THE WALL OF OBSTINACY

A Small observer amidst the Great, at the Council of Elrond

• I Corinthians 1:27 "For God has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise and God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty..."

  Lord of the Rings, book one, the Fellowship of the Ring, contains so much wisdom and I am using some of the imagery of this book on my writing journey here. I am re-reading the Trilogy after many years, as guided by Holy Spirit. The Council of Elrond was the gathering of the Great, to consider how to deal with the growing threat of the great darkness coming. The small ones of the Hobbits are there as well.  Hobbits I profoundly relate to, as a small amidst the great, that is me. The power of Lord of the Rings is how the small played a crucial part in the downfall of the darkness.

  As Gandalf said:

  "This is the hour of the Shire-folk, when they arise from their quiet fields to shake the towers and counsels of the Great."

  The mighty usually don't see me. I have labored in the back-40, the potholed alleys, the sidelines, the places of invisibility. The small are often mocked, dismissed, scoffed at, condemned. I have never sought fame or wealth. 

  We all have things, areas of our life that seem like a sheer rock wall, stunning, overwhelming, a place in which we have been defeated so many times, we have lost count. As a "type Z",  the opposite of the dynamic type A, I am intimately acquainted with this noxious impediment plunked on the couch next to me, more stubborn and indeed obstinate than me.

   I write not only about my own visceral journey through the mess that was the sexual revolution but how the lies of the devil waylaid my already tenuous path. Just as I was just putting my toe into the water of adult  life, I became very acquainted with sheer walls of defeat. My defeat has been the realm of money, the making of it, the managing of it. I have not prospered in my life. Survived but not prospered. Although I cut up all my credit cards 22 years ago and have no debt, I have not financially prospered. 

  Middle class thru the heroic efforts of both Mom and Dad, I never came close to that status in my whole life. 

  After my three and a half decades of rebellion and wandering from my Christian roots, I finally stumbled back to God and Son and now am deeply getting to know my Heavenly family. God is what I call the Master Chess AND Poker player, seeing the end from the beginning, a supreme strategist and seeing treasure in earthen vessels. Since He is omniscient, He has no limitations.  He sees things in us that we do not see, even after a lifetime. 

   Struggle is what I know  best and yet, God, more stubborn than I am, hears my desperate prayers for help in the financial realm. I do not want to be homeless!

  He is plotting to get my soul out of the emotional prison on financial lack...but first, I have to journey through the Mines of Moria and confront and defeat my greatest enemy, lack of self worth. This is just what I asked Him for...(NOT). I cannot argue with God, although He allows it...but I am so weary of arguing and staying in the same pit, I am desperate enough to follow God's counsel on this blockage. I am about to take a deep breath, and with Him walking beside me, enter the scary Mines of Moria, confront my deepest fears of lack of self worth and see if I can, with His help, make it to the other side. The "Balrog", a demonic entity awakened by the mining efforts of the dwarves, is what God presented to me, as a symbol of what has held me in poverty for more than 40 years. Head down in survivor mode is more than exhausting and I must find a way to more stability or die trying. At age 71, I cannot remain in this trauma any more.

  Thanks, Papa God, I hear You!  As I already "hang out" every night with God, with my notebook and pen, praying, reading scripture, sometimes pouring out my sorrows as King David did in the Psalms, and then seeking God's face and counsel, He laid this journey on me.  I must traverse the dark and scary place through the Mines of Moria and with my pick and shovel and sword of the spirit and His accompaniment, dig up forcefully my decades of lack of self-worth. For me, that is a huge component to poverty. I must confront the demonic entity at the stone bridge and with one fell swoop of my sword of the spirit, break the bridge behind me and sever the ties that have held me in bondage. On the other side of the bridge is a new door of healing, refreshment and hope. 

  As the Nine travelers journey through Moria, the plunking pebble (that Pippin dropped down a shaft), resonates in the dark, alerting the enemy that someone has dared to step a toe into their lair of wealth. I am petrified of this confrontation. Even though I have a sharp tongue, I am intimidated by the powers of money in this world. I am street-smart but not money-empowered.

  I have had no accolades, no large achievements, no thousands of fans and huge piles of money. I feel like the small, the Hobbits, not climbing great mountains but hidden in the Shire of quiet. Why, I tell God, why do You keep me here when I still feel so useless, an impediment, a burden...and then You call me "Beloved Daughter" and one of Your "late Bloomers".  What??? Your sheer tenderness toward this often sorrowful and ragged traveler is truly still not understood by me! 

  God!!! When will I get this??? On my last day on Earth??? Why???

  I think of the very humble and underestimated Samwise Gamgee, helper, servant, core friend and assistant to Frodo. I am a blend of Sam and Frodo, a hidden plodder who takes joy in simple things and one who deeply feels the intensity of the material world and the eternal battles between good and evil. As both an empath and an empathetic person, I feel it all and hence why I need so much sleep and cry so much.

  I have not the remotest desire for fame or great wealth. I have a Servant's heart to serve God and to lift suffering where I can.  I utterly understand the despair of the poor and how much they suffer in torment. 

  Spiritual wealth is what I seek and yet I do need some foundational provisions for my few remaining years here on Earth. 

  I struggle mightily with this subject, what I have written on before on my Substack, on " love letters to the poor."  I know how many dear and good people are out there seriously struggling in this difficult world.  I desperately feel your pain, every one of you. If I had wealth and was guided by Holy Spirit  to give to a certain person or persons, I would give to lift the awful suffering. I utterly understand the DESPAIR of the poor. This is not about  being " lazy" or unwilling or profligate. My own imperfection remains glaring...and yet I totally  "get" the sadness and defeat that so permeates the poor. This is not about  criminal behavior, as Christ told some as He healed them that "those who steal, steal no more" , to labor with their own hands and to go and sin no more. This means honorable work and not demanding others endlessly take care of you. I utterly get it, I have needed help and a shelter from the storm myself. Nothing wrong with shelter and asking for HELP to get out of the PIT. No flying leaps here, no overwhelming demands to climb a huge mountain, but to merely take one more step of faith, toward the assignment God gave you, as He travels the road along with you, all the way!

   No, one step, one mustard seed of tiny faith, one tiny toe into what you are petrified of. The Mines of Moria are terrifying, long, dark, not brightly marked, occupied with scary creatures of harm, such as the Balrog, which for me, represents poverty and lack.

  God is nothing if not an incredible creative Teacher.  In His incredible love, He meets each of us WHERE WE ARE, makes provision for us in our weakness and only asks us to take one tiny mustard step of faith as our show of trust in Him. He does not demand perfection as humans see it . Even a flawed and messy performance that has missing stitches, frayed edges, raw selvages, gaps in the hem and supremely rumpled, He takes in with such love, I am floored in a sea of tears. Me, who accepted that only a tiny speck of life was my place, feels His loving Hand on my shoulder, calming me , steadying me, drying my weeping, quietly showing me the way. 

  I am frigging overwhelmed, Papa.

  Will You walk with me all the way through Moria? Will you help me wield my Sword to defeat the Balrog of lack and break that blasted bridge between the dark and me? I am not at all sure I can do this and to some degree, am preparing to die...and yet, perhaps, if I take that one tiny step tonight, we shall see. God does things differently than humans do. I have seen Him take me through the valley on more than one occasion. This valley is the biggest I have ever traversed. I am older, I am even less prosperous, I am feeling my physical self age, I am distressed almost 24 hours a day. 

  Help me, Oh God, to make it through the darkness of Moria and into the sunshine of the other side. Help me to do as Your dear Son Jesus Christ did and does, to "bind up the brokenhearted." (Isaiah 61:1)

  WW  Feb. 17, 2024