Faith: Beyond The Ovarian Lottery

Recently, I read an interesting post regarding the geographical implications of the faith one may practice. Altering Warren Buffet’s comment that it’s an ovarian lottery and simple geography and not the some Divine, constant truth that determines one’s faith. First I am always wary not to agree with Warren Buffet. I love the concept of a lottery and must admit it is inarguably true. We are very much a product of our geography and the traditions and legacies passed down. However…Warren is not simply betting against the bank, but the mysterious origin of love. True love, that extends eternally outside the pale of sexual or affectionate desires, is all-consuming. A love that has no bounds or borders is undefined by limits of The Giver. Yes, we are all born into many different and unique situations, in fact, I was considered a ‘cradle Catholic’. Yet, faith is simply a dormant label until a precious epiphany is reached. It is in this moment that Warren Buffet is treading in very deep water with only a horizon in his panic-stricken sight. But for Warren…that is still a good thing. Despite the location of his now exhaustive effort to stay afloat, he, the great Warren Buffet, realizes he too is small. Humility helps those awaken to the vastness of love the attentive Giver holds and has already surrounding each and every small and desperate soul. There are no nouns that really dignify the mysterious Creator. Nouns define the boundaries of our reason. Still, humankind is not so limited to accept that which cannot be explained. Therefore, we must agree that even the word ‘love’ cannot be as fully understood as it can be by the heart.
We all know that feeling when we give fully of ourselves to lift another up. We find an unusual joy when we walk alongside another during their long and difficult journey. We also know that love is not overwhelmed by fear. It is in that moment when the veil hiding the elusive Uncreated within and surrounding us seems a bit thinner. This is our path to freedom outside the lottery: Love.
Take time to be still and consider the vastness of Mercy that patiently awaits our choice to open our hearts to receive this very gift.

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Breathless…

Breathless at the precipice of awe,
My courage dares to wonder,
Reason stammers then withdraws
Like a child escaping thunder,
But my heart simply surrenders.

The Uncreated vibration
That makes electrons dance,
An impossible orchestration,
Laughing in the face of chance,
Revealing instead an offered romance.

Known only in moments yet undefined,
Transforming hearts to yearn,
A gift of love for all humankind,
A chance to repent and discern,
Guided, Comforted, and convicted in our return,
To follow the Son without fear of sunburn.

A cross to pick up and then embrace,
Confessed sins whispered yet soon erased,
Gazing at the One who stood in our place,
Unworthy am I to tie His shoelace,
My moment to know is a glimpse through grace,
Aching to see my King face to face,
I stand breathless, watching, and ever awake.

By Chris Clody
10/7/2016

Seek and you’ll…

Contemplation treads atop the soup of reality. A chance to slowly adjust to the temperature of liquid thought. Yet, one must take courage and confidence in believing when you choose to sink deep down into your own soul space that you can breathe below the surface enjoying this gift of God.

 

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Within the moment outside of time,
My Master winks and beckons,
Infinity slides into the sublime,
Expanding each and every second.
Surrounding me with Abba’s affection.

His Presence reveals in me a deep awe,
Humbled by His Promise and each blessing,
As mercy triumph by lifting hearts not law,
Channeling grace through the cracks of my flaw.

Slowly squeezed, I emerge from frozen time –
Rested and grateful for this mountain I climbed.

The Kingdom at hand awaits the seeker to find.

By Chris Clody
7/23/16

Burning Man…

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My mind is a willful captive to the draw of God. His ever-consuming fire, shooting fingers of glowing awe into my heart, mind, and soul. I am beyond intrigue by God’s uniqueness, His ‘otherness’, compared to any known creature. My soul finds purpose and in need of His offering, like a flame to a candle.

His Flame awaits –

Pentecost is coming…

His Flame

Burn in me O Sacred Fire,
Consuming all that is not holy.
Scorch me blind to Pride’s false hope,
Then lead my faith,
Step by step,
Guide me sure and slowly.

by Chris Clody 4/8/2015