You Can Fly

I love when kids ask those questions that the rest of us are too afraid to ask…as if it would reveal something of our inner selves we don’t want other “adults” to know about us.

One of my favorite kid questions is if they’ll be able to fly when they get to heaven.

The answer is yes. YES! You will be able to fly in heaven. You won’t need wings either! 

Let’s consider the physics we know this that verify this. 

We belong to the 3^rd dimension. Our bodies anyway…Our soul belongs to God.

Orthodox Jews believe that when a person dies, their soul returns to its Maker. Christians understand this to be heaven. 

If you’ve read any of my blogs on my ideas of dimensions, you know that I believe we are limited in this dimension by the physics laws that govern this universe, this dimension. One of those laws is gravity. Gravity is the force that keeps our feet on the earth. It’s what’s keeps us grounded.

But here’s the deal. Once we leave this dimension we will not be limited by the laws that define the 3D world. So in heaven, you will be able to fly.

I like to think that the only law that governs heaven is Love. True love. That kind of love incorporates everything we know to be right and just. No hate, no pain, no sin. 

Instead, we will praise and worship a loving God, honor a Savior whose sacrifice opened the gates of eternity for us, and show gratitude to the Spirit who filled us with Himself while we worked our way to that eternity. We will be on our knees, we will dance and yes…we will fly. 

Some days I can’t wait. How about you?

(In case you’re interested, here are few posts of mine on dimensions.)

http://lorettaoakes.blogspot.com/2008/03/existing-in-fifth-dimension.html
http://lorettaoakes.blogspot.com/2008/03/expanding-our-universe-expanding-our.html
http://lorettaoakes.blogspot.com/2010/10/great-chasm.html
http://lorettaoakes.blogspot.com/2010/02/prayer-and-physics.html

Good Vibrations

When I was young, my Italian "Grandma Teresa" taught me how to make pizzelles. Those delightful, crunchy waffle cookies laced with anise flavoring were always a favorite. 

As she was teaching about pizzelles, her other baking advice is something I’ve never forgotten. She told me that melted butter had a different chemical composition than solid butter and if you wanted crunchy cookies, you melted the butter. 

It wasn’t til years later that I recognized that bit of wisdom in two ways: (1) melted butter will make my chocolate chip cookies crunchy too! Ugh! How I hate crunchy chocolate chip cookies! (2) I realize how smart my grandmother was to understand the words “chemical composition.” She understood chemistry! And how I hated that subject (when I was younger), too!

While my grandmother had great baking advice she also taught me life lessons. The biggest? “Words can hurt.” 

Now that I don’t hate science I see the wisdom in that lesson as well. 

I’ve often talked about water and how it reacts to words (see blog The Power of Words) as seen by Dr. Masaru Emoto’s crystals.

But does water really understand words? Maybe it reacts to the wavelengths of the phonetic vibrations. 

Each sound has a different wavelength, so perhaps another of water’s traits is how it reacts to the invisible wavelengths of sound.

Our bodies are made up of around 60-70 percent water on a given day. The liquid nourishes our cells, helps with production of new cells, and aids in every other function of our body. 

I remember as a child being fascinated watching the waves of a mountain lake submit to the raging winds. Is it any different with sound waves? Sound vibrations penetrate us just as other invisible waves. Perhaps this is where “words hurt” comes into play even more.

We typically think that mean and angry words hurt our psyche. Is there a chance the wavelengths of words increase our body stress because of their negative wavelengths? 

We’ve all seen the studies that show when plants are spoken to, they flourish. I used to think that was wacky. But now when we remember that all life contains water, maybe it’s not so unbelievable. Plants aren’t “smart” but the water inside reacts to wavelengths just as water on a wind-driven lake. 

Remember Dr. Masaru Emoto’s work? He speaks words to water then freezes it to see what crystals form. If the words are positive, like “thank you,” or “I love you,” the water produces beautiful ornate crystals. If the words are ugly like, “I hate you,” the crystals are completely malformed. 

This means that the water before it was frozen was affected by the wavelengths of the words. What profound trait water contains!

The idea that water reacts to words—where ever that water may be--means my grandmother’s wisdom takes on a whole new meaning. Yes, don’t melt the butter if you want soft cookies, but… 

“words can hurt” takes on a whole new dimension as well. When I speak unkind words, I am not only affecting the other person’s emotional well being, I am also affecting their physical well being. 

Mother Teresa said, “Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.”

She was way ahead of her time or maybe she and my grandmother used to talk about chemistry and physics... 

Either way I’ve learned both Grandma Teresa and Mother Teresa were pretty smart cookies.

The Bunny

The last couple years have been a rollercoaster for me. So many challenges and life changes and I wade through each one as they come up. 

Every aspect of my life was questioned, no stone was left unturned. Light was shed on every weakness, every flaw. Meanwhile, every strength, every quality was tested and probed as well. 

The core of my very being was being attacked in so many ways. 

And for dessert add the dreaded, “Change.” 

Things started stacking up. Little things. Every little thing. And though I continued to wade through each one, I was starting to slow down. At times I’d have to take a break from walking through it, just to breathe. I can do this. I can.

I talked to God about it. A lot. Sometimes I wondered if He was listening. “Are you there? Cause this is too much! Can’t I just float for a bit? Coasting would be nice. I promise I won’t take it for granted.”

I started saying often, “This is too much.” 

But nothing changed. I wondered if maybe this “testing” was too hard. I felt as though I was about to buckle.

Then the littlest thing happened. Out of nowhere, for no reason, the glass front of my oven door just let out a “Pop!” and crumbed into a million pieces. Glass. Everywhere. And the darn thing wasn’t even being used. 

In that moment, that’s what I did. I crumbled into tiny pieces. I sat there crying…again. Darn this stupid “Change.” 

(FYI, I’m saying “Change” because I can’t handle the word menopause. ewh…)

“I’m alive, my kids and husband are alive. Stupid girl. Get up!” I said to myself.

After contemplating running away, I decided to get the broom instead. I started sweeping. But that wasn’t enough. Glass really was everywhere. So after sweeping, I got out the vacuum. Might as well get everything, just to make sure. I vacuumed the room next to the kitchen because…really, I am serious…glass was everywhere. 

Then it happened. A gift. Even wrapped! 

There under the couch it lay, a remnant of the Easter egg hunt a few weeks back. A small foil-wrapped chocolate bunny. How in the world did everyone miss this one? It’s so obvious!

And in that moment I heard deep interior voice….

“I haven’t forgotten you. I hear every word. This gift may be subtle now, but just wait. Someday I won’t have to be so subtle. Someday I’ll have you here. And there will be no more questions, no more worries.”

Then I heard a giggle…deep within.

“Until then, enjoy this tiny gift of chocolate…you need it. Cause, after all, you’re going through the ‘Change’”.

(You might ask yourself what this possibly has to do with science. Well, there’s how chocolate reacts in your brain for one. Then there’s always…”The Change.”….)

Skipping the Scars

In between my freshman and sophomore year in college, I worked for the Denver Tech Center doing everything from planting flowers to mowing medians. On one fateful day I lost a good part of my left big toe in a mowing accident. I remember the first thing I said to my dad when he arrived at the hospital was, “I’m never going to be able to wear sandals again!”

Of course these days, I wear sandals anyway. But the scars of that day are still there—that’s the nature of being human.

The homilist today at church reminded me in a real way how sometimes we skip to the end. At Easter we recognize the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we tend to forget his Passion and the effort it took to get to the “good part.” Our Lord was scourged, beaten, plucked of his beard, and spit on. Then, he dragged a heavy cross full of splinters to hill where he was nailed to it.

We tend to forget the suffering and pain is the true zeal, the true love and sacrifice that comprise his Passion for us. Every step to Calvary was to bear our sins and redeem all of us so we could join him for eternity. “Jesus accepted the world for its brokenness,” the homilist said, “and he came into it anyway.”

In the Luke 24:36-38, the scene is set for Jesus to appear to the disciples. When he does he asks them, “Why are you troubled? And why do questions arise in your hearts?” Then he says to them, “Look at my hands and my feet, that it is I myself.”

In a special moment, Jesus shows them that he is present with them. He reminds them that in an authentic way that his scars are not gone. Those scars prove his love. He paid the ultimate price of “laying down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn 15:13), and he wants to remind us we are worth it.

Sometimes in our daily lives we see ourselves as worthless, as unloved, and unsalvageable. But Jesus reminds us of the truth with his wounds.

See! I did this for you! “Do not persist in your unbelieving, but believe.” (Jn 20:27). We tend to think Jesus was talking about the fact that he was alive, but I think it was something greater.

Every day we feel we fail at something, some days we feel we’ve lost a piece of us. Jesus knew this. It is why he asks, “Why are you troubled? And why do questions arise in your hearts?”

Jesus understands our feelings being adrift and useless. “We’ve failed too many times,” we tell ourselves, and we believe the lie that we can’t come back. But in those words “troubled” and “questions”, Jesus is there to remind us that no matter what we do, we are salvageable. Why do questions arise in your hearts? You are worth these scars. You are mine.

Sometimes as Christians we tend to focus solely on the resurrection and also lament about the lack of peace in our lives.

But you cannot tear one from the other. Just as Jesus told the disciples to look at his hands and feet and see his passion, his zeal for us, he also said to them, “Peace be with you.”

In that moment Jesus communicated that with his redemptive act we can be at peace knowing that we are loved, valued and cherished.

That even in his glorified body he carries us with him in those scars. His sacrifice continues…for us. That, is the nature of being human and Divine.

The Recreation of Love

Nature is an amazing thing. Every day new flowers bloom after their predecessors die, new saplings spout after their tall ancestors are chopped down, and new life is born as old life withers.

We are given night and day. What a gift! Each day offers a new perspective on old problems after a night of sleep. Even sleep is a gift.

In the Old Testament, Adam and Eve turned the gift of a full and flourishing nature into a dying hardship. But God promised hope. In covenant after covenant, He promised love. And when the creature of Time was fulfilled, He gave Love.

The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross cannot be forgotten. In a popular Christian song, the words, “Living he loved me, dying he saved me, buried he carried my sins far away” are prophetic. Jesus had to die.

It was not a pretty death that was quick and painless. Scourging is painful. The leather tassels at the end of the whip are designed to inflict excruciating pain.

Crucifixion is designed to slowly suffocate its victim while mentally imposing as much humiliation as possible. Nails are different than ropes. Nails affix the victim to the splintered wood, tearing the shoulders out of their sockets.

Why do I describe a horror that we’d all like to forget? Because without the SACRIFICE, there could be no REDEMPTION. The hard part came first.

And yet, WE are spared. We sin, we ask for forgiveness and it is granted.

Jesus took the weight of our sins upon himself. How often do we thank him for that sacrifice? That is what these next couple of days are about. Remembering the sacrifice that led to everlasting hope.

Easter is not only a time to celebrate the Resurrection that makes our eternal life possible, but a time to reflect on what came first.

Just as at the end of each day our hearts are heavy with regret and disappointment, the promise of the next day gives our thirsty souls hope. We are not abandoned! Nature reminds us that as the old dies, the new lives. The Casting Crowns' song continues to say that "Rising He justified freely forever..."

Thank God for that reminder! Treasure the gift that gives us hope. And be forever grateful for the sacrifice.

Why I Tore Out My Rose Bush

There is this one rose bush I wish I never planted in my back garden. I was looking for a yellow rose and I settled for one that I shouldn’t have. I planted it knowing that there were more thorns on this variety than I had ever seen. But I wanted the color, so I planted it anyway.

The bush grew like a weed. I was constantly cutting it back, trying to get it to not impede on my other flowers’ space and frequently getting scratched by the plethora of thorns.

Finally I got angry enough to dig it out. I took the shovel, my gloves and the trash can stomped over to the garden. I dug deep, pulled out the root core and threw the whole thing away. Ha! Good riddance, I thought as I swiped the dust off my hands.

A few weeks later I noticed that small shoots of the same rose were popping up close to the original site. I considered the possibility that I did not get the whole root ball, so I dug those out too. I then enjoyed my morning coffee, looking out at my pristine garden.

Again, just a few short weeks later I saw the same thing. More shoots, more thorns, more of the bush coming back.

While I was out there digging again, the Lord spoke to me very gently, very quietly—which is good because I need that type of patience.

He said, “And so it is with your pride, my child. You will dig and dig, and things will look good for a while, but the roots of why you have such pride are still hidden deep in the ground of your heart.”

At that moment I despaired. What was the point if my pride continues to rear its ugly head? And pride is not my only issue! Thankfully the Lord was not done talking to me.

He pressed this into my heart. “You are persistent with this rose bush, be persistent for Me.”

At that moment I realized that this journey I’m on is not a race. I will never fully dig out the roots of all my issues, but it is enough that I continue to dig. My relationship with God should not be static, but dynamic. I must continue to seek out my thorny bushes and remove them and be patient with myself.

My impetus for digging out the rose bush was that it was ugly, thorny and taking over my garden that was otherwise filled with lovely flowers. It was a big task.

Rooting out ugly sin is a big task too. But the hardest part is facing the task and then doing the work to get to the roots.

My idea of the perfect garden has changed. I know it will take work and I am up for the task.

New shoots of the old sin may rear their ugly heads too. It will take work to find the roots, but I will patient and persistent and dig them out so I don’t ruin the rest of the garden.