DARK DAYS ARE FOR HIS GLORY!
(by E. H. Maze)
Chapter 18
Charles Atlas was a Phony
Well, actually, I didn’t know him, so I shouldn’t
be so quick to judge. I am sure,
however, that he is a mythical character who was supposed to represent someone
so strong that he could carry the world on his shoulders. The bottom line, I think, was that if he
could carry the “world” on his shoulders, then we should be able to carry the
“weight of the world” on ours. It was a
novel idea at the time, I guess, but it doesn’t hold any biblical or spiritual
significance to you and me - when the world is pressing down on us and we feel
the need to carry it as he did.
First of all, the world is too big.
Secondly, you are just a man
(or a woman), not a god (of any sort).
The disproportional
proposition is bad enough - you would have to be at least as big as the sun in
order to carry the world. I know this
sounds ludicrous, but you know that you have been guilty of trying to carry the
weight of the world on your shoulders for a long time. We all do it - or, did it. You feel responsible for everybody’s
happiness. When pain, strife, anger, or
any other earthly emotion makes you aware of people’s problems you want to lift
them up, put them safely upon your shoulders and carry them away to
safety. How is that carrying the weight
of the world, you might ask? Okay, so
it’s not the whole world, but only a small portion of it. Nevertheless, it is your little world, and it
is too large to carry.
I guess, for me, I finally
realized that I was trying to be as big as the sun for everyone I knew. It was an ego thing, actually. Look at me, everyone! I am saving everyone! You need Help? Come to me!
Feel burdened, down, alone, week, insignificant? Jump on, I will carry you.
Sounds like a Savior complex,
doesn’t it?
What I realized (far too late for my past but in perfect rhythm with my present and future) was that because I wasn’t as big as the sun, I would have to settle for being one of those who needed carried instead of feeling as if I could carry everyone.
But, that,
actually, worked out to my advantage. Pride comes before a fall,
yes. But, after the fall there is always someone hanging around to pick
you up again - if you are willing. So, guess what happened? I found someone as big as the sun. That’s right; Charles Atlas (that phony) was
none other than Jesus Christ.
It wasn’t just about whether I was strong enough to carry the world. When I admitted that I wasn’t big enough to carry the world, it struck me like a ton of bricks that the world was too big for me to carry even if I wanted to. So, I tried to unload it. Manage it. Sort it. But, it didn’t matter whether the world was this enormously large sphere floating in space or my little shopping list of things to fix, it was, nevertheless, completely unmanageable. I couldn’t compress my world to a weight that I could handle. I tried buffing up - went to the spiritual gym; signed up for Intercessory Involvement classes (not to be confused with actual intercessory prayer where one can literally reduce the world’s problems to bite-size pieces); held conferences with well-known, or at least well loved, pastors who seemed to carry the world’s problems so effortlessly (funny, they seemed to be very unconcerned).
The weight of all that only managed to produce
one thing: Darkness. The burden I carried broke my back as I
strained with all my might to carry the whole to safety. Do you know what
happens when you strain real hard? You tend to close your eyes.
There is that darkness again. It's not really dark outside, but it is dark
inside. It is hard to concentrate when you can't see your goal, or when
the goal has suddenly become you didn't shoot for.
The bottom line: You are too small, so you can’t actually
carry the world. It’s that ego
thing. Give it up.
For my wife and I, years have passed, battle
lines have been drawn, and we have managed to survive over twenty years of
wedded bliss (snicker). So, I tell you
this story so that you will know that I have lived in the trenches. I have earned the right (through my own stupidity)
to tell you to unload the problems of the
world and walk away. I have been
unburdened and now I stand on top of the world instead of being pressed down by its weight. You can do it, too.
I didn’t say to not be
concerned about people and things. Keep
caring about people; just stop carrying them.
Keep caring about people, just stop carrying them.
Charles Atlas does exist. His name is God and He is just the right size
- He doesn’t carry the world on his shoulders, however. According to the Bible, He “Mothers” the
world as a hen does her chicks - under her wing; He holds it in the palm of his
hands - gently, like an egg not like a rock he is about toss. He cares for us, so we can cast all our cares
upon him.
The world is not supposed to
be our dumping ground for pain.
When someone is carrying the problems of the world (or their own little
world) on their shoulders, it’s like trying to play God.
Remember, the only person as
big as the sun is the Son!
Here is your next miracle:
(two miracles in one, actually):
First thing you must
learn: You are not to be responsible for
everybody’s happiness.
Second thing you must
learn: You are not to be responsible for
everybody’s unhappiness.
Chapter 19
Okay, so you want to call that
strutting! If it is strutting, at least
you have to strut with your head held high.
It is very hard to walk around with your chest held out while your chin
is dragging the ground. Besides that,
it sure beats hiding your head in the ground. Rather be a turkey than an
ostrich, I say.
The eagle has always been my
favorite expression of what I wanted to be.
However, in recent years, I have discovered things about eagles that I
don’t like. There are some downsides to
soaring like an eagle. For starters,
Eagles are notoriously reclusive. It’s
their nature as predators. Predators
don’t made friends easily, they might have to eat them one day. I have (had) some eagle friends and, one day,
their nature overcame them and I was eaten.
I got my wings clipped, my ego and pride snapped. I looked around for my friends - nothing left
of me but a wasted carcass in the desert - but they were not to be found - not
on the ground anyway. Swift moving
shadows all around me reflected from creatures hovering high above me and, there they were -
beautifully soaring above the mundane, excluding themselves from the pain and
torture they themselves had inflicted.
But, it’s okay, because IT’S THEIR NATURE!
The distance you can soar above the ground is not a measuring rod for goodness. Integrity, for instance, is not measured by how high you can fly. Integrity is not determined in an eagle (or a person) by the beauty by which we behold them. Integrity is found in the secret place. Someone has said (I wish I could remember who it was that said it, but I don’t think turkeys have that kind of recall): “Integrity is who you are when no one is looking.”
The eagle (can I stop saying eagle now and say “person” instead?) with its beautiful wingspan as it soars or as it sits majestically as the god-of-the-air on its mountain peak perch is an image that has long given us vision of our own possibility. And, although I admit it is biblical and proper to think of eagles that way, that outward appearance is not what makes the eagle an eagle. What makes the eagle an eagle is the Eaglemaker. That eagle relies upon the hand of God for its provision.
You know (of course) that if an eagle gets its wings clipped it can’t fly anymore? When a person gets his or her wings clipped (and everyone gets it sooner or later) it changes their life. Just like the eagle, the damage can be permanent. So much for the eagle? Of course not! It’s still an eagle, isn’t it? It may have to rely on the assistance of others for the rest of its life - or die. But, it’s inner nature, its created presence, is still an eagle. So much for the person who gets clipped? Of course not!
Here’s what I am saying (HERE IS THE MIRACLE, please get this): If you can’t seem to soar as high as before because you have had your wings clipped - become a turkey.
Greatness is not measured by the height with which you can soar, but by the depth in which Jesus is allowed to abide within you.
I’m a turkey and, with the one exception of
constantly avoiding the eagles of the air or the chopping blocks of holiday
feasts, I prefer being a turkey. IT’S MY
NATURE!
I had gone against my nature for so many years. My turkey wings were tired of flapping, faster and faster; in some self-holy attempt to soar above it all. The bigger my wing-muscles got the heavier I got and the less I could flap. It was rather comical now that I look back at it (from the eyes of hindsight), flapping into the wind like one of those early aviators who would strap on huge canvas wings as extensions of their arms and try to run off the sand dunes of Kitty Hawk. Looked like turkeys, they did!
Looked like a turkey,
I did!
Listen to me, folks, not one of those men ever got any higher than they could jump. Not one of them. They finally gave up and built airplanes instead. You might believe that those eagles, flying so high above you, seem to have it all together. There they are - see them - soaring above the common man in their man-made contraptions, pretending to be eagles. But, they are turkeys just like you and me.
Remember:
Eagles are only turkeys that can fly.
Turkeys grow up to be turkeys (even the ones that think they are eagles).
The
distance you can soar above the ground is not a measuring rod for greatness.
Integrity
is found in the secret place, not in the outward appearance.
What
makes the eagle an eagle is the Eagle Maker.
end of Chapter (click here to go to Chapter 20-21)- if link is not active, the chapter is not yet ready. Check back later, please.
Please let me know if you have read (and enjoyed) this chapter by sending me a quick email to: ehylandmaze@aol.com
bless you.....................................Eugene H. Maze
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