Thar's a GUN in the house!!!!!

Hide the dog! Put away the kids!
Daddy done bought himself a GUN! It wasn't easy to do either. For some reason, there was a lot of guilt that I had to work through when I made the purchase. I think that it was unmistakably connected to my Christian upbringing. No, my father didn't ever teach me that guns were evil (although, from his experiences in war...he may well have wanted to). And as I remember, we had a rifle and a shotgun tucked away in a closet somewhere... boomsticks that my father had inherited from his father. Heck, pops even took us shooting once.

Still got it where it counts!
It was a short lesson in "gun fun." Poor little bunny. Pops took both of its eyes clean out of its fluffy little head with a 22 caliber round, in one eye and out the other. As I remember it, the second eye was actually dangling by a large "vein" of some sort; there was no trace of the other. And all from a distance of what seemed like 25 yards! I swear, It was AMAZING. 'Course, at my tender young age, and with a teeming feminine side that I had yet to bring into submission, I was crying like a baby. I recall saying, "I hate you dad" as I stormed off.

An important lesson...
GUNS ARE NOT TOYS. And owning one is SERIOUS BUSINESS. So when I made my purchase, I had a lot of soul searching to do. Right now, I have no intention of going into my reasons for buying the gun. Maybe in a later post. Besides, that's not even the point. The point is...THAR'S A GUN IN THE HOUSE! And THAT begs a change...

With great power comes GREAT responsibility...
This is no church musical. It's not like a mistake will ever be cute. An accident is never something we will look back on and laugh. It's a deadly gamble. Really. Because a gun is just a tool. And a tool does what it does, despite ethics or reason. It doesn't care who's holding it. It doesn't bother with clever conversation. It just shoots bullets. Hollow point, 40 caliber bullets. 10 in the clip, one in the chamber. The resluts can be neutral, good, or horrible; it completely depends on how it is used.

Now change the paradigm!
The Bible describes ITSELF as being sharper than any two edged sword. Last time I checked, swords were weapons. But they were tools too. Depending on how they were used, the results could be nuetral, good, or horrible (much like a gun). Especially those two-edged ones. Whew! Talk about a tool! Well guess what folks, THAR'S A SWORD IN THE HOUSE! And with great power comes GREAT responsibility. It's not cute or funny or whimsical or laughable. It's as serious as a heartattack.

"It's only a flesh wound..."
As I daily seek to love those around me, both within and without the chruch, I am ALARMED at the number of scars that seem to be turning up. It seems like, everywhere you look, you can easily pick out two or three people (at the very LEAST) who have been severely wounded by the piercing edge of a sword. It's almost like they've come from a viscious battlefield somewhere. And there's SO MANY of them! It's really quite astounding. And guess what folks...those people DON'T LIKE SWORDS. Maybe they used to. But how would you feel about guns if I shot you with one? What about if I shot you twice? What about if I shot you EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU CAME OVER TO MY HOUSE? You wouldn't like that very well...would you?

They have a name for that!
It's called being "gun shy" and it's basic psychology baby. When it comes down to it, dad is gone and the kids have found the key to the lock box. We've been swinging the Bible around to our end for centuries now. Get in the way, I'll cut you. Disagree with my ideas, I'll stick it through your lower intestine. Question my understanding of the sword, and you're bound to lose an eye (rabbit style). Wear the wrong clothes, say the wrong words, have sex with the wrong gender, be the wrong color, ask too many of the wrong questions, and you can count on losing some parts of you...if not just dying altogether.

Practice makes imperfect.
With all of the rounds that have gone through the "gun"... with all of the swings we have swung with the "sword"... with each of the words we have said with our mouths... you'd think by now we would be exhibiting some degree of mastery with the weaponry we have in our keep. And truthfully, I guess we do in one sense. But we've only mastered our ability to slaughter one another. *8* (this indicates the inspiration of a NEW BLOG...stay tuned)

Relatively Speaking...
More and more I am finding my place. I am feeling drawn to those who have been so deeply cut, so badly wounded, that they have no capacity to ever see another "weapon" (read:Bible) as long as they live. For many "Christians" who hear that, it is a bad thought. But why? After all, is it not possible that the TRUTH contained withi its pages is not BOUND by its pages?

Unarmed.
That's what I want to be. Harmless. Vulnerable. No longer hinding behind the quivering blade of steel that has for far too long been where my faith has been. It's just too hard to serve when your hands are full anyway. The sword belongs in its sheath. Words, hidden in my heart. Tucked away...deep away. So deep that it changes me. And then I wonder...

Could it be that such a weapon,
sharper than any two-edged sword,
was never intended for battle anyway?

Is it possible that suicide is condoned in the Kingdom?
The very tools supplied?

"Die to self."
"The old man."
"Dead in Christ."
All familiar concepts.

Perhaps the wickedness in our darkened hearts,
so great as to cause a chasm so infinitely wide
we may never cross over to our Creator,
has but one cure.

We found the sword. We assumed its purpose.
"Sustain ourSELVES," we cry. "Protect our PROTECTOR."
And we swing at others. VILE ATTACKERS!

Trying to hold the fort. Secure the line. OBLIVIOUS the whole time...

...that the sword was not built for battle, nor crafted for war.
That a SAVIOUR needs no SAVING.
That a weapon of such powerful terror was designed for the destruction of a far more sinister foe...
SELF.

Swords held aloft and points shimmering forward, we have failed.
Trembling eyes, gaping in fear at the
unkown evil that may lie in wait.
But it will not come as we know.
Not in such a way.

The time has come.
Soldiers arise. Accept your defeat. Embrace the Truth,
that the sword being held is more valuable
than the soldier holding it.

That the (s)word indeed created the soldier.
Surrender to the (s)word. Completely.

Turn your sword, butt to the ground.
Now, arms aloft, raise your head to the Heavens and let go.
Fall with all of your earthly weight
upon the piercing tip of the blade,
until the pop of your chestbone
is the precursor to the silencing of your heart.

Kill Self.

I suspect that is what the Bible is for. Not assault. Not defense...
...but suicide.

See you on the other side!