Archive for the tag ““Waking the Dead””

thrum, thrumming heart

IMG_0404The steady thrum of my heart has suddenly gained greater importance. It does more than just keeping my toes warm and my brain humming. It’s a reminder that my spiritual heart (the core of my soul) is vitally important in my ability to connect to God, live out my calling, and show others the way to great freedom and the Freedom Giver.

Understand, I am not defining ‘heart’ as the emotional roller coaster that culture portrays it to be. I’m using the word heart to define the core of who I am. “My heart is me. The real me. Your heart is you. The deepest, truest you. That is why the heart is central, for what shall we do if we dismiss our self?” John Eldridge, Waking the Dead.

I’ve noticed the more in touch I am with my core, the more I come to know God for who He truly is, and the emotions that used to rule me, are now more like indicators of where I need God to come in and shed light.

I’ve been fighting to get back in touch with my heart. It’s there where God and I do the most work, where I feel most alive, and paradoxically most safe. But it’s also where I hold the deepest hurts and where I am fighting the darkest lies.

“It is simply diabolical, despicable, downright evil that the heart should be so misunderstood, maligned, feared, and dismissed. But there is our clue again. The war we are in would explain so great a loss. This is the last thing the Enemy wants you to know. His plan from the beginning was to assault the heart, just as the Wicked Witch did to the Tin Woodman. Make them so busy, they ignore the heart. Wound them so deeply, they don’t want a heart. Twist their theology, so they despise the heart. Take away their courage. Destroy their creativity. Make intimacy with God impossible for them.”

“Of course your heart would be the object of a great and fierce battle. It is your most precious possession. Without your heart you cannot have God. Without your heart you cannot have love. Without your heart you cannot have faith. Without your heart you cannot find the work that you were meant to do. In other words, without your heart you cannot have life.” John Eldridge, Waking the Dead.

Do you shy away from the word heart? Does it sound hokey, simple, silly, too intimate, weak, scary? I’ve felt that way for a long time. Still do more times than not.

I’d love to hear your thoughts… do you try to silence your heart, why? Are you trying to get in touch with your heart, why?

My challenge to you and myself—investigate the role God designed the heart to play in  life. I may reread Waking the Dead again. But I also believe, the simple pursuit of God, however He decides to take us (through books, counseling, friends, ect), will inevitably lead to an awakening of the heart.



I’ve been gingerly reading through Waking the Dead by John Eldridge.  I read the book in small doses because John’s words turn to fire the minute I ingest them and I see things I’ve long forgotten.  Like childhood.

If I had been self-aware I would have known by age ten that I was an artist.  I had no clue.  During high school I wished into the deep well of my locker that I could be as wild, self-assured and beautiful as the crew that strolled out of art class every day.  And then I’d give myself a shake.  I didn’t believe I had the talent.  I didn’t believe I was worthy.

Yesterday, as I read John’s words, God suddenly broke through my thick excuses.  He created me with a purpose.  For someone like me who generally tends to feel useless, this is a profound idea.   No matter what I think about myself, no matter how far I run from my purpose, God won’t change ‘the plan.’  No I’m not saying that we don’t have free will or we can’t alter our lives with our choices.

What I’m saying is that though I want nothing more than to pursue what God has for me, I tend to run hard in the opposite direction.  I’m afraid I’ll fail; I’m afraid I’ll succeed.  It’s a ridiculous catch 22 that’s kept me in knots for years.  I’ve tried telling God he tapped the wrong girl on the shoulder.  I laid it all out, all the reasons why I’m useless and therefore unlovable.  But today I realized for the last ten years he’s never moved.

He’s still standing there saying, “Heather I created you, I love you, you were born to write.  No matter how far you go that will never change.”

His endless solidity and his kindness have obliterated my excuses.  And I’m profoundly thankful.  Even in the midst of my terrible mistakes I can’t shake God or what he has planned.  And suddenly all the pressure is off and sitting down to write doesn’t feel so terrifying.

Do you believe you have a God-given purpose?  How does it keep you grounded?  How does it set you free?

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