Living with Willie

I am no stranger to stars. For a brief time about seven years ago, I shared a flat with Willie Nelson. Before I went to sleep at night, he would gently sit at the end of my bed and dispense sage advice. Willie’s not just a pot head; he is actually quite caring- just your standard grandpa doped up on narcotics. It was a sweet, surreal, time in my life. 

 

In addition to the star struck wonder of hobnobbing with country’s original bad boy, just last night my cousin Gina invited Snoop and the entire Wu Tang Clan to our family card game. What was crazier than them getting invited is that they actually came!  I didn’t believe her, until I looked out the window and saw a tatted up shirtless dude walking towards the door.

When I woke up, I instantly knew, it wasn’t real. I am sorry Inception; there is no way my brain can trick me into believing Snoop Dizzle is coming to play cards with me and the fam- regardless of how real my dream felt. 

I don’t know about your brain, but my brain is smart, or at least that is what my mom tells me. “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”  To trick me, it uses much sneakier tactics than star-clad dreams.  Instead of screaming dreams of sequins and gold, it whispers lies of conspiracy and deceit. My brain has convinced me of some crazy crap. For weeks I was certain that this girl I barely knew was trying to steal my life. The evidence was irrefutable. First, she started going to my church, and then she set up coffee dates to hang out with friends. She then scheduled her coffee hang-outs at MY coffee shop. Technically, our town only had 2 coffee shops, but… she most definitely chose my shop on purpose. She was edging me out, just like that insane babysitter in, The Hand that Rocks the Cradle. Eerie. 

My brain has tempted me to believe LOTS of weird stuff. There are days when I have no purpose or meaning on this earth. Some days it tells me that everyone else around me has no purpose or meaning on this earth. On good days, without warning, my mind starts replaying every past mistake, in SLOW MOTION, thus successfully demonstrating why I will never measure up! 

The brain is a tricky little devil. 

Or, is it the other way, the devil is a trickster with my brain? He is of course the Mac Daddy of lies (John 8:44). Like a lion on the prowl, he waits, looking for someone to ambush (1 Peter 5:8). His attacks are not random. His arrow is precise, targeted and tailored.  Rather than speaking bold-faced lies, he delicately intertwines lies and truths making the two indistinguishable from each other. He aims directly at the center of your secret fears and hidden deficiencies. 

His craft has been perfected, but it is far from flawless.  His arrows are hand crafted, individually fashioned to only work on one specific target, thus making his blow docile when used on someone else. The lies of the devil grow in the dark of isolation, but they die when brought into the light of community.  Speaking loudly the crazy whispers in our head is like waking up from a dream, you are instantly snapped back to reality.

“… so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ...”

(full passage, Ephesians 4:11-16)