Author: Jason Kanz

I am a neuropsychologist at the Marshfield Clinic and author of Soil of the Divine (2017), Living in the Larger Story: The Christian Psychology of Larry Crabb (2019, editor), and Notes from the Upper Room: Lessons in Loving Like Jesus (2020).

Bold Love

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O Sovereign Protector,

The world is full of dangers, which threaten at every turn.
The complex effects of the fall invade every facet of our existence.
We witness breakdown every day,
of physical health
of relationships
of the church itself.
And still, LORD, you are unwavering and whole.

Grant me courage for the day ahead
to live so fully in the security of your love for me
that I can say what must be said
and do what must be done.
I am often overrun by fears,
but you say, O LORD, that the righteous
are bold as a lion.
May I be ruled, not by anxieties,
but by love.

Let it be.

Radiate

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Indwelling Spirit,

I am aware of so many sinful tendencies within myself,
self centeredness,
lusts of the flesh,
chasing distractions.
They crowd out the God-life.
I end up pursuing ten-thousand things that do not glorify you.
I live for self and fail to love.
Life becomes about satisfying my passions
and fulfilling my comforts.

So overwhelm me with your Holy Spirit
that I am left with no option
but to radiate peace, goodness and beauty.

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Life consists of three loves:
Love of God,
Love of self,
Love of others.
If we are to live fully;
If we are to grow toward wholeness;
If we are to feed the hungry hearts of others
Each love must be developed separately
Then carefully and patiently integrated.

-Betty Skinner

Shards

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Divine Restorer,
I can offer nothing to you
except my disintegrated self.
The worries of the world,
temptations and lusts,
broken relationships,
physical imperfections,
continually batter my soul–

fragmenting, fragmenting–

shards
useless on their own,
yet you, O LORD, are able
to make broken things whole,
to infuse my sinews with grace,
and my bones with steadfast love.

Re-created not just whole
but holy.

The Key

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In the shadows I sit
imprisoned in fear,
alone and afraid
year after year.

I wonder alone
will darkness lift?
constant companion
suffering’s “gift.”

I see Jesus coming
carrying a key,
I think to myself
he’ll set me free.

He opens the door
and enters the space,
he sits down with me
tears stain his face.

I ask, “are we leaving?”
He says, “no, not yet.
Your pain continues,
but child, don’t fret.”

He gazes at me
with love in his eyes,
“I’ll be with you
until darkness dies.”

Do Pharisees know they are Pharisees?

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Do Pharisees know they are Pharisees? Do I?
A commitment to God
…at least their conception of Him.
A passion for the Word
…at least their understanding of it.
A deeply held belief in right and wrong
…their rightness
…and another’s error.

Operating from a place
of protectionism and control,
not compassion and love.
Strongly insisting upon “God’s way”
not realizing that it is actually
their way they promote.

Loveless, graceless, Spiritless…
exchanging control for love,
speaking for listening,
rules for wisdom,
self-righteousness for humility,
religion for Jesus.

Pharisees are not dead,
they merely wear a different cloak.

 

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You looked with love upon me

and deep within, your eyes imprinted grace;

this mercy set me free,

held in your love’s embrace,

to lift my eyes adoring to your face.

-St. John of the Cross

I Am Free

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I keep coming back to the questions, “What is freedom?” and “Do I live free?”

I am free.

I am free to tell people how much I value them.
I am free to speak out against injustice.
I am free to give lavishly.
I am free to err on the side of grace.
I am free from needing to demand my rights

or simply from the need to be right.

I am free to serve.
I am free from the need to identify ways in which I am better than others.

Or worse.

I am free from the pressure to perform.
I am free to be goofy.
I am free to like musicals more than football

or painting more than hunting.

I am free to rest.
I am free to take off my mask.
I am free to read from The Message.
I am free to sing at the top of my lungs in the shower

even Air Supply.

I am free to cross the party line.
I am free to drink a cup of coffee

or five.

I am free to not know something.
I am free to be curious and creative

even childlike.

I am free to be emotional

and logical.

I am free to call it like I see it.
I am free to disagree.
I am free to cry at TV shows

even “Anne with an E.”

I am free to color outside the lines.
I am free to hold hands with my kids.
I am free to say no.
I am free to do what I want to do.

I am free. 

Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you.-Galatians 5:1, The Message

Memory

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We often think of the brain as a warehouse for memory. We imagine that information comes in through our senses, is cataloged, and shelved in the deep recesses of our hippocampus. At some time later, perhaps, the memory may be retrieved and put to use.

But it is more akin to a symphony. It is made not of drab packages containing recollections, but a neuronal harmony recreating the score that we call memory.