of delighting (my favorite part of Sabbath). And yes, I am finding delight. I am discovering the rhythms God has uniquely placed in me and set aside for me to discover. But as I mentioned earlier and know personally to be true, everything worthwhile and of benefit must come at a price. The invitation to surrender is the willful act of stopping and resting. I am sure you the same is being asked of you and wondering if it is worth it. You alone can answer that for yourself. All I can do is share from my heart my own personal struggles with this alien concept called "Sabbath" and hope it encourages you in your own personal journey.
All I can tell you from where I stand, months into the practice, is that Sabbath is a two-way street and if given half the chance will undoubtedly produce divine encounters of the first kind; spirit to spirit lasting connections. I kid you not nor am I trying to sell you on this when I tell you that something is slowly happening to me that although too early to tell seems to have brought me closer to enjoying God and vice-versa. We serve The Lord of the Sabbath; the God who gives us rest on every side. We just have to simply say "yes" to His holy invitation and give it half a chance. Believe me, He will gladly do the rest and before you know it you will be counting the hours until you are seated around the table and about to light the Sabbath candle. What a welcoming and bright glow it does emanate to every burdened and weary heart.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
It seems I have spent a great deal of time having to justify my decision to observe Sabbath. There are very strong opinions on the matter. I'm still processing the emotions that are swirling inside me and since I am committed to a gentler, kinder "Idilio" I have chosen to sit it out for the time being and not respond with my gut reaction. With that said, I am praying for wisdom in how to respond to the nay-sayers and critics regarding my personal free will choice to incorporate Sabbath. Suffice it to say, for the time being, yes it is annoying to me how something so wholesome and beneficial creates such controversy but I guess this is the way it is always with things that are worthwhile and meaningful.
I decided (a few months ago) to get into the weekly habit of committing to a Sabbath. Well guess what? I found it almost near impossible to stop, rest, contemplate, and delight. Looking back, I remember vividly the inner struggle I was confronted with when I decided to say yes to the experimental invitation of observing the Sabbath. The first hurdle I recall having to overcome was my aversion to silence. I am not a friend of silence. If you know me you can attest to my personal preference for all things loud. I laugh hard. I walk and run heavy footed. I love to lift my voice in resounding booming prayer. I never have a problem raising my voice but feel like I am being punished when asked to observe silence. I prefer shouting for joy over contemplation any day of the week!
I am a friend of noise.
Maybe, I'm going deaf in my middle age but I like my music, TV, and conversations on high volume. I hate funerals and libraries. I can sleep through a howling thunderstorm. I love that the pipes clang and bang all through the night while I sleep. I cringe when Pastor Pete or Drew or Rich or anyone for that matter kindly requests we take a minute or two to observe silence. I find it almost impossible to center myself since I have lived my whole life off-balance. Only at bedtime is silence appropriate. This is me most days .ARE YOU SENSING MY NATURAL AVERSION TO SSHHH...quiet, please?
It has been a definite challenge to commit to slowing down, stopping, and turning the volume down.I hope to share with you in more detail my struggles and personal observations with Sabbath-keeping in future posts. I am writing a piece about my personal fears about silence and how facing it head on has set me on a smoother path to doing what I do best; the act of delighting (my favorite part of Sabbath). And yes, I am finding delight. I am discovering the rhythms God has uniquely placed in me and set aside for me to discover. But as I mentioned earlier and know personally to be true, everything worthwhile and of benefit must come at a price. The invitation to surrender is the willful act of stopping and resting. I am sure you the same is being asked of you and wondering if it is worth it. You alone can answer that for yourself. All I can do is share from my heart my own personal struggles with this alien concept called "Sabbath" and hope it encourages you in your own personal journey.
All I can tell you from where I stand, months into the practice, is that Sabbath is a two-way street and if given half the chance will undoubtedly produce divine encounters of the first kind; spirit to spirit lasting connections. I kid you not nor am I trying to sell you on this when I tell you that something is slowly happening to me that although too early to tell seems to have brought me closer to enjoying God and vice-versa. We serve The Lord of the Sabbath; the God who gives us rest on every side. We just have to simply say "yes" to His holy invitation and give it half a chance. Believe me, He will gladly do the rest and before you know it you will be counting the hours until you are seated around the table and about to light the Sabbath candle. What a welcoming and bright glow it does emanate to every burdened and weary heart.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Monster in the Goblet with Ashes
I attended my first Ash Wednesday service tonight in over twenty-five years. Back then I was a child being brought up in the Roman Catholic faith. Never did quite understand what ashes had to do with attending church but as every dutiful and obedient Catholic is taught to do, I went to mass trailing after my grandmother to receive my mark. I stood close by behind her and imitated her actions. The long line made its way up the nave where a rosy cheeked priest in flowing garments, with a bowl in his hands, greeted the parishioners. I don't have a clue what the priest said to me when I finally made it to the front but I do remember leaving there looking like everyone else... black soot imprinted on my forehead in the shape of a cross.
If I recall correctly, this was one of the few times when I was able to join in with the adults since receiving communion was not yet open to me due to my young age. Back then, as today I wanted so much to belong. I wanted to be a part of something that everyone around me was participating in. Who wants to ever be left out? Not me. Not ever. So if ashes on the forehead was good enough for grandma and everyone else in Saint Anthony's Cathedral on Manhattan Avenue it was good enough for me. I wore my black mark with such pride. I remember getting home and running to my parent's bedroom to get a good look of myself in the mirror. That day way back when I looked like every other Catholic in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I was part of something bigger and greater than myself. I walked around all day with great pride showing off my charcoal cross with beaming and exultant pride.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
If I recall correctly, this was one of the few times when I was able to join in with the adults since receiving communion was not yet open to me due to my young age. Back then, as today I wanted so much to belong. I wanted to be a part of something that everyone around me was participating in. Who wants to ever be left out? Not me. Not ever. So if ashes on the forehead was good enough for grandma and everyone else in Saint Anthony's Cathedral on Manhattan Avenue it was good enough for me. I wore my black mark with such pride. I remember getting home and running to my parent's bedroom to get a good look of myself in the mirror. That day way back when I looked like every other Catholic in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I was part of something bigger and greater than myself. I walked around all day with great pride showing off my charcoal cross with beaming and exultant pride.
Well, there I stood tonight at my church, waiting patiently for Drew Hyun or Jackie Snapes, members of my church's Pastoral staff, to do the deed on my forehead. Unfortunately, tonight it was not like way back when I was a child. All the years of religious prejudice and intolerance, of being told from the fire and brimstone pentecostal pulpits of my youth how anything Catholic was of the devil and not worthy of imitating got the better part of me. I know this will sound silly to you but as I made my way to the front I was overcome with irrational fear. I could hear the fiery preacher of yesteryear leaning forward wide-eyed and desperate grabbing the microphone with one hand as he wiped the rivers of sweat running down his maniacal face, shouting at the top of his lungs for all in the Brooklyn night to hear: " She (the Catholic Church) is the Great Whore of the Book of Revelations where every type of demonic spirit and entity dwells!!! Come out of her! Come out of her, my people, or be damned to Hell with her if you don't!!!" Such fiery demonstration of passion wasted on tearing down the beliefs and practices of others. I am ashamed to have ever wholeheartedly partaken of such narrow-minded condemnation of my brothers and sisters in the Catholic faith. But what can you expect from an impressionable fifteen year old who wanted nothing more than to belong and be on the right side of God? Tonight, as the line slowly progressed and I inched closer to the goblet with ashes, I gave in to my fears and when it was finally my turn to be "ashed" I kindly requested it be placed on my right hand instead. Jackie obliged me and lovingly drew near to my ear as she prayed and reminded me that "from dust I was created and to ashes I would one day return " and boy would I be missed!" when that day comes. We both laughed and enjoyed the moment before I moved on and took my place on the next line, on my way to be reminded of my wedding vows to Jesus, my Fiery and passionate Bridegroom.
Looking back I see my folly, my despicable judgmental spirit that marred what would have been a perfect night of contemplative worship to my Lord. I publicly repent from ever using my "ruler"tonight to bash others made in His image. For with the same measure I judge others so shall I be judged, hence my heartfelt desire is to wield my ruler with mercy and let God do the perfect work of judging His creation as he alone sees fit. How I wish tonight I would have been able to step back and overcome my long held prejudices. I am amazed how the simple act of smearing ashes on a forehead can set people off and create towering walls of division. We think we know God's mind so well. We convince ourselves that our way of doing things is the only right and acceptable way. We even throw scripture around to justify our hatred and disapproval of others and mask it with righteous reverence unto God. But God sees through our denial and bullshit. There is no mocking God...none. He sees through it all and I can just imagine Him chuckling at our self-righteousness.
In my Father's House there are many rooms, which will be full of varying degrees of holy expressions of worship. If it were not so, Jesus would have never used this analogy of Heaven. If we think otherwise then we are sadly mistaken and in for a big let down. Each room will hold a facet of God's creative and expressible nature. The contemplative, the bombastic, the liturgical, the over the top, the serene, the hilarious, as well as the deafening silence will all have a place in my Father's holy mountain. And I want to be able to go in and out from each room with great ease and see the sacredness of it all...partake and be one with God's holy household. I want to be at home in every room. I want to savor every holy expression without fear or prejudice, without looking down at anything or anyone. Not that heaven will have any fear or prejudice but I definitely do not want to have to spend any moment of eternity having to be desensitized and re-programmed in order to enjoy God's fullness. I can in my finite imagination see rooms in Heaven where old men and women who were accustomed and convinced that demure and meek expressions of worship were the only acceptable forms pf reverence and worship, being shown images of Head-banger Angelic beings thrashing and moshing for Jesus....while in another room white aryans being shown moving images of Jesus with an Afro and skin as dark as night dancing the hustle...lol! Oh Heaven, I can only wonder what surprises and heart-stopping shocking things we will finally have to witness and even worse, for some, have to finally come to terms with.
Whether we like it or not, Heaven will have every imaginable expression of worship present. Angels will be shouting while others will be prostrate as if dead in their tracks. Incense will fill the air while peals of thunder and lightning will join shooting stars as they race forth to celebrate around the rainbow of colors surrounding the spinning throne of the Almighty. Spontaneous songs will be sung as well as perfectly orchestrated anthems. And there I hope to be, overcome with such fits of laughter and hysterics that any god-fearing librarian would drop dead in encountering.
Looking back I see my folly, my despicable judgmental spirit that marred what would have been a perfect night of contemplative worship to my Lord. I publicly repent from ever using my "ruler"tonight to bash others made in His image. For with the same measure I judge others so shall I be judged, hence my heartfelt desire is to wield my ruler with mercy and let God do the perfect work of judging His creation as he alone sees fit. How I wish tonight I would have been able to step back and overcome my long held prejudices. I am amazed how the simple act of smearing ashes on a forehead can set people off and create towering walls of division. We think we know God's mind so well. We convince ourselves that our way of doing things is the only right and acceptable way. We even throw scripture around to justify our hatred and disapproval of others and mask it with righteous reverence unto God. But God sees through our denial and bullshit. There is no mocking God...none. He sees through it all and I can just imagine Him chuckling at our self-righteousness.
In my Father's House there are many rooms, which will be full of varying degrees of holy expressions of worship. If it were not so, Jesus would have never used this analogy of Heaven. If we think otherwise then we are sadly mistaken and in for a big let down. Each room will hold a facet of God's creative and expressible nature. The contemplative, the bombastic, the liturgical, the over the top, the serene, the hilarious, as well as the deafening silence will all have a place in my Father's holy mountain. And I want to be able to go in and out from each room with great ease and see the sacredness of it all...partake and be one with God's holy household. I want to be at home in every room. I want to savor every holy expression without fear or prejudice, without looking down at anything or anyone. Not that heaven will have any fear or prejudice but I definitely do not want to have to spend any moment of eternity having to be desensitized and re-programmed in order to enjoy God's fullness. I can in my finite imagination see rooms in Heaven where old men and women who were accustomed and convinced that demure and meek expressions of worship were the only acceptable forms pf reverence and worship, being shown images of Head-banger Angelic beings thrashing and moshing for Jesus....while in another room white aryans being shown moving images of Jesus with an Afro and skin as dark as night dancing the hustle...lol! Oh Heaven, I can only wonder what surprises and heart-stopping shocking things we will finally have to witness and even worse, for some, have to finally come to terms with.
Whether we like it or not, Heaven will have every imaginable expression of worship present. Angels will be shouting while others will be prostrate as if dead in their tracks. Incense will fill the air while peals of thunder and lightning will join shooting stars as they race forth to celebrate around the rainbow of colors surrounding the spinning throne of the Almighty. Spontaneous songs will be sung as well as perfectly orchestrated anthems. And there I hope to be, overcome with such fits of laughter and hysterics that any god-fearing librarian would drop dead in encountering.
My personal prayer is that God will set me free from my man-made traditions and biases and bring me to a place where I will be able to worship Him in Spirit and in Truth. Honestly, I do not know what that looks like yet because I am too full of my own carnal understanding and pride to see clearly beyond the veil. But this I know, I press on to know Him in all His fullness even if it causes the daughters of Propriety to deride me and the sons of Solemnity to shun me. So be it. Not only am I looking forward to being set free from the opinion of others but I am longing for the day when I will no longer be swayed by the definitions set forth by others regarding what is acceptable in God's House.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: "His House, His rules."
My sincere apologies to my Catholic brethren.
And for those who still can't see what ashes has to do with worshiping the Living God, well you need go no further than the House of Israel who whenever they were brought to that place of repentance would put on sackcloth and ashes as a visible symbol of their repentant hearts. This my friend is what the Season of Lent is all about, a time to reflect and seek heartfelt repentance in preparation for the day when we as Christians celebrate and commemorate the Resurrection of our Savior. In my life, He is worthy of my time and effort even if it means I will be labeled and misunderstood.
...As my brother Anthony Astorga jokingly says: "You don't know me!"I say likewise as I go my merry way and follow the Lamb from death unto resurrection power.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Tears of Validation
I have cried a great deal today. Just one of those days when I can't help but be moved by what I focus and give my attention to. As easily as I cry, I wish it wasn't so awkward for me. I have never been comfortable with crying in public. I know this is due in part to my upbringing and the harsh consequences tears created for me. My mother, the most influential person in my childhood, always berated and chastised me whenever I would cry. She made it clear to me that boys should never cry. Never. Yet, I was never able to oblige her in this area of my life since I have always been the sensitive type. Sensitive to my own feelings and disappointments. Sensitive to those around me and a sucker for situations that called for handkerchiefs and the blowing of noses. This sensitivity would drive my mother insane with rage. I still shake my head at the memories of being reprimanded and physically punished whenever I cried. "I'll give you something to cry about" or "So you want to cry, do you?" always prefaced a slap or the sting of the belt buckle. Needless to say, this never worked and only made me cry all the more; each time she would react towards my tears with such negativity she unconsciously poured buckets of slimy shame over me. A shame that permeated my psyche and grew inside me like a thorn bush: prickly, uncomfortable, and at times unbearable to live with.
My father also had his share in my present unhealthy aversion to tears. Taking a page from the same parental manual, he would severely burn my flesh as a consequence to what came so naturally to me. If I cried in his presence or was informed by my mother I had at any point in the day cried, he would insult me and call me dreadful names, the likes of which I would be called for most of my life: "sissy", "little girl", "mamao" (loosely translated as one who sucks from a bottle), and whatever else came to his mind. in his attempt to "man me up" on several occasions he would place me in a corner facing him. He would give the following instructions in his commando Spanish: " If one tear or sound come out of you, I will hit you even harder". He would then proceed to punch me and land blow after blow upon my body as I stood there wedged in the corner with my eyes tightly shut.
Amongst many things, I have my parents to thank for the high threshold to pain I possess today. It came in handy during my radiation treatment. As my urine and feces came out of me like the sharpest of razor blades, it wasn't until the very end of my treatment (when I had to be hospitalized and given morphine intravenously in order to cope with the pain) that I could take it no longer and required serious intervention. The searing pain became unbearable and I no longer could contain the shrieks and howls that escaped out of me during those hellish moments. Radiation had burned my flesh to the point that if you were to look at my nether regions you would have thought someone had poured scalding water on me or worse, put a hot iron to me.
Thankfully, no one dared tell me not to cry then. It was understood and expected of me and though I never witnessed it, I am almost positive they cried right along with me during those days. My parents, as well as my sisters, and brother-in-law rose to the occasion and rallied around me during this season when I stood closer than ever at death's door. Although they never said it, I could see the concern and worry tattooed in their facial expressions even as they made valiant efforts to remain cheerful in my presence. You see, good things do come out of bad situations.
I cried today at church like a loving father at his child's funeral. Try as I would, there was no concealing the pain and yearning deep inside me. Every love song sung by the worship team ran through my emotions like a romance novel where two lovers are separated and find themselves longing for each others embrace. I wanted desperately to feel God's tender touch. I longed to be held and comforted. I prayed for a glimpse of His love and it expressed itself in copious tears. Today was one of those days I wished for a prolonged time of worship. I wanted to "desahogarme" (pour out my troubles) and be emptied out once and for all. Peter seemed to have picked all the right songs today and for the first time in a long time I did not care who saw me cry. Okay, maybe I did a little but thankfully I positioned myself against the back wall of the Sanctuary and felt safe enough there to let it rip. I have christened one corner at the back of the church where, if need be, I can go and pull out my handkerchief and have a good cry. For some unknown reason I feel safe at this back spot and am able to let loose. This is also where I take my piece of bread dipped in grape juice and have communion with my Lord. Speaking of which, can I just tell you how validated I felt today by Pastor Pete's sermon? He outdid himself this morning when he preached his message entitled "WOW! I am married to Jesus!" Wow, indeed.
Earthly Marriage is an awesome institution and a precursor and reflective image of what Heaven will be like. The passion, faithfulness, fruitfulness and sexual intimacy which should be present in earthly marriages will definitely be present in our spiritual union with Christ for all of eternity. Is it any wonder that Jesus' arch rival is bent on destroying the sanctity of marriage here on Earth? He would love nothing more than to have us repudiate, curse, and fail miserably in our marriages. Marriage is so important to God that His enemy cannot help but try and destroy that very thing which is near to God's heart. My own feeble heart really, truly goes out to married couples. I see the struggle and the honor and everything else present in it that makes it so desirable to all types of people. I wept for joy over this deeper revelation.
Pete ended his sermon by illustrating that every time we partake of the bread and the wine (or grape juice as in my congregation's case) we are symbolically taking Jesus into ourselves. Pete equated it to sexual intimacy and union. I wonder how many people caught that? I was blown away. It all made so much sense to me why God insists we remain faithful to him and abstain from giving ourselves to anyone else but out of marriage. He is preparing us for celestial oneness with Him and since He is holy how then can he unite himself to someone who is not being holy in return...setting him or herself apart? I was so overcome with deepest appreciation and love this morning that I cannot wait to go out and replace the ring on my left hand for a more expensive and worthy one. If I glimpsed a little bit then, now I see more clearly and rejoice in my calling as the Bride of Christ.
What can I say, I look good in bridal white. Longing for that day when the Wedding Feast of the Lamb will be celebrated and our "I do's" be forever sealed in the presence of fiery angels where my Lover has gone ahead to prepare a place for me. Can't wait! Seriously...cannot wait. I am dying with anticipation and longing. I'm finally getting married someday! Soon, I hope and pray.
...Oh yeah, watched "Temple Grandin" again for the third time and bawled at the end, again. What an emotionally purging kind of day this has been. More importantly, today has been a validating kind of day manifested in tears. Tears of Validation.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
My father also had his share in my present unhealthy aversion to tears. Taking a page from the same parental manual, he would severely burn my flesh as a consequence to what came so naturally to me. If I cried in his presence or was informed by my mother I had at any point in the day cried, he would insult me and call me dreadful names, the likes of which I would be called for most of my life: "sissy", "little girl", "mamao" (loosely translated as one who sucks from a bottle), and whatever else came to his mind. in his attempt to "man me up" on several occasions he would place me in a corner facing him. He would give the following instructions in his commando Spanish: " If one tear or sound come out of you, I will hit you even harder". He would then proceed to punch me and land blow after blow upon my body as I stood there wedged in the corner with my eyes tightly shut.
Amongst many things, I have my parents to thank for the high threshold to pain I possess today. It came in handy during my radiation treatment. As my urine and feces came out of me like the sharpest of razor blades, it wasn't until the very end of my treatment (when I had to be hospitalized and given morphine intravenously in order to cope with the pain) that I could take it no longer and required serious intervention. The searing pain became unbearable and I no longer could contain the shrieks and howls that escaped out of me during those hellish moments. Radiation had burned my flesh to the point that if you were to look at my nether regions you would have thought someone had poured scalding water on me or worse, put a hot iron to me.
Thankfully, no one dared tell me not to cry then. It was understood and expected of me and though I never witnessed it, I am almost positive they cried right along with me during those days. My parents, as well as my sisters, and brother-in-law rose to the occasion and rallied around me during this season when I stood closer than ever at death's door. Although they never said it, I could see the concern and worry tattooed in their facial expressions even as they made valiant efforts to remain cheerful in my presence. You see, good things do come out of bad situations.
I cried today at church like a loving father at his child's funeral. Try as I would, there was no concealing the pain and yearning deep inside me. Every love song sung by the worship team ran through my emotions like a romance novel where two lovers are separated and find themselves longing for each others embrace. I wanted desperately to feel God's tender touch. I longed to be held and comforted. I prayed for a glimpse of His love and it expressed itself in copious tears. Today was one of those days I wished for a prolonged time of worship. I wanted to "desahogarme" (pour out my troubles) and be emptied out once and for all. Peter seemed to have picked all the right songs today and for the first time in a long time I did not care who saw me cry. Okay, maybe I did a little but thankfully I positioned myself against the back wall of the Sanctuary and felt safe enough there to let it rip. I have christened one corner at the back of the church where, if need be, I can go and pull out my handkerchief and have a good cry. For some unknown reason I feel safe at this back spot and am able to let loose. This is also where I take my piece of bread dipped in grape juice and have communion with my Lord. Speaking of which, can I just tell you how validated I felt today by Pastor Pete's sermon? He outdid himself this morning when he preached his message entitled "WOW! I am married to Jesus!" Wow, indeed.
Earthly Marriage is an awesome institution and a precursor and reflective image of what Heaven will be like. The passion, faithfulness, fruitfulness and sexual intimacy which should be present in earthly marriages will definitely be present in our spiritual union with Christ for all of eternity. Is it any wonder that Jesus' arch rival is bent on destroying the sanctity of marriage here on Earth? He would love nothing more than to have us repudiate, curse, and fail miserably in our marriages. Marriage is so important to God that His enemy cannot help but try and destroy that very thing which is near to God's heart. My own feeble heart really, truly goes out to married couples. I see the struggle and the honor and everything else present in it that makes it so desirable to all types of people. I wept for joy over this deeper revelation.
Pete ended his sermon by illustrating that every time we partake of the bread and the wine (or grape juice as in my congregation's case) we are symbolically taking Jesus into ourselves. Pete equated it to sexual intimacy and union. I wonder how many people caught that? I was blown away. It all made so much sense to me why God insists we remain faithful to him and abstain from giving ourselves to anyone else but out of marriage. He is preparing us for celestial oneness with Him and since He is holy how then can he unite himself to someone who is not being holy in return...setting him or herself apart? I was so overcome with deepest appreciation and love this morning that I cannot wait to go out and replace the ring on my left hand for a more expensive and worthy one. If I glimpsed a little bit then, now I see more clearly and rejoice in my calling as the Bride of Christ.
What can I say, I look good in bridal white. Longing for that day when the Wedding Feast of the Lamb will be celebrated and our "I do's" be forever sealed in the presence of fiery angels where my Lover has gone ahead to prepare a place for me. Can't wait! Seriously...cannot wait. I am dying with anticipation and longing. I'm finally getting married someday! Soon, I hope and pray.
...Oh yeah, watched "Temple Grandin" again for the third time and bawled at the end, again. What an emotionally purging kind of day this has been. More importantly, today has been a validating kind of day manifested in tears. Tears of Validation.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
When We Are Changed
I just finished watching the movie "Temple Grandin", a true life story about an autistic woman who through her autism and challenges wrought from it, was able to change the world around her and in so doing make this world a better place to live in. I love movies that speak in such a way and cause me to well up with tearful emotion. The last scene of this movie did just that and impacted me in such a way as to want to share with you the following personal truth. We are not put here to change but to be changed. This may sound simplistic but if you really think about it you will understand the deep revelation it brings.
Granted we must do our part in order to allow change to be effected in us but when I strive to change something on my own for no other purpose than to manipulate and control the outcome of things in my life, well, time and time again I will run into frustration and failure. Yes, I know of many who have the will power to change by mere determination and dogged persistence but I honestly believe this change does not produce the freedom and power which we were created for. Striving may produce change and some good ones at that but it cannot be the kind of change that sets you free to make a difference in the lives of those around you.
Case in point: I lived most of my life with the daily struggle of becoming the man I thought God wanted me to become. While I had a picture and sense of what this "man" was I continually found myself meeting up with never being able to meet up to the standards I believed I was being called to. Holiness, righteousness, integrity, truthfulness, etc. were all worthy character traits I desperately wanted to embody. I just didn't want to be called a follower and child of God but I wanted desperately to live the kind of life that would attest to this reality. My problem all along was I was trying desperately to change myself. I was going about things in my own strength and limited ability. Is it any wonder how I'd end up utterly miserable and frustrated? The man God was calling me to be, had destined me to be, and had made provision for me to become could only be brought about by simple and sincere submission to His ways and timing for my life. How many times do we fall into the mistake of thinking God really needs our help in bringing about His purposes? As if the God who made the heavens and the earth and everything in it needed me to come along and make things happen. How foolish of me even if it was well intentioned at times. I honestly thought I needed to help God along in the process. Legalism ("Do's" and "Dont's') have always looked attractive at first to mere mortals. We actually think that if we just follow a set of rules or many rules (however the case ay be) we will reach our desired goal...to be Like God. I guess it is this last point that has always turned me off about man-made rules or caused me to disagree with my New Age brothers and sisters. While I may be god-like and made in God's image, I can never be god...ever. When we say we are masters of our own destinies, well, to me, this is just legalism reversed; futile human attempts to be free and evolved. But I digress from my main point.
I desperately wanted to be the straight man God had created me to be. Or so I thought. Every time I fell into my gay tendencies this would set me off in a tailspin of utter despair and throw me into bouts of wanting and trying to change. Each and every time I would fall hard, never able to become the person God had created me to be. Whether you agree with me or not concerning my outspoken sexuality, I personally had to come to terms with my personal truth: whether or not created Gay I definitely was created to be in eternal fellowship with Jesus. While others struggled and grappled with the idea of whether God existed and if he had ever sent His Son to Earth to be offered up in mankind's place as the ultimate acceptable sacrifice and atonement, I on the other hand fell right into it and was able to embrace this mindset with very little effort. I mean, yes, I did go through my doubts and personal crisises of faith but in the end I bought into the whole redemption story and presently live my life from that other-worldly perspective. What I struggled with was that God could ever love me as a Gay man, especially a practicing Gay man, which until recently I was very much.
And this is where it gets convoluted and murky. While identifying as Gay I truly do believe, always have believed, God has called me to refrain from living out and proud as a Homosexual but to embrace my singleness and devote myself to celibacy. Please understand me, this is my personal truth. What applies to me may or may not apply to another Gay person. I refuse to allow myself to become anyone's poster child for what they consider should be the lifestyle of all gay people. In the end, we will all stand before God and He alone will then reveal what each and everyone of us... gay, straight, bi-, trans. questioning, asexual, metrosexual, hypersexual, and so on, were called to live out our lives as. This is the reason why I choose to embrace everyone regardless of their sexual preference and lifestyle because in the end God will have the final say. But again, I digress.
Very much like Abraham I too have believed God would bring me somehow to where I needed to be in life in order to be able to live my life as He intended for me to live it. And just like he was asked to offer up his son Isaac as a test, I believe God also asked me to offer up my sexuality and whatever rights I felt or thought I had a right to. In order to understand what I am saying you will have to temporarily turn off your mind and allow your heart to read on.
My bout with Anal Cancer was the very thing God used to show me that He alone was able to change me and not the other way around. By afflicting my flesh He was able to demonstrate to me that yes I was truly able to say no to my sexual urges, Up till then, before Cancer reared its ugly head, I believed wholeheartedly I did not have it in me to abstain from sexual pleasure. Well, here I am writing to you today, Cancer free and still abstinent fourteen months later from when my journey began. God used this method to prove to me that with His strength and power I could say no and mean it. I cannot tell you what will happen tomorrow but as of today, this moment, I am free from the need to give in to my sexual urges. Of course, every single day I wake up and feel only attraction to other men but I no longer have to act upon it. I see now I can truly live as a celibate man and be content in it.
I have not been put here to change but to be changed.
Whatever it requires and however long it takes, He is faithful to bring about the desired change necessary in my life. In this lifetime I will continue to struggle and be tempted, and even fall, but I have a God who loves me and accepts just as I am and is using everything in my life; my past, present, and future, to change me and mold me into who he alone has predestined me to become. With that said, I do not need to define myself by what others think or say concerning me so let the arguments and debates about whether I am gay or not rage around me. If God is for me, who can be against me? It is high time the Church and those in the Body of Christ begin to honestly deal with the issue of sexuality because it is not going to go away anytime soon. The longer we keep ourselves in the dark about it the longer the enemy will continue to abuse and taunt us; the ones endowed with His wisdom and love to bring freedom to countless others. May the Church finally take the lead and be the head in such matters.
Thank you God for HBO and movies like the one I just watched. Thank you for speaking to us through the most unconventional of ways. Thank you for letting me see you even when I think you will not be found. Thank you for being in the business of changing me and for granting greater freedom in the process. Thank you.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Granted we must do our part in order to allow change to be effected in us but when I strive to change something on my own for no other purpose than to manipulate and control the outcome of things in my life, well, time and time again I will run into frustration and failure. Yes, I know of many who have the will power to change by mere determination and dogged persistence but I honestly believe this change does not produce the freedom and power which we were created for. Striving may produce change and some good ones at that but it cannot be the kind of change that sets you free to make a difference in the lives of those around you.
Case in point: I lived most of my life with the daily struggle of becoming the man I thought God wanted me to become. While I had a picture and sense of what this "man" was I continually found myself meeting up with never being able to meet up to the standards I believed I was being called to. Holiness, righteousness, integrity, truthfulness, etc. were all worthy character traits I desperately wanted to embody. I just didn't want to be called a follower and child of God but I wanted desperately to live the kind of life that would attest to this reality. My problem all along was I was trying desperately to change myself. I was going about things in my own strength and limited ability. Is it any wonder how I'd end up utterly miserable and frustrated? The man God was calling me to be, had destined me to be, and had made provision for me to become could only be brought about by simple and sincere submission to His ways and timing for my life. How many times do we fall into the mistake of thinking God really needs our help in bringing about His purposes? As if the God who made the heavens and the earth and everything in it needed me to come along and make things happen. How foolish of me even if it was well intentioned at times. I honestly thought I needed to help God along in the process. Legalism ("Do's" and "Dont's') have always looked attractive at first to mere mortals. We actually think that if we just follow a set of rules or many rules (however the case ay be) we will reach our desired goal...to be Like God. I guess it is this last point that has always turned me off about man-made rules or caused me to disagree with my New Age brothers and sisters. While I may be god-like and made in God's image, I can never be god...ever. When we say we are masters of our own destinies, well, to me, this is just legalism reversed; futile human attempts to be free and evolved. But I digress from my main point.
I desperately wanted to be the straight man God had created me to be. Or so I thought. Every time I fell into my gay tendencies this would set me off in a tailspin of utter despair and throw me into bouts of wanting and trying to change. Each and every time I would fall hard, never able to become the person God had created me to be. Whether you agree with me or not concerning my outspoken sexuality, I personally had to come to terms with my personal truth: whether or not created Gay I definitely was created to be in eternal fellowship with Jesus. While others struggled and grappled with the idea of whether God existed and if he had ever sent His Son to Earth to be offered up in mankind's place as the ultimate acceptable sacrifice and atonement, I on the other hand fell right into it and was able to embrace this mindset with very little effort. I mean, yes, I did go through my doubts and personal crisises of faith but in the end I bought into the whole redemption story and presently live my life from that other-worldly perspective. What I struggled with was that God could ever love me as a Gay man, especially a practicing Gay man, which until recently I was very much.
And this is where it gets convoluted and murky. While identifying as Gay I truly do believe, always have believed, God has called me to refrain from living out and proud as a Homosexual but to embrace my singleness and devote myself to celibacy. Please understand me, this is my personal truth. What applies to me may or may not apply to another Gay person. I refuse to allow myself to become anyone's poster child for what they consider should be the lifestyle of all gay people. In the end, we will all stand before God and He alone will then reveal what each and everyone of us... gay, straight, bi-, trans. questioning, asexual, metrosexual, hypersexual, and so on, were called to live out our lives as. This is the reason why I choose to embrace everyone regardless of their sexual preference and lifestyle because in the end God will have the final say. But again, I digress.
Very much like Abraham I too have believed God would bring me somehow to where I needed to be in life in order to be able to live my life as He intended for me to live it. And just like he was asked to offer up his son Isaac as a test, I believe God also asked me to offer up my sexuality and whatever rights I felt or thought I had a right to. In order to understand what I am saying you will have to temporarily turn off your mind and allow your heart to read on.
My bout with Anal Cancer was the very thing God used to show me that He alone was able to change me and not the other way around. By afflicting my flesh He was able to demonstrate to me that yes I was truly able to say no to my sexual urges, Up till then, before Cancer reared its ugly head, I believed wholeheartedly I did not have it in me to abstain from sexual pleasure. Well, here I am writing to you today, Cancer free and still abstinent fourteen months later from when my journey began. God used this method to prove to me that with His strength and power I could say no and mean it. I cannot tell you what will happen tomorrow but as of today, this moment, I am free from the need to give in to my sexual urges. Of course, every single day I wake up and feel only attraction to other men but I no longer have to act upon it. I see now I can truly live as a celibate man and be content in it.
I have not been put here to change but to be changed.
Whatever it requires and however long it takes, He is faithful to bring about the desired change necessary in my life. In this lifetime I will continue to struggle and be tempted, and even fall, but I have a God who loves me and accepts just as I am and is using everything in my life; my past, present, and future, to change me and mold me into who he alone has predestined me to become. With that said, I do not need to define myself by what others think or say concerning me so let the arguments and debates about whether I am gay or not rage around me. If God is for me, who can be against me? It is high time the Church and those in the Body of Christ begin to honestly deal with the issue of sexuality because it is not going to go away anytime soon. The longer we keep ourselves in the dark about it the longer the enemy will continue to abuse and taunt us; the ones endowed with His wisdom and love to bring freedom to countless others. May the Church finally take the lead and be the head in such matters.
Thank you God for HBO and movies like the one I just watched. Thank you for speaking to us through the most unconventional of ways. Thank you for letting me see you even when I think you will not be found. Thank you for being in the business of changing me and for granting greater freedom in the process. Thank you.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Cubicle Cry-Baby
I had a melt down today at work. Not an old-fashioned, no-holds barred kind of melt down, thankfully, but a sobbing, hyperventilating public display of snot drenched emotion. What a show. You should have been there to witness this thirty-nine year old grown man revert to being five years old all over again.
Due to the nature of my job and the confidentiality required in what I do I cannot give you the gory details that led up to my breakdown but I will share with you what I was feeling leading up to it.
I arrived at the office this morning already feeling the stress and the tension of what lay ahead. Without going into the specifics of the case, I can tell you this; I was headed to my Director's office full of apprehension and dread. I knocked on the door and immediately made it known that the children placed in a particular home needed to be removed immediately. I had visited the home yesterday afternoon and upon inspecting the premises found the situation to be bordering on hazardous. In my field of work, hazardous translates into prompt removal of children. This is exactly what I was prepared to do. What I was not prepared for was what followed.
As has been the case in the last few weeks I was immediately held accountable for work I had not done but unfortunately had signed off on. Somehow, somewhere along the line, the home I had visited yesterday had been approved and licensed with some glaring deficiencies present in the home. I had never visited this home, which was why I decided that after placing children in the home the day before, I should ensure the home was safe. It wasn't. After pulling the file and reviewing its contents I immediately sprung into action. These kids needed to be removed immediately. Long story short, I was able to secure placement for the children and I am confident they are sleeping safe and sound tonight.
Did I get a pat on the back or a hearty "job well done" for springing into action and correcting someone else's mistake? Oh no, that would have been too hard a thing to do. Instead, I was given the customary stare of disappointment and disapproval followed by a peppering of questions as to why I allowed the children to be placed in this home to begin with. And this is when it happened. It started with the customary flush of heat rushing to my ears at being accusingly questioned, followed by the knot in my throat, precursor to the tears working their way through my system. I hate tears yet this is the one manifestation of emotion I do most easily. I can cry at the slightest provocation. Whenever I am able to suppress tears I consider it a monumental feat, to say the least. The only problem with holding back the floodgates is that more often than not, the gates come crashing down at the most inopportune times. Today was a classic example.
I sobbed uncontrollably and the harder I tried to suppress it the more pronounced the heaving and shaking that accompanied my out of control lachrymal display became. By the time I was able to stop and bring myself under restraint I had several co-workers huddled around me rubbing my back, hugging me, affirming me, and bringing me water to drink. Why do people get offered water when they cry is beyond me but I obliged my comforters and drank. Looking back, the spectacle of it all must have been a sight to behold...five adults huddled around me, crowded in a cubicle made for only two people to be in at best. God bless my co-workers. I love them all. Everyone is always so supporting and caring, truly. If it weren't for this simple fact, I would never make it where I work and would have succumbed to the pressures of my job a long time ago. Sadly, I don't feel this way about my superiors. They all have one thing in mind and that is to meet their quotas. I guess this is the one thing that separates management from the frontline workers.
In the end, I made it home and made a bee line for the bed. I slept for three hours uninterrupted. I was emotionally exhausted and am extremely grateful the weekend is finally here. I got a feeling I'm going to do a lot more sleeping and crying. I'm extremely unhappy with my job. Thankful to have one but unsure as to how much I can handle. With the many changes going on as of late and the uncertainty hanging in the air I just don't know what will be the final outcome. I am walking on eggshells and the mood hanging over my workplace is definitely adding to the tension I have been feeling lately. There are other reasons but I can't get into it. I need to be careful with what and how I write since anyone can read this and the last thing I need is to create even more tension between me and my workplace masters. White -Collar slavery is alive and well. Oops! I think I've said too much.
I want to end this on an upbeat note but right now I'm feeling extremely hopeless and worn out. I do believe everything will work out for the best in the end, I truly do. I just pray God will not only see me through this rough season at work but also help me to grow in those areas I need positive change and freedom in. So my simple heartfelt prayer is this: help me not to run away from those things God is using to mold me and make me into all He has planned and prepared in advance for me to do!
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Due to the nature of my job and the confidentiality required in what I do I cannot give you the gory details that led up to my breakdown but I will share with you what I was feeling leading up to it.
I arrived at the office this morning already feeling the stress and the tension of what lay ahead. Without going into the specifics of the case, I can tell you this; I was headed to my Director's office full of apprehension and dread. I knocked on the door and immediately made it known that the children placed in a particular home needed to be removed immediately. I had visited the home yesterday afternoon and upon inspecting the premises found the situation to be bordering on hazardous. In my field of work, hazardous translates into prompt removal of children. This is exactly what I was prepared to do. What I was not prepared for was what followed.
As has been the case in the last few weeks I was immediately held accountable for work I had not done but unfortunately had signed off on. Somehow, somewhere along the line, the home I had visited yesterday had been approved and licensed with some glaring deficiencies present in the home. I had never visited this home, which was why I decided that after placing children in the home the day before, I should ensure the home was safe. It wasn't. After pulling the file and reviewing its contents I immediately sprung into action. These kids needed to be removed immediately. Long story short, I was able to secure placement for the children and I am confident they are sleeping safe and sound tonight.
Did I get a pat on the back or a hearty "job well done" for springing into action and correcting someone else's mistake? Oh no, that would have been too hard a thing to do. Instead, I was given the customary stare of disappointment and disapproval followed by a peppering of questions as to why I allowed the children to be placed in this home to begin with. And this is when it happened. It started with the customary flush of heat rushing to my ears at being accusingly questioned, followed by the knot in my throat, precursor to the tears working their way through my system. I hate tears yet this is the one manifestation of emotion I do most easily. I can cry at the slightest provocation. Whenever I am able to suppress tears I consider it a monumental feat, to say the least. The only problem with holding back the floodgates is that more often than not, the gates come crashing down at the most inopportune times. Today was a classic example.
I sobbed uncontrollably and the harder I tried to suppress it the more pronounced the heaving and shaking that accompanied my out of control lachrymal display became. By the time I was able to stop and bring myself under restraint I had several co-workers huddled around me rubbing my back, hugging me, affirming me, and bringing me water to drink. Why do people get offered water when they cry is beyond me but I obliged my comforters and drank. Looking back, the spectacle of it all must have been a sight to behold...five adults huddled around me, crowded in a cubicle made for only two people to be in at best. God bless my co-workers. I love them all. Everyone is always so supporting and caring, truly. If it weren't for this simple fact, I would never make it where I work and would have succumbed to the pressures of my job a long time ago. Sadly, I don't feel this way about my superiors. They all have one thing in mind and that is to meet their quotas. I guess this is the one thing that separates management from the frontline workers.
In the end, I made it home and made a bee line for the bed. I slept for three hours uninterrupted. I was emotionally exhausted and am extremely grateful the weekend is finally here. I got a feeling I'm going to do a lot more sleeping and crying. I'm extremely unhappy with my job. Thankful to have one but unsure as to how much I can handle. With the many changes going on as of late and the uncertainty hanging in the air I just don't know what will be the final outcome. I am walking on eggshells and the mood hanging over my workplace is definitely adding to the tension I have been feeling lately. There are other reasons but I can't get into it. I need to be careful with what and how I write since anyone can read this and the last thing I need is to create even more tension between me and my workplace masters. White -Collar slavery is alive and well. Oops! I think I've said too much.
I want to end this on an upbeat note but right now I'm feeling extremely hopeless and worn out. I do believe everything will work out for the best in the end, I truly do. I just pray God will not only see me through this rough season at work but also help me to grow in those areas I need positive change and freedom in. So my simple heartfelt prayer is this: help me not to run away from those things God is using to mold me and make me into all He has planned and prepared in advance for me to do!
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Here I let Doves Fly and Dare to Bless
I have been consciously avoiding writing these last few days. A battle of wills has been raging deep inside me and time after time I have had to simply walk away from my fleshly desire to vent and rage against the injustice I feel is being perpetrated against me. I want desperately to rise up in my own strength like I know I am able to and blast a hole through the roof. But I won't. I choose not to even if it kills me. Funny how emotions the stronger they become tend to escalate with negative energy the more one attempts to suppress them. Deep down a voice continues to try and convince me I would be justified in speaking against those who are at present mistreating me.
I can only look back at the wreckage of past events in my life and quickly realize the lie and deception inherent in this line of thinking. I cannot recall one time in all my life when I have given in and let loose my rage where I have in the end walked away unscathed. When fire falls it lands on the just as well as the unjust. No one is safe, not even those I may consider innocent by-standers. So I fight the good fight within and without and say no to my burning desire to retaliate.
It may all sound great that I am opting to sit this battle out and let my trust and faith in God lead the way but I must confess it is taking a toll on me. Physically, I am drained. I want to run to all my old comforts and imbibe in their short-term ability to numb my feelings and emotions. Thankfully, I am a man hedged in on every side. The leash around my neck has been drastically shortened and try as I will, I cannot go or stray too far. So what do I do? I sleep a great deal. I count the hours when I can finally make it home after a stressful day at work, kick off my shoes and jump on the sofa and hide under the covers. When I'm not in a R.E.M. state you will find me in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. I want to eat my way through this season of discouragement and injustice. And when I'm done with stuffing my face, you will find me planting crops or building imaginary SIMcities.
It is during my bathroom breaks when I am unable to take all of the above with me that I finally allow myself to cry out for help to my Maker. How ironic...as I sit on the throne and do my business, I approach The Throne of Grace and make myself heard. I've even taped the Song "Wrap me in Your Arms" by Michael Gungor to the bathroom mirror and sing the lyrics soulfully whenever I am locked in this most holy room in my apartment. Here I let doves fly and dare to bless. I wrestle with my Angel and hold on till daybreak. For I know the sun will soon break forth and my weeping turn to joy. This is the cycle of things to those who put their hope in God. If I stay the course I will reap the faithful reward and cause the song in my heart to be made manifest...to be wrapped in the arms of love and become more like Him through the painful process.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
I can only look back at the wreckage of past events in my life and quickly realize the lie and deception inherent in this line of thinking. I cannot recall one time in all my life when I have given in and let loose my rage where I have in the end walked away unscathed. When fire falls it lands on the just as well as the unjust. No one is safe, not even those I may consider innocent by-standers. So I fight the good fight within and without and say no to my burning desire to retaliate.
It may all sound great that I am opting to sit this battle out and let my trust and faith in God lead the way but I must confess it is taking a toll on me. Physically, I am drained. I want to run to all my old comforts and imbibe in their short-term ability to numb my feelings and emotions. Thankfully, I am a man hedged in on every side. The leash around my neck has been drastically shortened and try as I will, I cannot go or stray too far. So what do I do? I sleep a great deal. I count the hours when I can finally make it home after a stressful day at work, kick off my shoes and jump on the sofa and hide under the covers. When I'm not in a R.E.M. state you will find me in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. I want to eat my way through this season of discouragement and injustice. And when I'm done with stuffing my face, you will find me planting crops or building imaginary SIMcities.
It is during my bathroom breaks when I am unable to take all of the above with me that I finally allow myself to cry out for help to my Maker. How ironic...as I sit on the throne and do my business, I approach The Throne of Grace and make myself heard. I've even taped the Song "Wrap me in Your Arms" by Michael Gungor to the bathroom mirror and sing the lyrics soulfully whenever I am locked in this most holy room in my apartment. Here I let doves fly and dare to bless. I wrestle with my Angel and hold on till daybreak. For I know the sun will soon break forth and my weeping turn to joy. This is the cycle of things to those who put their hope in God. If I stay the course I will reap the faithful reward and cause the song in my heart to be made manifest...to be wrapped in the arms of love and become more like Him through the painful process.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
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