Your Pants are on Fire.

Lies.

And the peace that comes when hearing and knowing the voice of absolute Truth.

This is life's ultimate battle. And all our lives are tied and twisted into this sticky web which we weave. Lies told to us. Lies told about us. Truth told to us. Truth told about us. Lies we tell. Truths we tell. Lies we believe. Truths we believe.

License Bureau: How much do you weigh? "120 and flippin' proud of it!" In reality you weigh 200, you've just convinced yourself each year that you carry it well and no one knows the difference.

Stressful Job: Why are you calling in sick? "Because I have that yellow fever that's going around!" In reality you're thinking: What the hell is yellow fever anyway? Does that even go around the U.S. anymore? Well, it sounded better than 'I want to hide under my covers and pretend I live a glamorous life like Oprah' or better yet, 'I hate you. Die.'

Church: Boy, you sure do have a chipper smile on your face today! "Well, it's just because I love the LORD so much!" In reality, your broken life is just not something those people want to hear about. They've tired of your complaining. So you go home and write a jaded blog about repenting of being fat, but really it's just an outlet for you to be snarky and feel better about all the crappy things you've been through.

Lies tear down reality. We love building alternate realities around us.

I've been reading the Chronicles of Narnia. Though it is a children's story, C.S. Lewis beautifully articulates his theology simply. He delivers to us an image of God that is contrary to that articulated by pop-christianity; Aslan is good, but not safe. The god of pop-christianity is good and safe, like the Easter bunny is fuzzy. Aslan is kind, tender, and patient, but fiercely-tough loving. The god of pop-christianity is kind, tender, and patient until we don't say the right thing, wear the right thing, sing the right praise song,  think the right thing, and then this god is fiercely-abusive, slaying his victims with cruel words of condemnation.  Aslan warms your heart with sweet affection and wild, courageous passion; the god of pop-christianity warms your heart with ooey-gooey marshmallow peep affection, sickly sweet and stickily sedentary. And because this god sounds a lot more like Satan himself, he doesn't hate Satan the most, but instead, the sinner. But he would never ever ever say that! He would say he hates Satan most.

This morning, some bad things happened to my family. They are fixable. But they were scary. I got on my hands and knees and called out! God, fix this! Everything that has gone poorly in my life, which I openly blame you for, at LEAST you could fix this! If you do actually love us, fix this. Make it right. Or, I'm not sure I can follow you because you don't hold to your promises; to provide for us. (Scripture says if God provides for the birds of the air, and dons the flowers with the most beautiful attire, surely he will care for us, and in richer ways than even them.) It can definitely be argued that in places like Africa or Haiti, where poverty is rampant, that God is not there, nor does he care for us: the human race. But, go to those places and find people are richer and cared for, who love God; not always in physical means, but in spiritual. In many ways, those beautiful peoples are richer than we, Americanized Christians, will ever know how to be.

But, I heard the voice of Truth this morning. For the first time in a long time. I heard God say: Get up. Get ready for work. Make your breakfast. I will work this out.

And with that voice of Truth came peace that still passed understanding.
Warm. And deep. And full.

Peace.