The Tattered Cocoon.

Thousands of cents have been cast in the pool of thought this past week as to what our presidential election has signified to them. Here are a measly two more. This is an imperfect telling of the way I perceive it, not necessarily the way it is. There are also generalizations, and as such, it should be noted there are always plentiful exceptions. I was fortunate to have a most marvelous and loving childhood, filled with adults who served God and embraced Grace. We did what we knew to do, and there was plenty of Good that God brought about,  but now, I think we are seeing that as a whole, it was not enough and perhaps even helped get us here. Thank you for reading with the understanding that the words written were penned by a heart that is neither bitter or better.


The Tattered Cocoon


I have spent 35 years in a cocoon of vast proportion. Gratefully, for me, it was a happy place and the intentions of most of those who maintained it were good. Not everyone who shared the cocoon could say the same, but we all shared a common purpose and due to our size, a daunting majority and thus, decisive power.

During the early years, framed pictures of "The Gipper" and Just-Say-No Nancy were displayed in my grandpa's study, I proudly wore my "I'm Worth Waiting For Pin" on my tapestry vest and as all good Christian youth's did, I learned how to hand out tracts without making direct eye contact. As I got older, in good faith, I wrote checks in black ink made to private for organizations that commissioned "called" believers to do the dirty work of the Kingdom. We were not aware, not most of us, that there were cracks in our tightly spun world. There was enough prosperity at the time to afford the building of more cocoons within the cocoon and we thought this was surely a sign of God's blessing upon our strengthening numbers. 

It was, for most, a secure place. For others, it was not, but when we caught wind of the ones who tarnished our collective "testimony", we rushed to oust the fallen ones and their families and pretend it never happened, quickly patching up the cocoon's hole from which they were deposited so no one from the outside could tell.  We would sometimes call out and implore "the lost" to clean up their act and join the bustling, monochromatic masses inside the clear boundaries of our walls. Joining a majority is quite easy and there is comfort in a sense of fitting in the most popular club in the country. 

Over time, we threw our money into politicians and their party's policies that supported what we supported, we built big organizations that did big things on behalf of our big colony. We gathered together several times a week to pray for those who served, and those who they were serving, that they might come to the saving knowledge of Jesus during our well-publicized "outreaches" so that they could keep us comfortable in the lifestyle we had become accustomed to without having to get our hearts dirty developing relationships outside of the cocoon. This was not every body, but most bodies. It was my body, and half-used heart. It was all we knew. Our walls were thick, we carried weight, and like Onward Christian Soldiers we marched, looking upward and inward so much that we barely knew what to do when we let our gaze shift to what was around us.

This is what made the sixth of November of this year so jarring for so many. We did not realize just how thin our walls had become, how ineffective our strategy was or how diminished our troops were. New converts and new members weren't exactly a boom in recent years, but still, we thought if we fought hard enough and stood our ground loudly enough, that there was hope for our comfortable Christian lifestyle country yet. It was a disconcerting loss of majority power 

and yet, 

what is perhaps the most startling is this:

Cocoons were never meant to be constructed for long-term occupation.

We were never instructed to crowd inside and depend on Presidents, policies or

pastors to carry out our individual and collective mission which is:

Love your God with all your heart, 

all your soul,

and all your mind 

and to also

Love your neighbor as yourself. 

Here we stand, the tattered walls of the big cocoon exposed to the world, legs shaky at the clear realization that something has shifted. Our numbers no longer have the upper hand, our well-funded programs no longer sway policy.There are those who will go back to laboriously trying to salvage what little there is left and make it look presentable to a "watching world".  Good for them. There was a time I would have naturally joined those pupose-driven efforts, for it is less a mess to rally together around a legislation than it is to spur each other on to faith, good works and loving our neighbors--ALL of them.

While I have, in the past few years, seen perspective from outside the cocoon, I have recently realized just how much security I still found by standing in it's shadows. Cowering in the shadows is no better than being curled up inside.  It is now that I  have an even greater awareness in cultivating a lifestyle that was exemplified and written about several hundreds of years ago, in which I use the wings He gave me to...


~Continue to grow up and stretch out, daily renewing my faith in the Love, Strength, Grace and Mercy that is on tap from a Source most vast. 


~Ask God, every morning, every noon day, every moment I can remember, to keep my eyes wide open for opportunities in my day to extend the same Love, Strength, Grace and Mercy that I find extended generously to me.


~Do not worry about tomorrow. This also includes forsaking the speculation of what could, should, might, maybe, will definitely and most certainly will probably happen. There is a place for being wise and prudent, but the words my God wrote leave no justification for worrying.


~Instead of spending a majority of my time burying my head in theology, trying to figure out exactly what prophecy is being unfolded in this exploding world or spending hours rereading what I have already read a thousand times, seek to find out how I can live, love and serve the people who live on my street and share my community and then DO IT. Transforming change is impossible to be had by legislation and law. Isn't that the very lingo we Christians speak? Not through the law, but through Grace. Here is my chance.

~Spend time with those who share the knowledge of being Loved by God, who hold the same purpose to make it tangible in the ways that are Divinely orchestrated by the One who sees all, and knows all. In other words, we might be free lance writers , but we all write on behalf of the same Editor. We must take care of each other, for loving the unfamiliar or the unlovely can be, and will most certainly be, unnatural and at times, exceedingly hard. And...in order to be a good writer, you must LIVE what you write, or else you'll just be rewriting material someone already wrote and that, my friends, is a dull read.

***

Do not get me wrong. Times are tough, and they will probably get a whole lot tougher, for everyone. I still am not thrilled with the place we are at right now, but to continue to complain and worry is a waste of God's time. The world as a whole is a scary place right now and there would be every temptation for me to start spinning a personal cocoon, replicating the tired, tattered one. Yet for those like me who spent years in the cozy lighting of familiarity that a common cocoon affords, this exposure to the light of reality could spark the most life-giving movement of Jesus-followers this generation has ever seen. It will not happen in the hallowed halls of Washington, or at a march or a rally...it will happen when we finally take seriously the command as individuals to love our neighbors as we love ourselves and hunker down to do so.