FRODO: I can’t do this Sam.

SAM: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened. But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.

FRODO: What are we holding on to, Sam?

SAM: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

I am holding your brother as they carry your holy body into the church. His terrified heart thumps hard and loud against my arms and I can hear it above the wailing. There is no space to move here, a crowd weeps by the door, and I can’t hold back my tears thinking: you are so dearly loved. Hours later I am holding your best friend as you are being released into the ground. Your friends are all sweat and dirt for you, digging through the red soil with every inch of their strength beneath the scorching sun. There is nothing they wouldn’t do for you. We stand around you singing, unable to move.

It is too early for us to part ways; you are only 16.

**

It is 19:11 and I am beckoned by the vibrating device in my pocket. I take out my phone and read,

“I took pills. I dnt wnt to live anymre.”

The pounding in my ribcage cries louder, aches, and fear grips my already fragile heart.

“My mother never loved me,” she weeps, “my father never cared.”

The doctor walks into the room and asks me for his name. I say her obviously-feminine name. He glares at me with his eyebrows raised, asks in disgust, “she’s a girl?” I muster the strength to politely declare “yes,” but I look him in the eyes, with a look that speaks far louder than my words: how dare you be so ignorant. He looks at me and sees the color of my skin unlike the color of my dear friend’s, so he questions who I am, questions my presence with her here in the hospital. He asks for time alone with her. I turn to her, repeat his question out loud, knowing that the last place she ever wants to be is confined to a room with any man. I respectfully tell him “no sir, she’d like me to stay.”

She lies on the examination bed, he puts his stethoscope beneath her shirt to her chest and I watch as her chest starts heaving beneath his hand. Tears glide down my face, she is remembering the evil once done to her.

**

Who knew a heart could know so much heartache in the small space of 6months; from sickness to HIV, death, child suicide attempts, abuse, stoning, loss, grief, abandonment and pain. There is more in life than what we see and say, there is more that goes unheard and unspoken. There is so much more that is begging to come out into the light, if only we ask, if only we pay closer attention. As chasers of the light, we keep pushing to see and know the light, no matter how much darkness we discover in the world. Sometimes a series of heartaches leave us questioning, other times they grow in us resilience. Sometimes it only takes a moment to shake you to the very core; the light is no longer seen to shine, causing you to question everything you have ever known and believed.

**

It is February 14th 2017, I am awake on the other side of the Atlantic, waiting for my sister to leave the doctor’s office, confidently waiting to hear that her MRI is clear. My brother-in-law is driving them home, and I am trying to decipher her message – tumour- surgery-neurosurgeon – between my sobbing and devastation.

In a moment, immeasurable fear, uncertainty, grief.

In a moment, on another side of the Atlantic, my mother’s heart is breaking, and my father looks desperately for answers.

Surgery.

Radiation.

Days of appointments and tests turn to weeks and months.

Questions of

“Where were you when a 7-year old baby girl was raped?”

“Why did you take my friend’s life at 16?”

“Why did You allow a foreign mass inside my sister’s brain?”

“What of all the goodness I have always attributed to You?”

“Where are You now, God, where are You now?”

Emotional exhaustion, anger, disappointment.

When questioning everything, there comes a gaping hole in your heart, leaving you unable to recognise the face in the mirror. Sometimes if you walk out so far from the place you once called home, you even become unrecognisable to the ones who know you the most. With a heavy, stone-cold heart, struggling to process and accept every calamity, my choices led me further and further from what I have always known to be Truth.

Through the wrestling, months of giving God the cold shoulder and wandering so long not knowing my real name, there was always one constant; family, and the friends I call family, who even when I made worse than bad choices and caused collateral damage along my way, never stopped believing in who they know me to be. When my heart couldn’t bear a word or touch from God, He came softly and quietly through the close people around me.

And that was where He was all along.

Though grief and disappointment will never be easy roads to tread, there is precious love that is a mighty companion.

**

There is an ethereal creature that lives in the deepest part of the Pacific Ocean. It is no beauty to behold, but it’s wonder is in its resilience and ability to withstand the depth, darkness and pressure of the Mariana Trench. In a moment, all of life can change to darkness. Yet, in the exact same moments, there are ethereal snailfish who swim deep into the trench with us to withstand the same pressure and darkness.

Countless names and countless faces.

Courageous, tender hearts who are unafraid to share in the ache.

Relentless lovers and believers in the goodness in us.

“It’s not creation that’s the marvel, it’s the restoration to wholeness that is remarkable. That the destruction and ruin can be restored”
– Unknown

I retell the story once written of a woman caught in her weakness. A tale of piercing words and stones clenched in fists. Yet, there is a Man who bends low, speaks:

“He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.” John 8:7

Stones fall like rain to the ground, every voice is silenced. My sweet sister falls too to the ground, and Mama says, “the Word has pierced her, she is humbling herself.”

“Neither do I accuse you, go and sin no more.” John 8:11

Sister wipes her tears in her shirt, cries,

“But I can’t change. I sleep with so many men. I’m 30 and I can’t have one man. My Father and mother don’t believe I can change, they call me a drunkard. So I just drink.”

We hold her close, speak softly: “we are your family, and we believe in you.”

“Really?” She stares at us, wide-eyed, in disbelief. “But how can I change, I drink. I don’t know how.”

“His power is your strength.

You are worthy.

You are loved.”

Wise Mama speaks to her of Paul on the road to Damascus, tells her the truth that no one is ever too far from grace, that there is no such thing as a lost cause.

“Nifuna, Nifuna, Nifuna” (I want, I want, I want), she pleads.

We hold hands in prayer, pleading for every chain and stronghold to break.

I marvel at the God who does not count our sin, only the number of hairs on our head. I marvel at the abundance of that love.

Sometimes those who are serving God become the hopeless, wishing that those whom they serve could change, but lacking the belief that they can actually change. Perhaps most people, if not all, have a list of “lost causes.” But maybe there is power in the faith of friends who believe in His power. Maybe hope for the hopeless starts right here, with us, when we pursue the wholeness of others by believing in the wholeness of others. Maybe our belief is everything; maybe our faith is more potent than we ever imagined. Like the paralytic man who’s healing came when his friends insisted to lay him before Christ.

When He saw their faith, He said to him, “Man, your sins are forgiven you.” Luke 5:20

Because a roof was no hindrance when the “power of the Lord was present to heal them.” (Luke 5:17) Maybe breaking rooftops is our call, and maybe the hardest rooftop to break through is our own disbelief. What if hope for the hopeless looks like a man weeping and praying in faith before a holy God on behalf of an unfaithful nation (Ezra 9), until the power of God is displayed through their repentance (Ezra 10)?

What if those around us, who are in need of change, never changed because we never faithfully believed and prayed that they could?

What if we prayed for others, genuinely believing in Gods power?

Sweet sister comes the next evening for prayers, runs up to the altar weeping on her knees. Maybe our faith in Him on behalf of others is the most we really have to offer, maybe He is more powerful than we have ever known…

When the doctor’s asked what surgery she’d had and she said with a smile that she didn’t want to talk about it, alarm bells rang like the sirens that came after her 911 call.

The doctor pushed through her silence and it shattered with the words ‘I was raped and I had an abortion.’
I felt like I had forgotten how to breathe for a moment… or the girl who had an asthma attack this morning in the clinic had stolen all the oxygen… her mother didn’t care enough to keep it controlled.

They call this place ‘the holy city’ because it’s where all the gang lines meet. And it felt like holy ground but ground that I didn’t know how to walk on. Ground that was so hot with the fire of the Holy Spirit that it was burning my feet. I watched a giggling 13 year old girl with a secret turn into a broken woman.

I tried to catch her eye in our silence. My small offering in the midst of the ashes.

They taught us at medical school that it was more about checklists than listening to stories. Everyone has a story, one we will never know if we never ask. In a culture of noise and talking, we must learn to rearrange the letters of the word ‘listen’ and make them spell ‘silent,’ because sometimes there are no words worthy of the pain. When silence is all we have to give, let us learn to sit in it. Let us recognize our calling to lament and weep with those who weep like Jesus wept for Lazarus. Let us avoid loving at a distance and learn to love like a neighbour. As Christians we must choose to challenge ourselves and take a fresh look at the notion of ‘professional detachment.’ We must realise that detachment is devoid of the connection that fosters healing. What if, with discernment, we chose to be IN the suffering instead of being on the outside looking in?

They told us at medical school to detach from other people’s pain in case we catch it like an infectious disease. But there is a pain I have coddled up to and I am intent on catching because maybe it feels like we cheat the world when we don’t share in its pain just like Christ shares in ours.

Beyond prescribing and note taking we are called to be ministers of reconciliation, using the sword of the spirit to cut down the barriers that commonly divide us; so that a privileged girl with a thick British accent can take the hand of an African American girl from the ghetto and call her sister.

“All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation;  that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.  Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.”  (2 Corinthians 5:18-20)

After all of this, I am still left with the questions; How can I be a ‘christian health care provider,’ how can I be a good physician? We joke that health care providers can have ‘God complex’ – aloofness combined with blithe confidence in their powers; if that is the definition then the God being imitated is not that of the Gospels. So one thing I know is that we need doctors and caregivers who do what Jesus does, who can be present, trust in God and lament when the suffering remains.

‘Jesus wept.’
John 11:35

in·tol·er·ant \-rənt\ ; not willing to allow or accept something

There is much talk of guns and hate, terror and injustice. Religious belief systems are in question, and humanities morality appears to be in severe decline.

We hate the guns, those behind the guns, and those who refuse to stop the guns. We hate the terror, the terrorists and the beliefs that drive them to acts of violence. We hate the violence and the violent, the injustice and the obstructers of peace. We hate the intolerance that leads to hate.

And amidst it all she tears into me as I hear her say, “it is this hate that makes some of us still hide.”

I remember every persecuted minority.

Humans were not made for this kind of hate; we were not made to hide.

I can’t help but think of all those who are more fearful, more hateful of themselves because of this. And I can’t help but wonder what possesses a human to unflinchingly rob someone of life for holding different beliefs. Maybe we don’t have guns pointed, but what difference does it make when in our own hearts we possess the same intolerance towards various people who are different to us?

There is no measure to intolerance – there is only willingness or unwillingness to allow or accept another person for their beliefs.

There are those who call it a higher power, God, Yahweh, Allah, Krishna, Selassie, mother nature, or science. There are the singers, the dancers, the poets and the drummers, who envision a different meaning to the word worship. There are the Sunni’s, the Shi’ite’s, the Sufi’s and the Baha’is. The evangelicals, Pentecostals, Baptists, Catholics, the Orthodox and all those who refuse to go by a name. There are the liberal and the fundamentalists. There is creation, and there is evolution. There are homosexuals, heterosexuals, transgender, bisexuals. There are those whose birth determined their hair, skin color and the shape of their eyes. And there are those who like guns, love guns, believe in the right to a gun, and there are those who have known the searing loss caused by a gun.

We live in a world of diversity, and diversity should neither threaten nor scare us. Diversity was never made to cause this kind of chaos.

But maybe amidst the chaos and the ache we can all fight for something. Maybe we can fight the intolerance in our own hearts and refuse to let the same darkness take hold of us. Maybe we can fight the pride of being offended when others don’t agree with us, and forsake the supremacy of our own thoughts. Because intolerance is pride. Intolerance is believing that our own beliefs make us greater than others. Intolerance is the unspoken disgust, disdain and disregard of another person because of what they believe or how they choose to live their life.

Maybe instead of pointing the gun we can reach out our hands to understand one another better.

Maybe instead of slashing others with the sword at the tip of our tongues we let kind words make a warm home between us.

It is time to consider what makes us pull the trigger.

It is time to disarm.

It is time to stop hating.

It is time to walk in love.

We all belong to each other. That is plenty, that is enough.

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.”
– Mother Theresa

Photo courtesy of Maria Dryfhout

And that’s okay.

I hear you.
The weary heart that is tired of all the voices telling you to just “get over it already.”
The disheartened heart that wonders if she can ever love anyone as much as she loved him.
The broken heart that mourns the loss of years of friendship.
And you, who keeps telling yourself “not this” – that it’s been way too long for you to still feel this way.
I hear you.

I guess as humans we naturally progress, and we always want to move on. We want to come to a place of learning how to breath like we used to, without that other person. Arriving at the place where we no longer care, at least that’s what we’re made to think. We’re told that to move on is to stop loving, stop caring, and enjoy that all ties have been severed.

The truth is, you cannot drain an ocean and when you have loved deeply, you cannot one day wake up and unlove. Whether a relationship or a friendship, when another’s name has been etched into our heart, our world is changed because of them, especially when we have discovered parts of ourselves through them.

Human connection is one of the most fundamental cravings and perhaps that is why it is unerasable. Perhaps that is why, like tree roots in barren soil, we take the mould of those whose lives are mingled with ours. Perhaps that is why even after countless months of silence, speaking to them again is like finding a place you forgot existed; like travelling for so long and realising they are home, with the same scent and laugh as they had all that time ago. A place with the front porch light on and an open door, greeted by a smile that still remembers exactly what to say and how to say it. A coffee cup with your name on it, coffee poured just the way you’ve always liked it. Home. Connection. Belonging. And it’s like you never left. And maybe the truth is, you haven’t. Because they are a place where you will always feel known and seen for all that you are.

And that’s okay.

Maybe moving on looks more like making space for the complexity of those “it shouldn’t be like this” torrents of missing them and learning that we don’t need to act on what we feel no matter how potent our desire or longing is. Sometimes every inch in our body bemoans and laments strong feelings for someone and having to silence it. So don’t silence it: write about it, pray about it, sing about it but know when it’s time to put the pen down and walk away. Peace is found when we allow the paradox to be just exactly as it is. Sometimes we expect total clarity with zero doubt, believing it to be an indication that we should stay in a relationship or go back when perfect resolution isn’t there. But that is deceptive, perfectionistic and not very self-compassionate. Then there are the times you realise love isn’t enough and you have to do hard things like leaving.

In the end remind yourself, that just because the space their love left is still hollow, it isn’t a sign that your lives must be intertwined. That means learning to let go of control and living in the tension – wanting but not having, missing but not making what you miss a reality. Our feelings should not surprise or scare us – they are but a glorious, devastating testament to the sheer power of connection.

So what does it mean to move on? I guess that looks different for everyone. For some people it may mean deleting their number or unfriending them on Facebook, for another person it may mean choosing to stop asking about them and for another it may mean going to the places that remind you most of them but making new memories there. Disconnecting the connection is a road overgrown and we must all learn how to travel down it.

Maybe moving on doesn’t look like waiting for change, hoping for that ‘I was wrong’ apology or the day they come back fighting for you. Maybe moving on will never just happen with time. Letting them go is letting go of more than memories and the photographs painted on the inside of your mind. It is letting go of the safety of arms you carved into your own, the sweet dispositions and wide-eyed gazes that only you knew the meaning of and the connection that echoed the largeness of life. Moving on is the daily choice to not carry that love, or loss or that person as your identity.

Maybe moving on isn’t about unloving, and moving on in this way can sound dangerous and feels like losing. But maybe moving on in this way is the bravest thing we can do: to not fear admitting how much love still remains, yet not pursuing that love anymore. Maybe moving on looks a lot like courage; believing that there is a greater cause to live by than our fears.

Maybe moving on is choosing not to shape the memories into our bones – not to live in the past, not to relive the past. Choosing ‘now.’ Choosing to surround yourself with those who can love you well, to remind you that all love is not lost because love is not that person.

And we’ll be okay.

“To touch and feel each thing in the world, to know it by sight and by name,
and then to know it with your eyes closed so that when something is gone,
it can be recognized by the shape of its absence. So that you can continue to possess the lost, because absence is the only constant thing. Because you can get free of everything except the space where things have been.”

– Nicole Krauss

Co-written with Sandra.

a) the fear of knowing yourself

b) the power that it gives the person we are being vulnerable with

Being vulnerable, whether that’s apologising or confessing a fear, mistake or insecurity requires a level of self-reflection and it is terrifying to go into your own darkness.  By sharing that with another person we’re taking a huge emotional risk by placing this sacred piece of our soul in their hand. A piece that they may not know how to handle with care. A piece they can either be compassionate and gentle with or that they can totally break into fragments if they react in disgust or rejection to our vulnerability. So vulnerability is hard because knowing my own darkness is agonising and also because taking someone deep into that darkness means they can confirm our worst fear – that we’re too dark to be loved or worthy of love. And that is a kind of pain that can leave the most damaging of scars.

But I think there is also another part that we miss which makes vulnerability seem so dangerous and uncertain.

When I take someone into that darkness and I reveal a part of me that is wounded or hurting,  an unspoken level of accountability is forged. Especially if I deeply love the person with whom I’m being vulnerable with, which is normally the case, because love requires that I do whatever it takes to be the best for them. So it follows that if I am ready to share a shortcoming, I am ready to try to move away from it.

Most of the time, vulnerability in any relationship will happen when we’re apologising, trying to explain our actions to someone or trying to help them understand why we reacted in a certain way. It usually means that the very thing we’re being vulnerable about probably affects the person that we are being vulnerable to.

By sharing this with them and releasing it into the open and into the light, I can no longer say I didn’t know about my own inadequacies. I can no longer turn a blind eye or ignore it. More importantly, I can no longer hide from it because now another soul can see. I am faced with one choice – confront it, fight it and grow.

I think that’s an incredibly scary thing about vulnerability – more than the emotional exposure, it’s the place that the emotional exposure thrusts us. And where is that? A place that means we must choose to be different and change.

Vulnerability is hard because “despair is more comforting than hope.” In the pit of my own darkness I am free to languish in hopelessness and sorrow, but once I am vulnerable, whether I’m received with compassion or not, I have no excuse to remain in my tattered fig leaves rather than animal skin. The fear is that: ‘What if it takes me too long to change? What if they give up on me?’ This is when the shame creeps in and like our forefather, Adam, we want to run.

Vulnerability creates accountability and that’s a huge responsibility to shoulder.

Perhaps that’s why vulnerability can be much easier in retrospect, sharing wounds that have been and gone. Being vulnerable in the moment, being vulnerable about the very brokenness that still breaks you so well, really is the biggest risk. And here is the kicker: ‘What if, by revealing my shame or weakness, so that I may be known,  I’m actually giving them the reason to walk away from me?’

Maybe this is why vulnerability feels like weakness; not just because of the exposure but because of the position of responsibility it puts us in where there is no more space for blaming others and pointing fingers. I must own the story of my weakness.

Vulnerability doesn’t guarantee anything. It isn’t a miracle in a bottle. Yes, it is ultimately a risk that can leave us naked and alone, but without it we have no connection.

So there will come a time, when we think of the past; every single time trust was offered to someone in vulnerability and was irretrievably broken, when we think of the present, the people in our life we are called to love as our own soul and when we think of the future, the kind of love we want our life to profess and we are compelled to ask: “is vulnerability worth it?”

What if staying and being vulnerable with those trusted souls in our lives breaks our plan? Everything comes at a cost, and though waters may rise and vulnerability may fail us along with those we trust, if love is the fulfillment of the law, then there is no cost that is wasted. Nothing is wasted for love – may our souls never forget to wear this God-breathed truth like second skin.

Click here to read part 1 of our vulnerability series!

Photo courtesy of  Zachary Snellenberger

“Courage (from latin: coeur): to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart.”

Connection with others gives purpose and meaning to our lives. It’s how we were created. Even on a physiological level it’s how we’re wired neurobiologically.

Too many of us have been conditioned to respond, “Good. How are you?” to the disingenuous but seemingly obligatory question of “How are you doing?” as we pass by an acquaintance. Side note: I actually had someone say “Good. How are you?” in response to me trying to mix things up and say “Hey man! It’s great to see you!”

Too many of us long for deep connection and intimacy but don’t want to take the risk required to expose ourselves to build the mutual trust that makes relationships worthwhile.

Too many of us prefer to numb ourselves to grief, shame, and disappointment but don’t realize that we are numbing joy, gratitude, and happiness in the process.

Where are those who desire to imitate our Lord Jesus Christ

who willingly hung naked on a cross for the world to see
who willingly asked us to come and touch His wounds
who took a risk and gave Himself up knowing that some still might reject Him

You see, vulnerability is not weakness. It is the most courageous thing you can do. To let ourselves be seen.. to let ourselves be known. For it is only when we are fully known that we can be fully loved.

Let us love with our whole hearts even though there’s no guarantee. Let us lean into the discomfort of exposing ourselves knowing that to feel vulnerable means that you’re alive. When you ask the questions,

“Can I love this person this much?”
“Can I believe in this as passionately?”
“Can I be this fierce about this?”

do not give into fear but know that this is what it means to be alive.

Let us not try to make uncertain things certain; let us have the courage to be imperfect; let us not pretend but rather present people with the most authentic version of ourselves.

Let us dare greatly and learn from failure when it comes our way instead of avoiding it by not trying at all. This is the only way to grow.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt

Let us follow in the footsteps of our Maker:

God takes risks. The Incarnation of Jesus was perhaps the greatest risk ever taken… God shows His true greatness when He shows His ability to be weak. To condescend – to get down on our level – is the way God makes Himself open to us. And by doing so He makes Himself vulnerable (Fr Meletios Webber in Bread & Water, Wine & Oil).

By His most human action, an action which expresses all the weakness and impotence of our created nature, Christ shows Himself to be God. The profundity of this puts one at a loss for words (Fr John Behr in The Mystery of Christ: Life and Death). 

Vulnerability is not weakness. It is strength. It is power. It is love. It is truth.. and it is truth that sets us free.

“True love is borne out of true vulnerability, and true love is humble enough to be rejected, to be crucified, to be killed. However, we need to go through the cross to get to the Resurrection and we need to go through vulnerability, through the risk of being rejected if we hope to reach the sort of relationship and communion that come from being fully known and fully accepted.”

“And Adam called his wife’s name Eve, because she was the mother of all living.” Genesis 2:20

Eve; Life-giver (Strong’s concordance)

I recently started my women’s health placement and I can’t quite articulate how amazing it is to see women becoming ‘Eves’, becoming life givers, but I am beginning to understand that it means so much more than just labour, blood and tears (mostly my own).

The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.” Genesis 2:18

I have heard so many women wince at this verse, in misunderstanding we have withered womanhood, we have forgotten our calling. The hebrew  ‘Ezer Kenegdo’ – bluntly translated ‘a suitable helper’…but more accurately, the Hebrew word Ezer is translated as a combination of two roots: `-z-r, meaning “to rescue, to save,” and g-z-r, meaning “to be strong.” Eve was not only called a life giver but a life saver.

I have not found this life saving strength in the secularism of ‘having it all’. Womanhood isn’t about walking the tight rope of contradictions; not too fat, but not too skinny, not too loud but not too quite, driven, but not too much. It’s easy to get confused when we are bombarded with messages telling us that we are too much and yet not enough. Above and beyond all this, I see strength when I think about the selfless pangs and pushing of labour. Strength, when I think about how perhaps womanhood is the bridge where pain and love meet.

One of my favorite Sunday’s of lent was just a few weeks ago – the Samaritan woman*, once a temptress of hearts but through the words of our Savior she became so much more. Jesus spoke to her and said; “but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14).

Through His water, we too can become a fountain to quench the thirst we see around us.

It is no coincidence that we were created from a rib, close to the heart, enclosing it with unbreakable strength. Holding together the lungs that give the breath of life.

Woman;

An encourager of the hearts of men who have had their dreams stifled by the laughs of other men

A gentle hand to hold the fragments of men shattered by the cruel words of women

A compassionate embrace to those who are wounded in heart and spirit

A breath of air into the lungs of those who been winded with discouragement and despair

That’s who women are called to be.

“We are women, and my plea is let me be a woman, holy through and through, asking for nothing but what God wants to give me, receiving with both hands and with all my heart whatever that is.”

– Elizabeth Elliot

“To me, a lady … is gentle, she is gracious, she is godly and she is giving. You and I have the gift of femininity… the more womanly we are, the more manly men will be and the more God is glorified. Be women, be only women, be real women in obedience to God.”

– Elizabeth Elliot

“Women opened the windows of my eyes and the doors of my spirit.”
Kahlil Gibran

*http://www.antiochian.org/st-photini-samaritan-woman

How does this have to do with you and me, you ask?

Well Satan hates God and everything that has to do with Him, including us. Because we were made in the image of God, Satan loathes us and will do anything and everything in his power to destroy us with himself by keeping us disconnected from the Bridegroom of our soul.

This would be a cause for great fear if it were not for Him who is for us, who holds the world in His loving hands.

Satan may roar like a lion but he is nothing compared to the Lion of Judah. He may be the prince of this world, but he has to ask permission from the King of Kings and Lord of Lords before doing anything. Satan may even be able to transform himself into an angel of light to confuse some, but our God is the Unapproachable Light who enlightens those who seek after Him.

Satan is an expert at waging war against mankind and his tactics are ruthless. He has had many thousands of years of experience and the war against him should not be taken lightly. However, God has not left us alone and has even allowed this warfare for our salvation. What follows are four tactics essential in fighting the enemy:

1. Never Rely on Yourself

“Not to rely on oneself is so necessary in our struggle, my beloved, that without this, be assured, not only will you fail to gain the desired victory, but you will be unable to resist the smallest attack of the enemy. Engrave this deeply in your mind and heart”

The first step is to realize that your enemy is just too strong for you. Never ever think you are safe but always expect temptation until your last breath. One of the crafty wiles of the devil is to withdraw for a time giving you the false sense that you have overcome some sin after much struggle. Then, when you have let down your guard he attacks with such fierceness that your fall is so great you cannot fathom how it happened.

It is important to remember the words spoken to St. Anthony when he asked who could overcome the snares and traps laid by the enemy. “The humble” came the gentle reply. Pride is detestable to God so He will withdraw His grace if He sees our hearts lifted up in pride when we think it is we who have overcome in our own strength. We need accountability and vulnerability with those we are fighting alongside and those who are leading us if we are to advance on the battlefield.

2. Have a Perfect Trust in God

“Together with complete renunciation of ourselves, we should plant in our heart a perfect trust in God and a complete confidence in Him”

In addition to understanding we can do nothing of ourselves we have to remember the power, wisdom, and love of God. If we hold fast to the following three truths we can establish an unwavering trust in Him:

God is Omnipotent, or all-powerful, and can do all that He chooses. Therefore He has all the power to help us in absolutely anything.

God is Omniscient, or all-wise, and knows all in the most perfect manner. He knows fully what is best for the salvation of each of us.

God is infinitely Good and comes to us with ineffable love. He, as a Good Shepherd and True Father, is always ready to help us as soon as we run to Him with firm trust in the protection of His arms. Because He loves us with an incomprehensible love, we have to know and trust that He will lead us in all things for our good and for His glory.

3. Strive without ceasing

“War should be waged ceaselessly and courageously”

There is no rest on this side of eternity. To ‘take a break from God’ is to surrender to the enemy.

“So this spiritual warfare of ours must be constant and never ceasing, and should be conducted with alertness and courage in the soul”

Never stop crying out to God saying:

“rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me.” (Psalm 142:6)

Continue using weapons proven to work:

“Flog the foes with the name of Jesus for there is no stronger weapon in heaven or on earth”

Get up every time you fall with hatred for those things which ensnare you and for the love of sin which lingers in your heart. Never give up. Never surrender. Your General, your King, your Father looks with joy at your efforts. Your struggle for His Name brings sweet pleasure to His heart, and that’s worth fighting for.

4. Remain constantly in prayer

Prayer doesn’t come in one shape or size.

There was actually a heresy in the 4th century that was condemned because it taught, among other things, that the only way to salvation was solely by praying.

Prayer’s ultimate goal is union with God and there is no formula for that. There is only relationship. Here are a couple of points to drive the point home:

St. Peter of Damascus says:

The Apostle says, “Pray without ceasing.” That is, he teaches men to have the remembrance of God in all times and places and circumstances. If you are making something, you must call to mind the Creator of all things; if you see the light, remember the Giver of it… If you put on your clothes, recall Whose gift they are and thank Him Who provides for your life. In short, let every action be a cause of your remembering and praising God, and lo! you will be praying without ceasing and therein your soul will always rejoice.

We can indeed pray unceasingly if, in addition to saying prayers we become prayer. Paul Evdokimov writes, It is not enough to say prayers; one must become, be prayer, prayer incarnate. It is not enough to have moments of praise. All of life, each act, every gesture, even the smile of the human face, must become a hymn of adoration, an offering, a prayer. One should offer not what one has, but what one is.

You can practice the presence of God, sing and make melody with your heart to the Lord, serve the poor and sick for the sake of Christ, stand or even sit in silent awe at the excellence of His beauty, meditate on how great are all things that His hands have made, write or type out prayers, and talk with family and friends about His goodness.

These are all forms of prayer.

Do all things with the intention to please and love Him more, and not to please yourself. Do not approach Him out of a feeling of guilt as if you must talk to Him in order to relieve yourself of some burden. Let your heart yearn for Him! Be consistent and faithful in coming to Him because you want to.. because you get to.. not because you have to.

Let us ask Him to give us this beautiful and blessed desire to love Him and yearn for Him all the days of our lives.

So to review, the four things we can do the wage war against and overcome the enemy are:

1.) Never rely on yourself

2.) Have a perfect trust in God

3.) Strive without ceasing

4.) Remain constantly in prayer

With that being said though, let us remember the point of all of this: to grow in virtue, holiness and in the love of God. Fighting the enemy is not the goal; it is just a means to the goal, which is to grow in the knowledge of the love of God until we mature to the full measure of the stature of Christ.

“You don’t become holy by fighting evil. Let evil be. Look towards Christ and that will save you. What makes a person saintly is love.”

— St. Porphyrios

This post was inspired by reading Unseen Warfare. I highly recommend it!

(The photo is courtesy of Wildo Cagliani)

Hercules was the son of the gods, but he was made mortal by two conniving workers of the devil. Though he became mortal, he still retained his god-like strength. At first, he didn’t really know what to do with it because his incredible strength was so awkwardly enclosed in his humanity. However, with time he learned to master it and day by day he grew in stature and wisdom. He eventually found his way back to his father and asked to return to his heavenly home; however, his father had other plans. He told him that the key to the gates of heaven could be found within himself. This truth is said in another way by St Isaac the Syrian:

“Endeavor to enter your own inner cell, and you will see the heavens, because the one and the other are one and the same, and when you enter one you see the two. The ladder leading to the Kingdom is concealed within you, that is, in your soul. Wash yourself from sin and you will see the rungs of the ladder by which you can ascend there.”

As with any Disney film, it wasn’t long before Hercules started to fall in love. This wasn’t just any fairytale love – this love was fierce. It was a love that led him to jump into the perilous waters of the underworld to rescue the object of his affection out of the cold hard clutches of death itself. In doing so, he was sacrificing himself, literally dying to himself. This scene brought the following verses to mind:

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.” Galatians 2:20

“You shall love your neighbour as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:31

“whoever loves others has fulfilled the law” Romans 13:8

As he waded through the perilous waters, his life hung in the balance between life and death. Then suddenly, he was transformed. He had let go of his selfishness by putting another life above his own. His love changed him from being a mere mortal to being a heavenly creature. In dying to himself he was able to enter through the gates of heaven where he belonged. When Christ came on earth through the incarnation, He had to stoop low in order to come and save us. He had to come down as a child, vulnerable, fragile even. So, we too must break ourselves, die to ourselves, become small so that others can rise… so that others can live.

Unless you die you cannot truly live… you cannot be fully alive!

It’s only when we fall in Love with God and we learn to put another soul above ours, like Hercules did that we can sacrifice, and ultimately die to ourselves.

‘The ultimate response to ourselves, to others and to God is love. Every other response is but a derivative dimension and secondary version of the primary reality of love’ -Life of St Anthony

Hercules loved Meg’s soul like his own (as it says Jonathan did of David in Samuel 18:1). But, what does it mean to love someone like you love your own soul? Maybe, it means that like Moses, I will learn to say “But now, please forgive their sin–but if not, then blot me out of the book you have written” Exodus 32:32. I am in awe that anyone could ever say that, but maybe this is what is means to really die to ourselves, that we desire the best for others, and that we can pray that “others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should.”

“He who has the Holy Spirit in him, to however slight a degree, sorrows day and night for all mankind. His heart is filled with pity for all God’s creatures, more especially for those who do not know God, or who resist Him and therefore are bound for torment. For them, more than for himself, he prays day and night, that all may repent and know the Lord” -St Silouan the Athonite

“Let us become the image of the one whole God, bearing nothing earthly in ourselves, so that we may consort with God and become gods, receiving from God our existence as gods. For it is clear that He Who became man without sin will divinize human nature without changing it into the Divine Nature, and will raise it up for His Own sake to the same degree as He lowered Himself for man’s sake” -St Maximus the Confessor