The Wing Man

You admire the beautiful butterfly and wait for it to take off into graceful flight, but it doesn't. It just sits there. You look closer and discover the reason why: a broken wing. Grief enters your heart as you realize that any attempt you make to fix its delicate wing will probably make things worse. This is a butterfly in need of redemption. A creature that is unable to buy back the ability to function as it was created to function. Many times when we look into the mirror, we are looking at a creature with a redemption wish. We long to restore power, reawaken what is dead, regain health, revenge wrongs, relieve pain and redo mistakes made. We scratch our heads in confusion, and since we have not yet found the Idiots Guide to Redemption in the overloaded self-help section at Barnes and Noble, we continue to make pitiful jabs in the dark at this fiery dragon called Brokenness. We take up the armaments of anger, defensiveness, helplessness, addictions, ambition, pride, materialism, aggression and selfishness to try to fix our broken wing or at least to preserve the good one we have left. But over time our weapons only break more wings. What to do? Redemption is not just an event; it is a journey. It is a journey about understanding love, taken on the back of a man that was beaten for our failings, and crucified for our disobediences. A man that knows about brokenness. A God and Creator that is able to restore our broken wings and redeem the designs of our lives so we can fly heavenwards again when we allow Him to be our wing man. 

Photo credit: http://www.sfexaminer.com/imager/monarch-butterfly/b/original/2639877/4b1f/butterfly.jpg

The Mirage

As I looked down the long, tarred stretch of highway, the glimmering pools of water that lay before me on the road were undeniable. This was Death Valley, one of the least likely places on the planet to offer multiple pools of water. The puddles glistened and danced before my eyes, almost daring me to question their existence. I could have easily been a believer in their authenticity, but I knew that these aqua apparitions were only mirages. Mirages are incredibly tricky things. Our eyes tell us their existence is real, our thirst fuels our belief in them and our hope rapidly embraces them. How many dying desert travelers bless the oasis mirage, only to curse it once they realize it is a lie? We don’t have to be lost in the desert to experience mirages. In fact, they pop up all around us. One of them is the mirage of perfectionism. We each tend to subscribe to a mental image of what the ideal body, house, car, job, social circle and bank account should look like. Sometimes these dreams and goals become mirages to us because we feel we must drink of them or our lives are not satisfied. However, even after we achieve a certain ideal, we find that we still feel empty, unworthy and driven to continue the maddening search for what will satisfy our dehydrated sense of self. Every human is vulnerable to the seductive beckoning of what lies around the bend, but mirage chasing is an exhausting sport. I was entertained by the appearing and disappearing acts of the mirages of water on the road through Death Valley, but when I became thirsty I did not get out of the car and run toward a mirage. Instead I reached for my ordinary plastic water bottle and drank long and deep. May we be wise enough not to lose our lives in the clutch of a sparkling mirage when the life-giving water we crave sits humbly by our side.

Photo credit: http://ckphu.com/site/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/water-bottle-pouring.jpg