Day One Hundred Twenty-Six of 365 – Confessions of a Recovering Bapticostal: From Out of the Night, Part 1

Creating a series of articles focused on a central subject allows for continuity of thought when writing for a long period of time. As I continue this personal journey of writing daily for an entire year, I’m finding the process of series publishing very useful and satisfying. I am currently in the middle of posting about the Confessions of a Recovering Bapticostal. These are my confessions for I am the Recovering Bapticostal; therefore, this series is extremely personal in nature. I’m hopeful you are enjoying these thoughtsl.

Today, I want to start a mini-series within the larger series – Part One of perhaps a three-part mini-series. Here goes.

Back in 2008, Vanessa and I were babysitting two of our three grandsons. The oldest was about 4 years old and his baby brother was about 9 months. Grandparenting is one of the most amazing experiences on this planet. It is also a sharp reminder of why younger people are the ones who have babies and not oldsters like us! It seems that in the early morning hours of that particular babysitting experience, the younger of the two awoke with cries of hunger that assured all in the house would join him in a state of wakefulness.

“Momommy” busied herself fixing a cereal bottle (fast, easy and effective).  She shared with me that “older brother” who was sleeping next to her, rolled over and with sleepy eyes said, “Oh, Brudder!” when his younger sibling began wailing.  She instructed me to go back to bed – an order with which I dutifully complied.  I had almost coaxed myself back to sleep, when I hear shuffling footsteps. Yep, older brother.  He crawled up in bed with me, snuggled next to my back and began gently snoring.  Was I able to sleep . . . really?  Nope!  I was awake!  After only two hours of sleep for me anyway, the die was cast!  I was destined to greet the dawn!

While Momommy worked to get the little tyke back to sleep, I stepped out into the predawn darkness, perhaps the coolest time of the day. and enjoyed the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks and the sweet scent of freshly cut grass.

As I turned back toward the house, I looked up at the stars and a wave of thoughts and emotions swept over me, turning my insides upside down.  To the best of my ability, I will convey them here.

My youngest grandson awakened early this morning with a pang of hunger and we were able to quickly address his needs and get him safely and securely back to sleep.  In places all over the world, scenes similar to the one I described  just now are taking place.  Now some are waking and some are seeking sleep, but nonetheless, similar scenes – many with very different outcomes.  There are those who fight this battle in huts; in lean-tos; under the open air; some in caves; others in orphanages; some in overly crowded rooms shared by multiple families; some in homes similar to ours.  Many more than I would like to acknowledge fight these battles of hunger and sleep without the luxury of readily available resources.  Many find hunger and inadequate housing the norm – not to mention disease; wars and threats of wars; famine; pestilence and the like heaped on top of the inadequacy or those basic necessities of life.

The more I pondered the mental snapshots that moved through my brain in slide show fashion, the more disturbed I became.  I thought about all the pain and suffering going on in our world today and my heart grew extremely heavy; my mind swam; my spirit sank; my soul grieved.

Then I experienced a growing sense of agitation and anger!  How arrogant we as a race have become – in our country and all over this planet!  Wars are being fought for control; control of natural resources; control of business rights; control of trade; control of food distribution; control of borders; control of minds, bodies and spirits; control of people; control of energy; control of education!  Control! Control!  Control! And I am not at all convinced that the wars are being fought for the good of the masses.  No!  I am convinced that most of our battles are to preserve the status quo for a relative selective few on this rock!

Spirituality is not about control. Spirituality is about acknowledging our lack of control over life events. When we focus our efforts on controlling people, places, things and events, those things essentially become our gods. We, in bizarre ways, begin to worship the focus of our efforts and attention and in so doing, abandon the true practice of Spirituality. This is the worst form of idolatry.

True Spirituality seeks the practical. It seeks service to all. It seeks peace. It seeks understanding. It seeks freedom. It seeks the best for everyone.

Insights into Spirituality come from many sources and at various times throughout our lives. Sometimes, as with this Recovering Bapticostal, insights into Spirituality come From Out of the Night.


Mark E. Hundley


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