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Jack Flacco wrote a touching post called a change of heart that I really enjoyed, that made me laugh and reminded me of some long forgotten memories. I am often drawn to authors who have Christ within them, even though I cannot always see Him clearly, I can still sense Him in their words. As a child I read so many books looking for evidence of God hidden somewhere in those pages and I found Him, He often revealed Himself to me in the words on those pages, in such a magical way.

Dean Koontz is someone I read a lot of when I was younger, his dark, swirling tales of suspense the last place you would think to go looking for God, and yet I’d turn those pages and sense something, hope, redemption, love for human kind perhaps. Dean Koontz taught me that there are no accidents in the world, that God spelled backwards is dog, and that dogs are the perfect vehicle to teach those of us who haven’t got the eyes to see about the kind of unconditional love our Father has for us.

No, God is not a dog, but I often think He put His grace and purity of spirit in them, so we could come to understand what that looks like.

I have a history with zombies too, not a real one but a metaphorical one, as in addiction and other dysfunctions are rampant, and I have sometimes had this idea that I am being surrounded and swarmed by the undead. Zombies are a pretty common theme in our culture right now, the Walking Dead, the undead dead, all rather symbolic and profound revelations about some long forgotten awareness we have about what it truly means to be dead to Christ. Follow the zombie path down the rabbit hole a bit farther and you encounter this interesting peek into the human psyche, this awareness in the collective human consciousness of how we recognize that a creature could be fully animated and yet totally lacking the Spirit of Life.

“For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.”

A few years back when I was distressed and heavily involved in prayer murmuring about the excessive number of zombies in my world, I took a walk, went around the corner and walked face first into a dozen of them. It was an entire tribe of zombies, all dressed up and doing a pub crawl. Very funny, Lord. I pray for relief from zombies and you drop me on my head right in the midst of them…

It was a particularly memorable moment because as I stumbled around for a few weeks spiritually, metaphorically, I eventually tangled up in some yellow caution tape on the side of a building, but when I looked it didn’t say “caution” at all, it said reserved.  Just one word, reserved, but it resonated through my entire being, it was the precise answer to prayer I had been seeking.

Reserved, set apart, having that hedge of protection around us, very reassuring really.

Jack Flacco begins with, “And earlier this year, I was not into miracles.” I know, right? Me too. I can’t tell you how many times I have informed God that I just don’t believe in such things.

Welcome to the kingdom Jack Flacco, and to the world of endless miracles.

tinkerbell

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