Nagging Memories

There’s something troubling me.

On the one hand, your sense of moral conviction does not reside in your physical heart. The lamp of spiritual truth would burn just as brightly if you depended on an artificial heart to pump your blood. On the other hand, there is simply no way to deny the unique ability of the heart as a sensory organ. If it’s not your physical heart pushing out that powerful electromagnetic field, then something in your body near the heart is doing it. The field has been measured and it emanates from that spot just to the left of your sternum and inside the ribcage. I suppose the question of whether an artificial heart takes away that measurable field is something that hasn’t been tested by the medical researchers who discovered the heart’s sensory field. Thus, I am not able to explain just exactly how the literal sensory heart connects to the metaphorical heart of moral conviction, only that there appears to be a connection.

What I can declare without reservation is that when you make a conscious effort to connect your awareness with that sensory field in your heart, it changes your whole perspective on reality. It’s more than my personal experience; it’s amply testified by others on this blog and in other places on the Net. Further, once you’ve entered that realm of awareness, there’s no going back without something inside of you dying first.

As part of that shift in consciousness comes a sensitivity to moral health. Not just your own, but the environment in which you live. More to the point, it pulls you into a place where your moral health becomes deeply connected to the moral environment. It’s not a question of dependency, but the interaction is there. Your sense of internal peace can be afflicted by what’s wrong around you, and there comes a call inside of you to deal with it in some way to avoid going insane. Each of us in our unique calling from God has to discover what we were meant to do about the context in which He has placed us. Between you and the Lord, no one else can fully understand just where you will find that balance point between bearing up under sorrow and taking some action to reduce the sorrow.

But there are some common elements for all of us. A part of that is healing old moral wounds. That is, the Spirit of the Lord works through this moral sensitivity to heal those wounds, but the means of doing so is where things tend to be unique. A part of the common experience is how the ghosts of bad experiences come back to haunt you. Pay particularly close attention to something that makes you feel out of sorts, as if you were being pulled out of your normal self. In the mirror of such moments of torment, anything that makes you feel like someone you don’t really know — someone you may not like — there is a signal in the heart to seek the Lord’s face for an answer: What does this torment signal for me?

I can assure you that sometimes the answer may literally take years before it reaches some point where your conscious mind knows what to do about it. That’s not meant to scare you, but to assure you that there is always an answer. You have to realize that it may require moving you a very long way before you are in the place where it starts to make sense.

Over the years there have been a handful of troubling experiences that play over in my mind, creating a very disturbing atmosphere in my soul. It’s not some sort of guilt, either false or justified. It’s an unanswered question: Why does this still trouble me so much? Why does it provoke deep emotions that conflict with each other? I replay this event and test variations, changes in how I could have responded, to see if any different choices make better sense. Could I had done it better? Sometimes that’s enough to find a solution and I get peace about that thing. Sometimes it continues beyond that, typically because it’s much bigger than my own failures. When something from the past makes me angry enough to kill, it’s a signal that there is an unanswered question with a much wider implication.

What’s troubling me today is something that merits a separate blog post.

About Ed Hurst

Disabled Veteran, prophet of God's Laws, Bible History teacher, wannabe writer, volunteer computer technician, cyclist, Social Science researcher
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5 Responses to Nagging Memories

  1. Pingback: Kiln blog: Nagging Memories | Do What's Right

  2. Linda Cooke says:

    Sometimes I feel like I am not wholly here, in the here and now of this world. I don’t feel isolated, rather separate or distant. I am keenly aware of my surroundings and events, both close and remote; whether experienced directly or via some form of communication.

    I sometimes wonder if this is a self induced mechanism to protect myself, a manifestation of mistrust or fear on my part, or am I simply transcending the influential sphere of this world’s reality and finding a better place to dwell?

    I ponder on this a lot lately. Any thoughts? I know you are not a mind reader, but I would appreciate your input.

    Like

  3. pastor says:

    I would hesitate to call it “a better place to dwell” so much as just another place. It really depends on the context. For example, some folks are pulled down and distracted with the constant hammering and jangling of the nerves when they are in a lot of pain. But pulling back from your physical self is a sanity measure that gives you time of rest from the nerve-wracking effect of the pain. I can’t say whether too much of that pull-out is dangerous, but I’ve seen it do more damage than good a couple of times. The rule of faith is that, until you are gone, whatever you do has to build your witness to the world around you, and not hinder it.

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  4. Linda Cooke says:

    Oh, well, witnessing is a constant thing regardless of what else my little self is experiencing. This whole fire thing has brought a lot of new people into my life. And, Father has given me many opportunities to express His Love. It’s actually been amazing! It’s my aversion to the political and societal events that is keeping me out of ‘that’ part of the world. That is what I am/have separated myself from. I do have a little difficulty being specific enough about things, I know. ….

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  5. pastor says:

    It’s my aversion to the political and societal events that is keeping me out of ‘that’ part of the world.

    Well, there’s nothing wrong with pushing that stuff aside. You are the only person who knows what merits your attention.

    Your fire is having a similar effect to my bicycle collision; it puts your witness in front of folks you’d otherwise not meet. I’m expecting more chances to witness soon, though I’m sure it won’t include any more physical trauma. I’m convinced that the stuff you are ignoring (politics, etc.) will pull me into an interesting adventure soon.

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