Ripping Away the Pages

Yesterday's old journal page ripped right out of the book when I opened it again.  What's that all about?  Should I be fanciful and think--what once was private can now move out of its niche to bless a larger realm?  Should I be pragmatic and think--this little cord of a bookmark is going to slice every page out of this journal if I don't quit using it?  Maybe the beauty is that I'm fine with it being either way--maybe that's how I stay both sane and spiritual.  (smile)  By the way, imbedded explanatory or reflective comments are listed in blue. 

July 21, 2002
It's Sunday, about 4 am.  We leave for church camp today, and for some reason I can't sleep.  (We served as camp counselors several years.  I was also in the earliest days of what would eventually become a sleep problem.)  I could really use the sleep, but I can't sleep.  Oh well, I know You'll get me through the day, Lord.

This morning as I read Matthew 8 about the two demon-possessed men who had their demons banished into pigs, pigs that plunged themselves off a cliff and died by drowning in the sea--as I read I notice that the townspeople heard what happened to the madmen and the pigs, and they got angry and told Jesus to "get out and not come back."  What?  Did the Hebrews eat pork?  I know they didn't sacrifice pork.  So who are the pig herdsmen? (Later, I added in the margin 'Jesus had gone into Gentile territory to rest.' Which in itself is an interesting concept to meditate upon--Jesus decided to go among the heathen for the purpose of resting? Who preaches a sermon that uses THAT as a bullet point?!?)  More importantly, how could they NOT react more strongly to the changed men than they did to the changed economy?  (I wonder if today I'd be as surprised at this?  Life in my society has changed a lot in the past 10 years, or maybe it is I that have become more cynical.) Here was a reminder for Jesus, right after the dedicated following who climbed with Him for the sermon on the mount.  Did He think "I will cast out evil, but it rips away at a price.  Everything that happens affects other things around it--especially in terms of spiritual warfare.  There will always be those more disturbed by the effect than appreciative of the cause of a freedom-change."  He had to be thinking, processing information that prepared him for later, larger rejections.  Did He think that way, God?  Did he "learn" that way? 
Help me, Lord, to take no notice of what happens with my lost pigs.  May I always instead see the cleansed madmen, that I might not fail to see Your miraculous work in my world!
Where do I see myself noticing pigs first in this day?  Maybe in my thoughts that You should just turn your back on a worm like me.  My amazement that you don't turn away from me--does this reveal a seed of self-importance?  Do I really think I should be able to, if not be Your equal, at least clean myself up well enough to attend Your party on my own merits?  If I can just see how to let go of this it will be a deep freedom, I think, but it is a paradox that easily paralyzes.  Can I accept Your attitude toward me just as I am?  It on the surface seem to lack the humility necessary to please You.  On the other hand, it feels alright to say, "You made me, Lord.  You know me.  I'm free to be much less than You are without embracing shame over it, without being paralyzed by my own ineptness.  I can assume all my metal that needs purifying is in good hands with You, and I don't have to worry about it."
This is a joy.  I'm not sure I've hit the high-water mark on it yet.  It's a release to Your omnipotence I'm only starting to make.
I suppose this is where the pigs end up being more important than their Creator in my own world.

Walking in this truth is an ongoing struggle even yet in my life.  I get momentary breaks in the clouds when I see the light of this idea of acceptance of my frailty and imperfection, but I've always been such a "do-er" and an "excel-er"in life.  It's not that I want to feel better than others, but that for some strange reason the "bare minimum" for me feels a lot less gracious than what I accept as the minimum for others.  This must be some agreement I made with life about my role so long ago that most of the time I make decisions and commitments completely oblivious to its whisperings, and that leaves me exhausted.  
So You have stripped away--more and more.  Over this decade, I've lost a lot of what I was, and I see in retrospect that I should not despair of this loss. You led me this route, I expect, so that by default I might get at least a little curious about the who I am that is left.  Not quick the paraplegic I imagined in the entry described yesterday, but leaning just far enough that direction to learn a little something...  
To help me, You stripped away much of my personal "industry" so that as a Proverbs 31 woman, I don't "measure up" so well anymore.  Still, I think it is progress I'm making; only it is progress along a trace rather than along a well-known highway. 
I'm OK with that.