Somewhere between a flat tire and the end of the world

It's been one of those days. I can't remember how this ends, but I've been here before - where I keep slamming my head into the same wall, and wondering why I do that.

I wrote a long letter to an old friend today - that felt good, although I fear I dumped a little too much reality into it. Don Miller says there's always a secondary conversation happening when we communicate - stuff we don't verbalize, but that we say with our posture and hands, with our inflection, our eyes, our commas. It's the language of what's really going on - what our hearts are really saying, what we are to cautious to speak. I hate that, but I know it's true. And I don't think Jesus did that with his people. So why do we?

If I really said everything I was thinking, I'm pretty sure someone would regret it. I would wish I had kept something hidden - so there would be a piece of me to call my own. But I think love means going deeper than normal relations - digging at the heart of someone, proving to them that you value what they've been keeping locked up in their hearts. Showing them your heart, and hoping they'll trust you enough to open up as well. Tricky.

So why do we edit ourselves? I mean, at the risk of shocking ourselves, maybe we should try saying what we actually feel. I use that word intentionally - saying what we THINK could turn in to a big mess. But what we feel sometimes can be the compass to what's really happening. Not that our emotions aren't flawed - but we can certainly expect them to act as alarms to what we might need to address. There's a reason they're there, and we should pay attention.

All the people I love...and only about a third of them have ever heard me say that. Why is it so hard? I have expected truth out of them - why do I let myself off so easily? Maybe we're supposed to be scared of that - so that we'll have to risk something and die just a little whenever we extend ourselves to love someone else. Maybe that's how it's built. If we never feel that tug of torture when we say those words, we've never really experienced the whole thing. Love produces the courage to say it, the certainty that makes you go there even if...everything else.

Still.

I think it's the difference between a flat tire and the end of the world. We treat the flat tire like the horrible, debilitating interruption that costs us time and money on the day we especially don't need the interruption, throwing our hands up at the universe. But although in the context of daily life those reactions seem appropriate, they leave us with no response left to give the end of the world. I mean, if the end was today - this VERY day - how would we respond? Would we be sad we had spent all that emotional energy venting over our inconvenience, when we should have taken that same energy and said something so important that someone's life could depend on it? Like, "I love you." That could change your life. It HAS changed lives. It does so every day. But we'd rather go through our lives saving moments of frustration for our emotional rushes rather than conjuring them for more important things like recognizing the ones you couldn't live without. I do it too. I just wish I didn't.

I grew up a little uncomfortable about that L word. I heard it from my parents and siblings, but had a hard time using it on friends. And the only boyfriend I ever had didn't hear it from me. Stupid English - we only have one word to use to describe all this range of emotion, so we'd rather not use it than risk being misunderstood. But would being misunderstood be such a bad thing? So someone feels just a little more loved that day than you intended them to feel from you. So what?? Better to have said it, I think.

But then, I'm crazy. I mean, I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to this stuff...I'm just venting my own frustration about how I do or do not filter myself around people. I'm considering how I relate well, and how I fail to relate all together. I just think we've been bred to be so cautious that we're losing half the experience of life that we were meant to know.

May the people I truly love never wonder how I feel.

Let's hear it for fire!

I like my chiminea.

Although I don't have a patio that looks like this, I do at least, have a yard and some chairs and some matches. And I've enjoyed "lighting up" (as my roommate and I say) and hanging out around it after dark for the past three nights. I think it's becoming a thing. Maybe 9pm at our place is chiminea time. Just maybe. LOVE it. Thanks to Sandy A. who was seriously generous to me last spring and, among other things, gave me this glorious thing. If you can't live in the woods and light a real fire, might as well pretend. Heather H., I'm expecting you to come around.

The End.

Go, go, go

Just admiring again my favorite poet so far...T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets is a great way to spend some time pondering. Check out the opening of the collection:

(From Burnt Norton, the first of the four)


I.

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.
So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.
Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.


Whew. "Human kind cannot bear very much reality." Serious. I just spent the morning wrestling with Luke 10-11, and Leviticus 16-19. The law, lawyers, Pharisees, "Woe to you," and Jesus. It makes my head hurt, and draws up tears in my eyes, to let the reality of the gospel and God's righteousness and the requirements and grace all work together in the stew of wisdom. The Word is True from surface to depth. We like to be able to grasp with our minds, but sometimes Faith requires faith. Imagine.

Could it be that, like the Matrix, we are living in a reality easier than waking up? Even the way we tuck a Bible under our arm and go about our lives - could it be that we've decided not to take in the part that knocks us off our feet onto our faces, sweating blood? Jesus was put on trial by the religious leaders, called to make defense of his perfecting fulfilling the will of God. Luke 12:11, a warning for us: "Now when they bring you to the synagogues and magistrate and authorities, do not worry about how or what your should answer, or what you should say..." It was not Jesus v. the World - it was the religious, religious establishment and leaders. He told us to not worry about what to say or how to defend ourselves when the self-proclaimed righteous came against those who would be doers of the word, rather than hearers and quoters and finger-pointers, and judges, those concerned with convincing everyone how right they are, and how wrong those who don't do like they do are. Dude, let's be like Jesus. Do what HE did, think like HE thought.

I have so many thoughts about what I read today - it's too much to lay out here. I tried to get it out in my journal, but it's pretty disheveled. But I figure it's got to rub a little to change anything. I pray I will never be unaffected by what I read in the Word. I want to be fired up. I want to get stirred up by what I read. I want to keep pursuing.

Philippians 3

Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord. For me to write the same things to you is not tedious, but for you it is safe. Beware of dogs, beware of evil workers, beware of the mutilation! For we are the circumcision, who worship God in the Spirit, rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh, though I also might have confidence in the flesh. If anyone else thinks he may have confidence in the flesh, I more so: circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of the Hebrews; concerning the law, a Pharisee; concerning zeal, persecuting the church; concerning the righteousness which is in the law, blameless. But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Therefore let us, as many as are mature, have this mind; and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal even this to you. Nevertheless, to the degree that we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us be of the same mind. Brethren, join in following my example, and note those who so walk, as you have us for a pattern. For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ: whose end is destruction, whose god is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame and —who set their mind on earthly things. For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body that it may be conformed to His glorious body, according to the working by which He is able even to subdue all things to Himself.

Bushmen and Impala

I wear a ring that I got in Zambia - silver with little black figures all the way around it...a bushman, an impala, another bushman, impala, etc. Well, I call them bushmen, but they're really just stickmen, holding staves. And the impalas sort of look like deer. I've worn it every day since I got it - and I got it the last day I was there. It's been almost four years.

Yesterday, my nieces were hanging on me, and they noticed the ring again - they've seen it as they've played with my hands before, but this time they were taking it off and making like they were going to hide it from me, to make me chase them. I found myself kind of upset about it - I knew if I told them that it was a "special ring" to me, they'd note the seriousness in my voice and stop. I guess I wasn't really upset - I was just sort of interested in the fact that I felt uncomfortable about the thought of being without it.

It's not even that attractive a ring. It's just meaningful to me, and so I wear it. But will I wear it for the rest of my life?? Will my hand still be wearing this ring when I am 83? Will I have lost it, given it away, forgotten about it, or tucked it in the back of my jewelry box for safe keeping? Will I feel like passing it on? Will I be buried with it?

The significance of this ring has something to do with the connection I feel to Africa. Zambia is a huge part of who I am inside - it wasn't just another trip for me. Obviously. But I guess there's sort of this fear in me that I will not finish what was started. Wearing the ring reminds me that I promised to be different, to change, committed to let my life make a difference, and not to forget the need and the beauty of Zambia in all of that. When I'm shelving another copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Askaban I sometimes think about the stark contrast in the tasks I'm doing daily here, now, and that summer when everything I had done before seemed suddenly paler.

I was having a talk with my manager, Jeremy, the other day. He was talking about how guys that set out to climb all the highest peaks in the world, and succeed, often come back totally changed. Their friends say that they have lost a taste for anything else, that all they can think about doing is finding the next challenge, the next goal. The rush of being up there is so overwhelming that they can't function on the ground anymore. Many of them end up dying in an attempt to do the next big thing - all the same climbs, only in the dead of winter, alone, or whatever. I don't doubt it. It's a form of addiction, on the surface, but I do think that something deeper, something fundamental is going on there.

Remember Moses? Went up on the mountain, met God, came back changed. White hair and all. Glowing. Actually had to wear a veil to dim the light of his face. Now THAT is an encounter with God. But I think what Jesus did kicked the door down for us to meet with God, as ordinary joes. Combine that with the burning heart of God full of desire to meet with us, and you can bet that he'll break through when opportunity arises. Often, it happens though nature.

We've probably all had it in some form - some insane sunset, some perfectly peaceful night camping, some white beach, some 2 minute old infant comforted by being bundled up. True beauty slaps us in the head and our innards wake up and go, "HEY! I know you - I remember you - but wait...don't go..." And it's gone, and we are left with the vague sense that something bigger than our brains just happened. Something so sweet, tipping the scales so everything else loses a little taste...something so weighty that everything else seems a little less real. And you like the way it feels, because we're built for it.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what happens to those guys. The rush everyone talks about? I think it's an encounter with God, not adrenaline. It's a moment where you suddenly feel significant and purposeful, and at the same time, small in the infinity of the universe. Basically that what my relationship with God looks like a lot of the time - a whole lot of me going, "Dude, you're HUGE," and Him going, "Yeah, and I love you."

I remember Zambia that way. Like, here's a place of dire need, and for some reason I got picked to go and witness that - to have my heart broken about it, and be scarred by it. And then I came home, and home seemed frivolous, lacking perspective, wasteful, weightless. And I didn't want to go back - I didn't want to reaclimate to that. But how could I go on, and be happy where I had been planted?? The ultimate challenge. Paul wrote about it:

"For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live on in the flesh, this will mean fruit from my labor; yet what I shall choose I cannot tell. For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better. Nevertheless to remain in the flesh is more needful for you. And being confident of this, I know that I shall remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy of faith, that your rejoicing for me may be more abundant in Jesus Christ by my coming to you again." (Philippians 1:21-26)

He knew what would be more enjoyable for him - he wanted to be with Jesus. But Jesus wants the lost to be found - and that takes laborers. People who have tasted, seen, and understand the reality of realities, and who are willing to do what is necessary and stay in a world that feels so fake and flimsy (once you've seen what's really real), for the sake of Christ's priority of Salvation. That, my friends, is the Great Commission. We bring the gospel of Truth so everyone can taste how good the Real thing is.

This stupid ring keeps me grounded. It is a flash of "SOMETHING BIG IS GOING ON" in the middle of my mundane daily tasks. And I'm gonna keep wearing it, because I need that sometimes. I need to remember that God wove me into his plan way before I knew what was up, and he's still up to something. I get to be a part of that, and right now my part is here. It's hard to stay calm about that, I'll admit, but I know it's good. It's ok. It's not over yet.