Divine Interruptions, caution—fun and laughter ahead - Martina Keast

 Part 1: A conversation with Jesus

Martina, join Me in a dance. Let's celebrate your victory. Courage is flowing; true wisdom and revelation are running your way. Join Me, put your pen down. 

The songs you are listening to are not for twisting and shaking. They are for opening your heart to faith and trust. Let’s listen to something else. 

Yes, this dancing to celebration music was beautiful; now please find your notes on dancing with Markus’ course called Deep Play.

Before every training exercise, I pray to Jesus, surrender my creative gift to Him, and trust the heavenly, imaginative flow. The day I participated in the online course called Deep Play, offered through zoom, there was much construction happening in my building. A two-year project of balcony removal and suite extension was in full swing. I had difficulty concentrating on the instructions Dr. Markus was giving us. Dr. Markus asked us to breathe, sit in what we notice going on around us, and then express what is happening. We did this for a few moments. On the outside of myself, I noticed the noise and the chaos, while I felt peace on the inside of me. My inner self was in the eye of the storm. Despite the noise, I walked and danced, paying attention to what my body felt like doing. As always, I went off-camera for this exercise, too embarrassed for my lack of theatrical ability. Once again--like many times before--I was astonished how the concept of low skill and high sensitivity fits for me. Dr. Markus asked us to dance in what we found ourselves rooted in; I addressed the construction noise. I pretended to have a saw, a hammer, and an electric screwdriver in my hand.

I improvised a choreography out of construction chaos and movement. I danced with the imaginary tools. I created this choreography myself, and I made the music up as I went along. 

Saw: First, one arm moved back and forth like a saw, then the other, then both arms together moved like a saw. Then I twisted my body, laughing hysterically. 

Hammer: First, I used my right hand like a hammer, then the left hand, then I hammered with both hands, then suddenly, I was drumming. This was very emotional for me; I used to be a drummer. I should say I am a drummer without opportunities to play. I cried because I miss playing drums and being part of a band. Then I just had fun. 

The electric screwdriver: First, I used the right hand holding the imaginary screwdriver, and made the sound bzbzbzbz, then the other hand bzbzbzbzbz and finally, I pretended to use two electric screwdrivers with both hands, at the same time, moving in dance, up and up. Bzbzbzbzbzbz

Suddenly, I was twisting and dancing. I laughed and had an incredible sense of fun and satisfaction. Now it’s your turn. 1

Part 2: On a serious note 2

As in all training, I pray to Jesus before engaging in any exercises. 

Part of expressive art invites us to embrace and trust the flow. We create what we see in our mind’s eye. 3 We don’t worry about whether we create a perfect picture. It’s about the expression. 

I painted this dancer with oil pastels. Again, perfection not required. 

Then, as instructed, I asked the painting to say I am … 

Inner Child

I am twirls and swirls. Stuck in your vision.

I constantly twirl and swirl. Wanting to move your body. 

Your feet are firmly grounded. Stuck in your vision.

I want you to be moving, twirling, swirling, dancing, loving life. 

The Older One

I release the foggy uncertainty and trust this vision. 

I am lighter on my feet, moving with this body. 

As I embrace the care and nurture and trust the movement,

I expand my play range, ability, and joy with movement. 

Inner Child

When I am trapped, I sometimes experience panic attacks and temper tantrums. 

I want to play, move, and dance. 

Release me, please. 

What comes up? 

I am the moment before the jump-start.  4

I am waiting to connect with my inner self before I called her all those names. 

I shut her out years ago. I was so unsure. I couldn’t use my long, tall, beautiful body. 

My vision was, Martina, you are fat, tall, and ugly. 

These are not words Jesus describes me with. He loves me, and He is always encouraging me, to dance. I remember the days when I ran through the camp of what fun we had at our charismatic church. I used to clap, sing, dance. 

Now I dance as an expressive artist who listens to Jesus and follows His invitation: Dance with Me, child. Dance with Me. 

Name it: Freedom Dancer

Claim it: Shifts. 

Aim it: Go live your changed life. 

5

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Footnotes

1. A reader’s response. I love this statement—I found stillness in the chaos of construction—it's incredible. Another reader’s response: I love how you are so free and childlike – in your response to the tools and the dancing and taking God’s words to another level. I know God has to be delighted in you and how you respond to Him.

2. Florida Institute of Expressive Art. The Magical Child. With Dr. Markus Scott Alexander. May 2, 2021. 

3. I am referring to the spiritual inner eye that each Christian has. I pray to Jesus, and I read the Bible. 

 

4.Julia Cameron warns, "By setting the jumps too high and making the price tag too great, the recovering artist sets defeat in motion." (Cameron, 2016, p. 141)

5. A reader’s response: This is so beautiful. The movement is lovely, and it so brings home the point that the Lord is playful and fun, and He wants to interact in that way as well. The Lord told me to dance with Him as well, several times, and when I do – even when it's just fun stuff - it's so intimate it's incredible. I read the poem several times because there is so much in it, from pain and bondage to freedom and oneness with Him in big open spaces. 

We are Not Alone by Steph Beth Nickel

August 7, 1982 ... Dave's and my wedding day!

August 7, 2021 ... Our second son's wedding day!

And it wasn't even intentional—at least not from a human perspective.

Originally, Joshua and Ericka chose the date because it worked for Nathanial, my firstborn, and his wife. (They didn't realize it was our 39th anniversary.) However—COVID. Need I say more?

Travel from Scotland to Canada was a no-go.

And so, J & E decided on a super small ceremony and will, hopefully, be able to celebrate with far more people in a couple of years.

In the midst of all the upheaval of the last 19 months, there has been good too. Weddings, like my son and new daughter-in-law's. Births, like the little one who was born in March 2020, whom I got to meet the night she arrived. Dedications, like that same little girl's, a service I was able to attend just a few weeks ago.

All of these things—and so many more—have reminded me that we're not alone.

When I sat on my couch thinking how surreal this all is—I was not alone.

When I slept far more than ever before—I was not alone.

When I was cut off from family and friends—I was not alone.

When social media became a battleground—we were not alone.

When the news made us shake our heads and question how we could be so hateful toward one another—we were not alone.

When "going to church" meant sitting in front of the television watching a livestream produced by people who had never done so before—we were not alone.

A few months back, my hubby and I (along with several others) helped friends move. As a thank you, the wife, a precious friend of mine, gave me a hug. 

A hug. Can you imagine?

That hug woke something in me that had been dormant since Spring 2020. 

That hug reminded me that we need authentic connection. We were created for it.

It reminded me that God's love flows through the arms of a friend, even one we don't see for months at a time.

It reminded me that, despite everything that has come our way since March 2020, we're not alone.

If you're feeling hopeless and helpless—please know that you are not alone.

If you're feeling tired and worn out—please know that you are not alone.

If you're feeling like you need to see some of that good we talked about and experience hope—please know that you are not alone.

"Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:19-20 NIV) (emphasis mine)

At The End Of The World by Bob Jones

 

Three words rocked our world. They weren’t unexpected.

 

She has cancer.

 

“It’s in her spleen, stomach, kidneys, and it looks like some spots on her lungs. I’m so sorry.” The ultrasound confirmed our worst fears. Jocelyn and I couldn’t look at each other. The drive  home was in heavy silence. We knew the next 24 hours would change everything. What are we going to do? How do we tell our boys? Why did it have to come to this? Again.

 

Anyone who never allowed a dog to become a part of the family won’t understand or appreciate the devastation of a terminal diagnosis. Lord knows, it’s just a dog. I mean no disrespect to those who suffered the loss of a loved one or face a terminal diagnosis. 

Anne Lamott is one of my favourite writers. Her dog died on October 4th. She wrote, "My beautiful pal passed away yesterday at home. She had (somehow) gotten old. She was the perfect person and had the most beautiful smile. It is the end of the world and I feel that I will never have a moment’s happiness again. You may know the feeling. Sigh."

 

"The end of the world."  Couldn't say it better. This was the third time with the exact same diagnosis. All were Golden Retrievers. They had names - Tammy. Sprite. Silver. Each one had a unique personality. All were love on four legs.

 

Ironically, when Jocelyn was diagnosed with cancer her despair wasn’t nearly as intense as when three of our dogs were stricken with cancer. We had to put each one down. The drive to the clinic was like walking down death row. Meeting with a vet drove up the anxiety level in each of our dogs and they were never happier than when we left a clinic to go home. Silver had no idea she was not coming out of the clinic alive. 

A few last moments alone with her in the vet’s treatment room allowed all the memories to flood in. The puppy training, balls to fetch, leashes, cuddling on the floor, the first time leaping into a lake, road trips, dog slobber. Just a few months before Silver's life came to an end, she travelled with us from Edmonton to cottage country in Ontario. A family vacation in the truest sense of the word.

 

The night before Silver’s last day was spent in the living room together. The leather couch was off limits for her except that night. There wasn’t much sleeping. With first light, she got her favourite treats. The struggle to get them down assured us we were making the right decision on her behalf. That didn’t make the decision any easier.

 

We didn’t get another puppy. That’s not a choice for everyone, but for us we couldn’t and still can’t bring ourselves to face the same outcome. We find our joy in other people’s dogs for now.

 

When a parent, spouse, child or someone close to us dies, our loss is usually met with sympathy, comfort, and sincere condolences. We are allowed to grieve. We are allowed to cry. We are encouraged to experience our emotions.

 

But pet owners who had a terminally ill dog euthanized, hear quite a different story. Many will tell you that most people did not understand the depth of their grief. Some even experienced the gross insensitivity of a comment like, “Why don’t you just get another pet?”

 

We didn’t just lose a pet. We lost unconditional love. Our Goldens gave us emotional responses that were uninhibited by concern for how their expression appeared to others. They did not judge insecurity or imperfection. They were all-accepting in ways few humans can achieve.

 

In many ways, Jocelyn lost a confidante. Silver allowed Jocelyn to express parts of herself that she never let friends see. During a period of upheaval and trauma, Silver provided Jocelyn with security, stability and comfort. Her neck was a safe place to shed tears.

 

Our Goldens were gifts from God. Creatures made in the Creator’s image and in many ways, reflective of the unconditional love and grace of God. Don't tell my pastoral superiors, but I believe all dogs go to heaven. We were guarded in talking about pet grief. Now, we share our gratitude for the love we experienced and a listening ear for those going  through a similar grief.

 

How about you?  Has your world been rocked by the death of a four-legged family member?  Lean into the grief. Reach out for comfort. Bob.pb.jones@gmail.com

 I write to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose.

Please follow my writing at REVwords.com

I would love to hear from you.

Interruptions Have Purpose by Susan Barclay

 "God shakes us so that the things that can't be shaken will remain." ~Linda Bevere

When heaven touches earth, nothing stays the same.

I don't know about you, but I'm happiest when things are running along evenly, hakuna matata. No worries, no problems. Problems? Who needs 'em?

The thing is though, as long as the sailing is smooth, we tend to take life, and God, for granted. We can keep on the path without seeking God's Word to light it, we can fail to praise God for the blessings we enjoy, we can skip prayer because, hey, everything's going our way! 

But God loves us too much to let us continue along the merry road of ease. He wants us to grow, He wants us to know Him, He wants us to turn to Him, He wants us to become more like His Son (who, for the record, experienced greater suffering than we will ever know), and He wants us to develop compassion for others so we can come alongside them with empathy and understanding. And so He gives us divine interruptions to accomplish His purposes.

The Bible offers us example after example of those who experienced divine interruptions. There's the example of Job, a godly man who didn't lack closeness with God, but who still had his beautiful life disrupted by many sorrows. Unknown to him, his story would be an encouragement to many through the centuries, a reminder that we have an enemy who attacks us because we belong to God, that we need to stand firm in our faith and our knowledge of God's character, that sometimes there are greater purposes in our trials than what we can see on the surface. From him we learn our rightful position under God: He is greater, His thoughts and ways are not ours, we are completely dependent on Him for everything. We also see that "The Lord blessed the latter part of Job's life more than the former part" (Job 42:12a). In very tangible ways, God repays him "for the years the locusts have eaten" (Joel 2:25a). At the end, Job is also a better man. His faith is proven and he is even more humble than when he began.

There's the example of Jonah, the prophet who ran away when God sent him to preach judgement to the Ninevites. Jonah didn't want to go because he knew that God was a God of mercy and would forgive the enemies of Jonah's people, the Jews, if they repented of their evil ways. But God thwarted Jonah's escape by sending a huge storm on the sea, then planting him in the belly of a whale before having him spit up on the shore. Talk about a divine interruption! Jonah went to Nineveh reluctantly, did the job God sent him to do, and was filled with anger and bitterness when God acted exactly as he'd expected in response to Nineveh's contrition. We don't know how Jonah responded to God's rebuke at the end of Jonah chapter 4, but I like to think that like Job, Jonah was humbled by the truth of God's Word to him: people made in God's image and whom He loves are worth more than the lives of plants that have no souls. I like to think that Jonah went forward with greater care and compassion for fellow human beings and that wherever God sent him thereafter, he went willingly, eager to see what God would do.

There's the example of Saul, a most excellent Jew, who thought he was doing the right thing - God's work - in persecuting and killing Christians. He thought he was doing the right thing, that is, until a divine interruption on the road to Damascus, where he was struck blind and had a powerful encounter with the risen Christ. Jesus sends him into Damascus to meet Ananais who restores his sight and where he is filled with the Holy Spirit. Without this supernatural intrusion in his life, Saul would have gone on killing believers; instead he became Paul, God's "chosen instrument to proclaim [the name of Christ] to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel" (Acts 9:15b) and gave us many of the books of our New Testament. He suffered much for the cause of Christ but there is no turning back for one who has had his or her life so dramatically transformed by the gospel.

I've had my own experience of what I would call divine interruptions in the last few years. I've shared them before but I'll share them again, briefly, for new readers or those who need reminding. Both of my children have left the path of Life to follow the world and its pleasures; both of them have boomeranged in and out of our home at one time or another; my mom has had several health issues and been staying with me and my husband for well over a year now. At the moment both my daughter and my mom are with us and that's a dynamic that doesn't always play nicely in the sandbox.

Is there anything more important to us than the people God put closest to us to love? Anything more likely to press us into Him through prayer? My husband and I are certainly more in prayer and the Word than we have ever been. And God has been growing us as we remain firm on our foundation of faith, providing others on similar journeys to walk alongside us. We rejoice in what God is going to do and are confident that He is working behind the scenes even as He was working in Job's life, in Jonah's, and in Paul's. We will not be moved by what we see, but remain fixed on His promises, sure of His character and goodness.

Honestly, I hope that whatever God has for us in these occurrences, we learn from them what we need to, are pruned in the ways we need pruning, keep those things that need keeping, and get rid of those things that are holding us back. May we "[r]un in such a way as to get the prize" (1 Corinthians 9:24b).

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For more about Susan Barclay and her writing, please visit www.susan-barclay.blogspot.com