Circle the Wagons

There's nothing better than watching a good Western on one of the movie channels. Whether it's John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, or James Stewart, I love the feel and spontaneity of the old West and the courage of the pioneers who had to fight for their land. Hundreds and hundreds of easterners made the decision to load up all their belongings, leave behind family and friends, and travel by wagon train out West to a new land and a new beginning.

It was inevitable and portrayed in a typical western flick, the wagon train was attacked and the cry went up , "Circle the wagons!" The strategy against foes like Native Americans and intruders was key - in making a circle with the covered wagons and hiding behind the carts, you had a better chance of protecting the people hiding inside the circle. At night when they were most vulnerable they would circle the wagons again to protect the livestock and supplies from raiders.

In the spiritual Godlife we many times practice the concept of "circling." With circling we purposefully build a wall around our true self for the express purpose of protecting our true self from being disclosed. Just like in the old West, we operate under the drive of fear - fear of rejection which leads to fear in our relationships. We work hard every day in order to keep the walls of the circle up of an image that is expected from others or an identity that is accepted by our friends and associates.

The underlying fear is that we will some day be discovered for who we really are.

God's love is not always touchable and is replaced by the pseudo-acceptance of more visible people that surround us in our world. They control our image, the image we have to maintain is always in the back of our minds. Like Native Americans on the prairie they always seem to be lurking in the distance instilling fear in our every move.

The opposite is true - the true experience of God's love within "centering" creates the freedom to be me without masks and performance. He loves you just as you are - that true person inside the circle.

God says, "Don't be afraid., I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine." (Isaiah 43:1b-2, The Message).

In the language of the old West, that's translated, "Don't be afeared, partner...I knows ya...I accepts ya...yer mine."

HeeeHa!

Cannibalism

The tragedies of Haiti have overtaken our emotions and caused us as Americans to rally around the ravaged country. We've been overwhelmed by mass graves, orphan children, and people without food. The pictures have moved many to donate resources, pray, and even to personally travel to the reeling country to volunteer help.

The hunger in Haiti is very real. People are walking the streets in search of anything to call food. While relief services are transporting tons of food to help feed the masses, the hunger pit seems bottomless. After eating today, the helpless hunger will return again tomorrow. the challenges ahead are centered in helping the people of Haiti develop new ways of feeding themselves in a country filled with rubble, unsanitary conditions, and disease.

In America, we have compassion for these tragic, helpless people. But the truth is that in many ways we have become hunger victims ourselves. I'm not talking about the food which is readily available at any number of dozens of food markets located within a short driving distance from our homes. Or the countless restaurants that dot the local landscape filled with hungry people that enjoy ordering more food than they can eat.

In America we are hungry to know ourselves. As individuals we chase the illusive "me" throughout our lives in a frantic daily sprint of activity that somehow creates an illusioned self. My job, my title, the things I've accumulated, my pleasures, all have become a food fix for trying to fill an empty stomach that seeks self-discovery and societal acceptance. We have become detached observers of our own lives caught in a squirrel cage, thinking that the constant squeaking of the wheel of our achievements is a verification of our reality and worth.

This chase motivated by hunger has actually eaten away at our true self as we are consumed by doubt and self-hate. We live in this sort of shadow existence in which we find our image self between our true self and God. As helpless observers, we watch ourselves living out a life we know to be a fragmented tragedy. This path of self hunger is not been relegated to non-Christians alone for it too has found its way into the church and consumed believers. The very thing we seek is being consumed by the drive to keep up an image. The result are lives filled with relational rubble and the disease of fearful rejection.

We have literally become cannibals of our true self.

Paul wrote, "Don't become so well adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead fix your attention on God." (Rom 12)

The journey out of daily hunger and self-cannibalism is not going to be the quick fix of an instant meal of what I do, what others think I am, or what I have. Under a culture that consumes us, we will constantly live under the temptation of the world of the false self as an answer to knowing the real me. Cultural values that surround us leads to a constant hunger to know the real me.

The true journey to know me is found in a life of centering in God because our true identity is found only in him. By means of silence and solitude we journey into ourselves.

It is only there our hunger can be satisfied.

That is counter-cultural...that is the Godlife.

Welcome Isabella!

"Yesterday was so scary and exciting for me. For so long all I have known was the warmth and security of dark comfort inside my mommy. She fed me everyday and kept me warm and secure as I was growing my little fingers and toes and yes, my dark hair. Instead of looking like either my mommy or daddy, I decided to look like both because I love them so much already!

Then in a matter of a short time it all changed. Mommy tried for over 38 hours to help me come into the light - she was so anxious and brave! I could hear daddy all the time helping her - I've loved hearing his voice and was so anxious to meet him. I can't wait to go on those dates and to hold his hand. And mommy, well she will have fun dressing me up like the little girl I am and showing me off to everybody - I think I will like that too!

When I did finally come out I heard my mommy cry so hard it scared me. I closed my eyes so tight because the light hurt as I poked my head out for the first time. It seemed so cold and scary that I cried and cried and cried. Then strange people cleaned me all up, wrapped me in a warm blanky, and then laid me on my mommy's chest and suddenly I remembered that familiar heartbeat. I've known it all my life until now. Mommy!

Then mommy's arms wrapped around me and I looked up at my mommy and for the first time realized, I'm finally here! Hello world! Daddy then held me and immediately I recognized his strong secure voice and looked into that handsome face for the first time. Hello daddy!

Then I saw my fingers and toes for the first time and realized how special of a creation I am to God. We've had such a wonderful time together for the last nine months and now I get to spend a lifetime getting to know him better and thanking him for doing such a good job making me. I love you God!

So many new people to meet in this brand new world. I can't wait to meet all my grandmas and grandpas, aunts, uncles...Wow, I'm tired already..being born and getting all this attention is such tiring work...time to sleep for now, but don't worry, you'll hear more from me real soon...I have a strong voice!"

Isabella Elizabeth Zakrzewski
Born Saturday, January 23rd at 5:07 pm
7 lb 10 oz, 19 inches


Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God - you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration - what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you;
The days of my life prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

Psalm 139

Muddy Pies

Within the last four months I have deeply plunged into the exciting world of cooking. Because I have been working out of our home and with Julie working at the Saltbox, I have been preparing dinners to be ready for her when she gets home. While I wouldn't considered any of these meals to be great works of art, it is still quite a step of growth for someone who pretty much only knew how to boil water to cook hotdogs!

All this cooking reminds me of my older brother. My brother cooked an apple pie for us once as kids and made us sit down and eat it completely. Normally this would be a good thing, but in this case he did not put together the ingredients correctly and so it tasted terrible. While he did not eat it himself, he stood over us younger siblings and made us eat every last bite. It looked OK on the outside but the inside was another matter. I guess my brother was exercising his rights as "lord of the pies".

For many years I have looked at myself sort of like a pie. The outside was covered with a thin layer of Christian frosting that would seem thick enough to pass me off as an angel food cake. But once you looked underneath the religious surface the contents of the pie were not as pleasing - in fact they were made of mud. I tried my best to keep the frosting intact for that special Christian appearance, but the mud still would seep through. The truth is that the false self underneath continuely rose to the surface of my fake veneer. That false self was the way I lived my life out of trusting in human resources. That Christian frosting was tough to maintain when all the while I actually was leaning on my self and not God. It was all a rather muddy affair!

What I needed was for God to take that mud and breathe into it the breath of life. That breathing was simply sitting close enough to him to feel his love-breath for me as I really am. When he wrapped his arms around me and sighed I knew that all frosting-fronts and muddy ingredients were no longer necessary. The mud could be transformed with the real self in its place. He loved me for who I really was and so I could trust him. With that God-breath came a shift from trust in myself and human resources into a radical trust in God. It was OK to be the real me because that was the person he created and loved.

While the pie is still baking in the oven the reality is that now what you see is what you get.

Happy 56th Jeffry!

When I was born (56 years ago today) I became Jeffry Zakrzewski, kicking and screaming the whole way. The doctor laid me naked upon a cold steel slab with lights surrounding me, hurting me. I was naked; totally naked for the whole world to see. The room's chill was deathly, and the doctor slapped me on the behind as a welcome into a world of pain. When I was introduced to my mother (since my father was in the waiting room), I was the baby who kept putting his hands into his mouth and then urinated in the incubator.

As I was curled in a small ball, I wondered, "Who was protecting me?" I was laid bare without any pretense or embarrassment with my manhood exposed and my disapproval loudly heard by the nurses and doctors. Then my parents had me circumcised without my consent. Apparently they didn't like the way I looked and right away I felt the pressure to conform to the other little boys. Pressure to conform is a lot to handle for a newborn infant who is a rookie to this fitting-in-game.

Not only was my entrance noisy and shocking but I also had to face the unbelievable future life of a name like Jeffry. Can you believe my mother misspelled my name on the birth certificate as Jeffry? It's Jeffrey, mother! And then I discovered that my middle name was Lynn - what kind of guys name was that! What happened to something strong like Brock or Max or Bronson? And then the final straw was my last name - Zakrzewski. Zak-whose-ski?! Was this some kind of cruel joke? Didn't they think of all the anxiety I would face explaining how to say my name? I would have to pick out a wife who is a former spelling bee champion or linguistic expert to live with that last name. It's no wonder my first girl friend, Betty Nutter, picked a guy with the same last name of Nutter to marry. What are the chances of me finding a girl with the same last name of Zakrzewski?

After my birthday, it's no wonder that I spent the rest of my life running from myself. I would leave that place covering up my nakedness with clothes of acceptance and approval. Any innocence left intact from my entrance into this world was simply the beginning of my life's journey. A journey to return to my being naked - my being me.

The We in Me

The road to being me is a journey that is often misunderstood. Because I live in a society in which I am indoctrinated with a focus on self-improvement, self-acceptance, self-help, and self-growth, the thought of another light shining on "being me" seems contradictory to the Biblical charge to "deny myself". The problem lies in the understanding of what denying myself means and it's relationship to community.

First, when Jesus shared that I was to "deny myself" He was not talking about stuffing myself out of sight in order to blend into a clone world of Jesus freaks. In fact the opposite is true. When I live in a world of true contemplation bathed in the light of the constant presence of God, I begin to be free from the fears of living lies and masks in order to be accepted by society and friends. This freedom to truly "be me" comes only from being with God honestly and openly and accepting His love. His presence breaks down those walls.

Secondly, as a contemplative I am not isolated in myself, but liberated from my external and egotistic masked self (the Biblical self denial) by humility and purity of heart (derived from a life of being with God). Therefore there is no longer any serious obstacle to simple and humble love of others. The more I am alone with God to learn how to be me, the more I am able to be my true self with others and the more freedom I have to unselfishly focus on serving people. I no longer have to fear what people think to cloud my service of love. I accept His love in order to channel that love to others.

So the opposite is true. To find the real me, I must sacrifice the masked me. When that false self with all it's fronts and pretenses is laid to rest, I can then live out of God's love freely to serve others. My life as a contemplative lived in an open world of serving others, leads to finding my true self and discovering others as we truly are. Here is the genuine reality of the free abundant life Jesus talked about!

Being me is meant to be experienced in the freedom and dynamic of being us.

Do You Know Who You Are?

We truly come to know ourselves in the context of others. The more isolated and disconnected we are, the more shattered and distorted our self-identity.
We are not healthy when we are alone.
We find ourselves as we connect to others.
Without community we don't know who we are.
Have you ever watched the early stages of American Idol - you know the part where unimaginably untalented people audition for the show? Have you ever wondered whether it's really possible that a person could be so unaware of a lack of talent? How could a person be twenty-four years old and not know? Didn't anyone ever bother to tell them? Wouldn't it be the loving thing to do? Yes, and that's the whole point. In a health context of loving relationships we come to know ourselves.
When we live outside of healthy community, we not only lose others,
but we lose ourselves.

God Wrestling

Like Jacob of old there are many days when I have wrestled with God. Usually it's because I want my own way or I desire for God to bless my own way. God's response is to stalemate me, wear me out, and touch me at the point of my weakness. That weakness becomes a reminder of everything in life I am not able to control. The resulting daily limp becomes my bulletin board with a message that in my weakness He is strong and present. With every touch He releases my identity that He has made me to be. I am truly being me. In my wrestling I usually ask God to make me into someone else - bless me! He comes back and says, "I am your ABBA Father, your Daddy. I know all about you, made you, and love you for who you are." Everyday in my moments of solitude and then daily as I live life, I wrestle with God over control. Everyday He touches me in my weakness and I limp away being me.