small disclaimer: I wrote this about a month ago, when things were different, did not intend on sharing it, or really doing anything with it. I just wanted to write. It's got lots of bad grammar, incorrect sentence structure, and I'm not fixing any of it. But even though the situation has changed a lot since then, I really think that some of the content is worth sharing.... about Jesus and all that. so here it is:
Here goes, day 2 of sort of stream of conciousness. I don’t really know if I type fast enough to do “stream of conciousness, nor if it would be different for me than the normal type of writing for me, since I rarely edit, and I rarely stay on topic without jumping around. Oh well. Once again. Here goes. My house. It’s the one thing that’s been irking me lately. I don’t want to be there, no secret. I wonder if I could’ve contributed more. I wonder what will happen to me, I wonder where I’m going next. I know in my head that God will provide, that there really is no cause to be anxious or worry. But I am worried about staying and worried about going. I long for a real home like I haven’t longed for in a very long time. Peace, quiet, music, no craziness, lightness, people smiling and having a good time. I’m tired of all this. Stress, unrest, dog’s fighting, people fighting, greed, selfishness, denial, falling, sin. I don’t want to be around it anymore God, I want rescued. I’m not in a desperate state or anything, I just want to have some semblance of peace from you. I want to see redemption. I taught A. to spell his name today, pointed to the magnetic letters one by one in the kitchen on the fridge. He’s pretty awesome. He can be a brat like any other kid too, but he really is sweet. And right there as I was leaving the house, my heart broke. I saw things. A beautiful garden, a house full of people who definitely weren’t perfect and were flawed but who nonetheless loved Jesus, and his light – the light of knowing him was showing in their eyes. And then I came back down from the cloud. I said bye to A., he asked where I was going. I told him out to a coffee shop and he promptly replied “bye eein” in his cute ‘r’-less way. And my heart broke. It broke when I found out M. came home last night drunk as hell. It broke when I thought of J.. It broke when I thought what an amazing kid A. is. It broke, It broke. It broke. Why is all this crap happening? I don’t want to see it happen. I don’t. I took a picture of M. on the porch at night playing his guitar months ago, when I was obsessed with redemption. I hope I’m still obsessed. But sometimes redemption looks ugly or bleak. Sometimes we don’t see it. Sometimes we blow up the beauty in front of us that God is putting together because the ache or the fear is too much for us to stand, and he is too much for us to comprehend. He transforms our messes, his goodness supersedes our pushing away and our destruction. We can ultimately turn our face from him, but he will still bring redemption, but only those who have eyes will see it, only those who have ears will hear it, and only those with open hands will receive it. I don’t understand myself and I don’t understand others when we openly shun the only thing that will cleanse us, and reconcile us and make us able to stand in God’s presence. I don’t understand this disdain for blood. I do wish I had done more. I’m not convinced that it would have changed anything, but I know that God can change things. I wish I had pointed to Jesus more, and less to myself or nothing. I wish I’d had courage to do things despite the reaction I knew – or was convinced they-my actions- would produce. I think it’s ok that I want to cry right now. I don’t feel better than anyone, and I don’t feel ultimately responsible for anyone’s salvation. But I do feel the brokenness. I do feel that. I do feel the ache. And it cuts. I don’t care how happy people in asheville want to feel. It’s a sad desperate day unless Jesus is in it. You can stuff all the people and activities and warm fuzzy’s in there you want. But I’m not convinced. I’m a consumer. I’m a greedy person, I will continually manipulate goodness for my own benefit. Hell, I don’t even know how to really, truly appreciate goodness unless it’s through him to begin with. And that is humanity. We chose, and we’ve been living in the ramifications of that choice ever since, and the only way back is through knowing jesus. India. Starving kids, the world in rubble, half –destroyed pieces, and yet we deny it daily, and we enter into the day thinking everything is sunshine and daisy’s without ever being confronted with the deep gaping wound in our flesh and in the world around us. Transcendence isn’t the answer. Blind ignorance isn’t either. It takes courage to look the world in the face and myself, marred, in the mirror. I don’t have it. I don’t. Some days I don’t even have the courage to acknowledge it. Can we just skip that part, Jesus? I really just want to have a happy day today. Can we just pretend for one day that the world around me is really, just ok, as is? Can we paint a pretty picture, like thomas kincaid? But no. He won’t have any of that. On the days I choose this, I deny him. On the days I choose him,there is no denying of the brokenness, despite my lack of courage. But the days I choose to acknowledge him and the brokenness are the best ones. On those days, I know I need him. It may be a struggle for joy, but at least it’s authentic- in the truest sense. And at least my salvation isn’t in myself. There is no pretense. We’re in a war, and our hearts are being torn to bits by the shrapnel. But hope. Hope holds us up. Or as merton says ‘hope deprives us of everything that is not God, in order that all things may serve their true purpose as means to bring us to God.’ Hope will deprive us, but it will be good deprivation. And it will be hard deprivation because we will struggle, and we will want. Always wanting. Maybe it’s never wanting the right things or in the right manner that’s our trouble. Our hope in God though, that will never disappoint. And here’s the crux: all this brokenness is necessary to, and a direct result of, a people who refuse to believe that we are constantly dependant on, and indebted to someone greater than ourselves. That indeed we cannot fix ourselves. We can’t. And that ultimately, ‘fixing’ is actually not a state of simply good morality, fixing is actually a state of our soul- and of our relation to God. You could be the most ‘moral’ person on earth by our standpoint and be the furthest away from being ‘fixed’. Because the marred state of our insides isn’t just the result of external things, it’s the result of a concious breaking of relationship- the relationship being the thing that actually makes people moral….or shall we say righteous. You are righteous- you become righteous through your relationship with Jesus- with God. You literally become new. Not a robot who performs x and y to get to z. The love doesn’t come from being loved by others- not by that form of reciprocation, nor by forced actions, strength of willpower, it comes from knowing Jesus, and being changed by knowing him. This is the good news in the midst of the dark. He is the truth walking around with the flashlight, taking our hands and walking with us so that our feet know where to go. We just take his hand. That’s all. And we just keep hold of it. And we ask him to hold tightly to ours even when we are unsure.
And when things break his heart, they break ours. When he is grieved, we are. When he is pained, we are. When he rejoices over his relentless love and redemption for us, so do we. When he sees the blood of Jesus and says we are clean, so do we. When he says take hope and joy in the midst of all this, in him, and spread it- not in ignorance of the bombs going off around us, but in defiance of it- We do. When he says he is more powerful, more loving, more of everything good than any of the worse we can imagine, we believe him. And when we take Jesus’ hand with us in dark places, we take his flashlight too, and he shines brightly in the dark. He does. He shines brightly in the dark.
