Saturday, May 28, 2011

Tangled in a Web of Glory

***WARNING*** SPOILER ALERT: If you have not yet seen Disney’s movie “Tangled” you might want to watch it before reading this. If you don’t mind knowing a few things going in to it, read on at your own discretion.

One of my favorite things to do in life is to find correlations between the trivial and the important. I love finding analogies between the physical and the spiritual world. And I love watching movies and discovering symbolisms in stories that also present an element of truth in my own life or in something I’ve seen in the real world.

When I saw Tangled, I was immediately captivated with the representation of Rapunzel’s hair. If you’re still reading you’ve probably seen the movie but I’ll give a little recap to freshen your minds. Rapunzel, according to www.imdb.com, has hair seventy feet long and a little over ten pounds in weight (that’s one strong neck!) and is prohibited from cutting it because of the “magical qualities that it possesses,” in the words of Flynn Rider. All of her life her hair has had the power to heal wounds and reverse aging effects, which is why her “mother” keeps her captive in a tower and doesn’t allow her to leave.

A ways into the movie Flynn gets a cut on the palm of his hand, and for the first time Rapunzel shows him the extent of what her hair can do. Here’s the clip if you want to watch it:



As Rapunzel sings the healing incantation, the hair begins to glow with a beautiful, magical radiance while wrapped around Flynn’s hand. When she’s finished, the glimmer fades and he unwraps the hair to find his hand completely restored. This scene is filled with mysterious wonder at the enchantment of this young girl’s gleaming long blonde hair. The song is beautifully mesmerizing and you can’t help but get sucked into this magical moment.
Fast forward to the end of the movie. Now, if you’re still reading and you haven’t seen it, this is really going to give a lot away. So be extra forewarned. Here’s a clip for this part as well. Start around 4:15 unless you fancy watching Mother Gothel plunge to her death first:



Flynn has come back to the tower to save Rapunzel. Mother Gothel has stabbed Flynn in the side of his abdomen, and as he takes in his last few breaths in a swift move of heroic fashion he slices Rapunzel’s hair off before she has the chance to heal him. Mother Gothel freaks out then falls out the window to her very, very timely and overdue death (she was probably half a millennium old by then). Flynn and Rapunzel share a moment before Flynn breathes his last. Holding him in her arms, Rapunzel softly sings the healing incantation and a tear falls from her eye, landing on Flynn’s cheek.

Here’s where it matters.

The tear seeps into his cheek and a tiny spark of light glimmers for a second. It lights up again into a sort of flower shape and then travels down to his side. Beams of light suddenly begin flowing out of Flynn’s gaping wound and in a display of brilliance and splendor it courses through the tower, filling empty spaces and flashing across the room up, down, and around them both. Rapunzel is in awe of what she sees. The beauty being poured out of the broken flesh in Flynn’s side is astounding. The scene is truly breathtaking.

The healing of Flynn’s hand was extraordinary and captivating. It was beautiful. It really was. But it was small. There wasn’t much to it. The song was sung, the hair lit up, and a small laceration was restored. No doubt the power of Rapunzel’s hair was experienced in that moment, but comparatively speaking, it was minimal. When the tear fell and an explosion of light burst forth surrounding Flynn and Rapunzel in brilliance and wonder and beauty, there is no doubt this was more glorious than the first. A knife wound to the abdomen brought more glory than a slight cut on the palm of a hand.

So what’s the big deal?

Christ is most glorified when we allow Him to shine forth out of the most broken and shattered places in our lives. Those awful hidden places in our hearts that we’ve buried deep down inside and want never to see the light of day… those are our knife wounds that He is longing to saturate with his healing touch, to claim victory over and to set up a fireworks display within and pour out the glory of His healing power. So often we just bring Him the little hand wounds, let Him wrap them in His proverbial hair, breathe a sigh of relief at the momentary glint of light, and then go on our merry way. But how many of us have been stabbed so deeply by life, whether self-inflicted by sin or circumstances out of our control, and we’re walking around with gaping wounds desperately needing His attention, but we refuse to come to Him. Why? If we try to handle it separately from the Lord, just like Flynn we will lie on the floor in that tower and slowly bleed to death. Maybe not a physical one but a spiritual one. How often we forget that He doesn’t just long to heal us for our benefit. He gets the glory! Your darkest and most deathly area of separation from Him could be the most beautiful and bring the most glory to God, our Savior and Redeemer.

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 2:9-10

We should be glad to bring Him our brokenness. God is glorified in our pain when we choose to bring it to Him. Not only does He promise healing and restoration but He promises Himself. He is the essence of Beauty and all Glory that could ever be manifested in you.

Let Him have your broken pieces.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Clinging and Clutching

After cleaning out my car a few days ago I began walking back to the house when a strange sensation came over me. I suddenly became very aware that my hands were empty. Such an odd feeling, both hands swinging by my sides with wind wafting between my fingers. What was I expecting exactly? I suppose my car keys in the moment, or my cell phone. But the moment of realization was glaring, as if to say, "look here, take note of this sensation." It shouldn't be abnormal to have empty hands. Should it? (Of course situationally one might argue I should have had my car keys since I had just been in my car, but this is not the point! Debaters, sit down.)

It is the day and age of technology. Everywhere we go there are gadgets in people's hands, held to the ears, captivating the eyes at attention. And if it's not a technological device, it's a purse, or a bag, isn't it? The last time I can remember sitting in one place having nothing to capture my attention was never. And it's not just that we're used to it, it feels awkward without anything. The idea of waiting for a table at a restaurant or to board an airplane might not readily spark a concern, but if the moment comes and there's nothing to occupy my thoughts and focus, it's awkward isn't it?

So what does it all mean?

There's a Tenth Avenue North song that I love called "Empty My Hands."

Empty my hands
Fill up my heart
Capture my mind with You

To put it simply--I need to walk with empty hands. I need to be content in a sedentary position without something to read, or to text, or to play, or to simply look occupied. This isn't merely about physicality. Why is it strange to walk twenty steps from the car on the street to the front door with empty hands? I feel naked. I find myself grasping at the air, looking for something to clutch, to cling to.

And yet I have been asked to empty my hands. The two most hated words my ears could hear for the past eight years would be "let go."

I don't want to let go. Ever. I am a clinger to what I grow to love most and that old familiar gut-wrenching pit-of-my-stomach feeling tends to rise up at the sound of those two words.

Let go.

In a world where virtually all things are relatively within our grasp, it's hard to say no, first of all. Second of all it's incredibly harder to let go once you've started holding on. Sign me up as the poster child of this concept.

When we come to a resting place on this journey of life, our tendency is to pull out the cell phone and play a game while we wait. Something to occupy the attention span until life begins moving again. But I don't want just any attention-holder.

"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 40:10

He has called me to be still... and to know. This means I must drop whatever is in my hands and walk more swiftly towards the One who deserves my undivided attention, focus, and devotion. Walking with empty hands shouldn't feel weird or awkward. It should feel free, and liberating. Without the distractions I habitually return to, I am free to look only to Him, following hard towards whatever He places in front of me to grasp onto. Never clinging to any but Him, but accepting the cup He presents before me on a daily basis.

Capture my mind with You, Lord. I empty my hands before You.

"Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith." Hebrews 12:1-2