The Interplay Of Higher And Lower Realities

Those of you who deal with chronic illness may relate to this. I am in an unusual place. I know that I am healed and yet there are symptoms that don't just leave. "The Problem Of Pain" is something that I am dealing with. C.S. Lewis wrote a book by the same name.


I look at scripture that tells me to call out the things that are not as though they are. I cannot go to the pitfall of calling things that are as though they are not. That would be denial.


It is possible to have two realities going on at the same time. On one hand, I am healed (the truth). Praise God for His goodness. But on the other hand, I am hurting (the facts). Praise God, His grace is sufficient for me. Acknowledging Pain does not cancel Faith.


I think Joe Friday from Dragnet had it wrong.

"Just give the Truth, Lord, just the truth." 

I have found that God loves me so much, that He gives me a special measure of grace to endure. Grace is like grease. It helps you squeeze through, when you find yourself in front of the impossible impassible.


I have noticed that a simple pattern, not a formula, but a pattern. Whenever I find myself in physical, emotional, or mental duress, My Lord, who loves every bit of me, whisks me away in encounter.


I now expect a God encounter when things go rough. I believe a ratio exists in the spiritual realm. The degree that the devil attacks you in your life is in ratio to the degree that God is about to pour blessing over you. I don't know why. Someone might say that's bad theology, but that's what I observe.


If you are in the throws of Chronic Illness, I pray that God himself would be your comforter. Jehovah Rapha, please make yourself known to all who read this.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

My Lower Reality tells me that my hands, my feet, and my knees are growling in pain. My ankles, hips, lower and middle back, neck and jaw all scream in agreement. To add to this low, dark choir — my eyes, throat, chest, and abdomen break out in similar cacophony.

Then in unison they cry out,

"When oh when, will you come visit us, Jehovah Rapha?"

If I stay at this plane and do not ascend quickly, Low Reality will attempt to descend further. From behind a long fiery hedge,  Diabetes might jump up, waving his hands in an attempt to gain attention.


He'll try to convince my members (the parts of my body),

"I am the one in charge around this place. What's all this squealing to Rapha? If this continues, I just might call my friend Art. You remember,. . . Arthritis?

With puffed up pride, he continues,

"I'll find a way to get him through the burning hedge. Rapha may have had him cast out from your midst, but the game ain't over yet. Remember what I told you years ago, before you knew who I was? Your hands and feet are mine! I'll see to it that they are hacked right off."

I had had enough. I responded with limited dialogue,

"Hear this again! You're the only one who'll be disarmed and defeated. Go away. I'm calling down a sprinkling of Holy Lamb's blood!"

And pop, like a pin-pierced balloon, he exited.

Upon my direction, the members decided to change posture. Led by Hands, who raised in familiar gesture, and Neck, who tilted Head toward the Heavens, the Membership gathered to seek out Heart's cry.

Higher Reality noticed us from above. High started to descend.

Warm amber fog began to fill my cave. I breathed in the cinnamon goodness, and eight other mountain spices made their way into my upper room.

(The reality of my room changed from cave to upper room.)

As I savored the fragrances from the Lord's hill, my senses yawned out of their lull. The Membership all embraced the strengthening.

Faithful to our friendship, Higher Reality had now fully intersected into my world. Lower Reality bowed on the floor in compliance. deep down, he really knew who was boss.

High instructed me,

"Reach out and grab my hand. Come up, because the King would like to talk to you."

I did as he asked, although my Heart began to race within, prompted by the last few words that High uttered. Heart wanted to run on ahead, but knew that that would be out of order, since he was stuck in my body.

(Hearts tend to get this way around the King of Glory. I know of two guys who were on their way to a place called Emmaus. On the way, they met the King, although they didn't recognize Him. He explained some things to them. Afterwards, their Hearts burned with passion. Hearts can be so emotional.)

When I entered High's world, I was startled by a blinding light to my right. It was an escort. Even though I reacted with stunned eyes, I had the sense that he toned down so I wouldn't freak out.

(Angels are a curious breed. The Ancient of Days, His kingly son, and Ruach, together, fashioned them like polished mirrors. They reflect the glory of the Godhead. The closest ones are the brightest ones. I shudder to think about what might happen if I found myself before the Ancient of Days.)

My escort directed me on path to the King's courtyard. He sensed the fear rising within me. Heart now had second thoughts as his anticipation turned into panic. The escort smiled and spoke words designed to comfort me.

"You know, we angels look at the great enigma built into man. We watch over you in amazement."

The wrinkled folds of puzzlement appeared on my forehead.


I responded with a simple "duh" expression.

"What?"

My host friend continued,

"We live in the presence of the Godhead. We pray and praise, sing and dance, worship and work right in the midst of the High King, the uncreated God who became a man. But you are of a different order. The great enigma is this — your eyes are dulled so you can't see this existence from the other side, as are all of your other senses. And yet, you and the others befriended by the King, praise Him as if He were right in front of you."

Heart and I finally began to relax.

(To be continued)