DJ: #49 Moving On, In Hope

It was the disconnect I wanted and needed ever since May 31st. Last night, I finally let her go. I finally released what was, and settled into the truth of my existence. I trust Jesus. This trust, a hope, empowers me to believe the best is ahead, not behind. 

I feel a bit like Abraham, laying my promise on the altar to be sacrificed. Thankfully, I know about Abraham, and Esther, and Job, and Jesus, and Paul. The promises of God are better than what we can imagine. He provides a way when we let Him work. 

Overall, I’m relieved to create a space for pure friendship with her. No expectations. No personal hopes. Something new for both of us. And if something were to develop, I wouldn’t shoot it down. But I am not going back to what we had. It was special and sweet, and incredibly flawed. Neither of us lived from our hearts. I ignored myself and got sick. But…also, some really powerful seeds sprouted too. So who knows what could happen? 

She remains, and probably will always be, one of the best people I’ll ever know. I have nothing but gratitude for her. Even now. She carries the room to a higher place, has little tolerance for cynicism, and desperately longs to walk in the love and grace of the Holy Spirit. She does all that without being condescending or weird. (And yes, she is flawed. A gift I gave myself when I first met her was I never idealized her. But her greatness will always outweigh her weaknesses.) I could go on and on about what I like about this woman, obviously. Her awesomeness was not dependent on my opinion(or anyone’s opinion, or her opinion), it’s inherent in who she is. 

As of today and onward, my faith roots are growing deeper in the Lord. She set a new standard for what I expect from a girlfriend in my life, and my expectations are higher for the future, from who ever I date and from myself. It feels good to know I’m not going backwards. I’m not laying something down to settle for less. God is so good. 

A: He Remained

Every blow I absorbed, each crash to the ground, and all the hoards...did not take me down. I thought they would. But looking for reasons why, I agonized over each calamity and judged myself (a creation of the King) to be unworthy. Why else would life punch, push, and fight me? Try to murder me? 

Answer, life did not value me. This world and all of its cruel routines did not want me. My heart slunk back into a deep musty hole. We settled for a half life. In fear we longed to be loved, to be needed. In fear we stayed in its depression. I was worthless.

Yet always and without relent, He remained. Dark day and endless night, He kept watch. Through stinging rain and ripping wind, He stood unmoved. Through depression and suicide, addiction and late night porn binges, He waited. Through self-sabotaging pride and aimless dreaming, He lingered still. Through profane curses, annoying grumbles, cynical rants, and disbelief, He patiently sat outside my prison for me.

Despite my attempts to block Him out, to believe I was not worth His effort- nothing I did, nothing I said, no thought I beheld- sent Him away. And in the waiting He proved Himself true. What the world thinks, whatever it believes about me, however it decides to treat me, I AM WORTHY OF THE KING.   

God’s Not Deep

Almost twenty years ago I heard a pastor say,“God’s not deep.” He declared it to a room full of young wannabe super Christians, most of us straining to find a secret formula, a key to unlock the demonstrative power of God in our lives. My eager brain, ever in need of complication, immediately asked,”What do does that mean?” After two decades of trying, I now know what he meant. 

Our Father is simple. His desires for us are simple. We engineer the complications, build roads around mountains of pain, and hold onto our wounds. We try to think our way into His presence, and act holy. We make prayer to be something treacherous, like walking a tight rope during a hurricane, rather than enjoying it for the serene stroll it is. 

Last night I laid on a patch of grass and let myself relax into the earth. I tried to connect with the Lord. I admitted how guilty I felt, how part of me felt like my motivations weren’t pure as snow (in my relationship with Jesus.) I feel too consumed with me. I should be more holy and pious. What am I giving to you Lord? (Comparison is a sonofabitch. Read how the Lord deals with it.)

After my mini self-pity party, He responded:

“The scripture says to seek Me first. It doesn’t say “have all the best intentions and motivations at all times.” Of course, you expect My fruits and gifts in your life. It’s ok. 

You’re here, and I love it. 

My motivations aren’t completely selfless. I’m here for selfish reasons too. You have something only you can give Me. No one can give me what you give Me. I show up hoping to receive from you as well as give to you.” 

In my mind, I saw a big smile, and the folksy one-liner echoed in my head, God’s not deep. I started to laugh and cry at the same time, as a new dimension in my walk with Him appeared. Does the Lord really want to know all of my thoughts and feelings? Apparently, yes. I can tell him about my favorite foods, or share political opinions. I can share with Him my love of the arts. Even now, as I type, it feels plain to see and believe. But I didn’t. 

Prior to yesterday God wasn’t my friend, not like a friend friend. He was the all powerful God of Creation and Master of Righteousness. Yes, He loves me without end. He even pursues me, but not all of me. Not “the small stuff.” How important is it anyway? 

This morning I decided to push this new revelation. Lord, I really enjoy my oil pastel drawings this week. Me too. *Big smiles.* Of course you do. 

What may appear to an uncomplicated conversation I assure you was not. I didn’t need  to tell the Lord that. I wasn’t compelled by joy or shame, anger or sadness. I simply shared my life with Him, and He approved. 

The presence of God in our lives will naturally shower us with His love and peace and everything good. But, He also expects to receive what we alone can give Him. It’s more than our praise and worship. He wants to experience us, our actual lives as they are. 

We are more than sinners to be cleaned. We are creation to be enjoyed.

That’s Not What I Meant

August 17th was an anniversary of sorts. It marked my last trip to the Emergency Room for an unidentified stomach illness. I didn’t think about it until that morning. Nearly on cue, my good friend Jess (who was with me in the ER), texted me her recollection of the day. 

Her texts mirrored my own thoughts and feelings. It was horrible, yes. But, the Lord won the moment. His goodness endures. My next thought was,”People might want to know this story and see God’s goodness.” After a few edits to some screenshots of Jess’ texts, I proudly posted the story to Instagram. 

The response…was not what I expected, or wanted. Most people seemed to offer pity, and some even seemed annoyed,”You never told me this.” By the end of the day I decided to take the post down. (Only to put it back up.) Whatever I thought it might accomplish did not happen. My attempt to encourage people in the Lord failed.

I was discouraged. Why did people focus on the gory details and not the triumph of love and grace? Why are their heads down? I started judging people for looking at the wrong details of my story, but the Lord reeled me in. 

1) I have no idea what any of these people, my friends, are going through, or what their reactions indicate about their emotional, mental, spiritual status.

2) Who am I to judge? EVEN IF some of them can’t see the God’s glory, don’t they need good stories more than ever? Who am I?

3) It’s the next step in the maturation, man. You will always and forever be misunderstood. That’s life. Not a deal breaker, or anything to be offended by. It’s not about you…remember?

Yes, I remember. Post and let go. 

The next day, I got the following text from one of my best friends, “Wanted to say thank for your post yesterday. Up for a quick call?” 

Within an hour we were voice to voice, yucking it up about our upcoming camping trip, then his tone became somber. He gave me the latest update on his brother’s battle with blood cancer. He is battling for his life, new drugs, chemotherapy, the whole bit. Cancer f-cking sucks. 

On the same day I posted about my triumph over my strange stomach illness, the brother posted about his current fight with cancer. He posted about facing his mortality and his views on life. My good friend was discouraged by it. My friend felt boxed in and unable to relate to his brother. 

Then his wife told him to read my post. As he read it, he became encouraged, that he could sit in his truth and let it be. He didn’t have to hide himself from his brother. I put my phone on mute and cried while he talked. I felt the most gentile rebuke of my life. 

If I am going to love and encourage anyone, let it be those closest to me. Let it be my family and friends. What foolishness by me, to judge myself by the reactions of a few, to judge them at all. If everyone else completely missed the point (they didn’t, I’m projecting), but this friend got it, I’m happy. 

And that’s the way it’s gonna be most of the time. People, friends and family, are going to miss what I mean to say. (Part of it is on me as I am still learning to communicate.) I’ll never know the full impact of my life has on others. And it would be folly to chase that validation. 

God is good, and people need to hear it everyday. He is good to me in the ER, and when I’m allowing my ego to be a judge.  

Post and let go. 

He Is The Answer

A friend sent me a copy of the CS Lewis book Till We Have Faces, which I read over the last week or so. It is a retelling of the Greek myth of Psyche and Cupid from the perspective of Orual, one of Psyche’s older sisters. In the original tale, Queen Orual is jealous and evil, but Lewis set up his telling from the perspective of the Queen. She is the narrator, and the story is- in a very Greek manner- her defense.

As I read, I began to see parts of myself in the Queen, which Lewis intended for the reader. I indentified with her lack of self-worth and desire to well by people, to hide her ugliness and inner complications even from those closest to her. As the story unfurls we see the unresolved questions and unhealed wounds direct the Queen, even in her best intentions. 

In vain, she accuses the gods of playing humanity for fools, of staying hidden, and speaking in riddles. In this attempt she is brought before a celestial court, before the dead and holy, to make her case. It is only then does she understand the existence of the Divine Nature and its true spirit. The pettiness of people, our held fears, and mortal gods are a distraction to the greater.

In my view the story climaxes on the last page when the Queen confesses her most true revelation: 

“I know now, Lord, why you utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die away. What other answer would suffice?”

As I read those words, my heart burst and I sobbed into my hands. I lack the vocabulary- if it exists- to describe what I experienced. It was a folding of joy, smallness, connection, pursued, and holy protection in to one sacred moment. I felt loved, by the great Love.

This morning, I blubbered my way up and down the trail on my walk. Thankfully only a few of the usual regulars where out, so I cared less about the bumbling sloppiness of my prayer. If You are the answer, then I am the question. Is it that simple Lord? Is what you want from me so easy? Am I, in my simplest form, enough for you? Yes. I love you, all of you, and all of them. My desire never changed. From the time of Adam, my desire is to walk with you, and love you, and commune with you. You are forever worthy in my eyes. 

The pure and simple heart of our Father remains as it always was, in love with his kids. Not hidden, but true. Not angry or pissed off, but forever hoping, guiding, and kind. It is I who put road blocks and hurdles between us. It was I who tried to conform to a human standard of respectability. 

It was I who separated myself from Him, held my fears and hurts. And yet, He did not turn away. His love for me is real and alive. It is what my heart most wants, to commune with and be know my God our Father. The irony is, I’ve know this since my youngest age, but I could not bare to live it for fear. 

(I wasn’t able to believe I was worthy of something so grand and wonderful, but I wanted to believe it. It’s why the title of the top of this blog is Walking in the Garden, a reference to my favorite hymn: 

I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet
The birds hush their singing,
And the melody that He give to me
Within my heart is to ringing.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

I stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me is falling.
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.)

This is the Jesus I wanted from the beginning, something beyond reason or grand expectation, or accomplishment. What I did not know then, the truth now washing over my intellect and emotional heart, is how much I mean to Him.  

I feel like I am dying and being reborn. And now, instead of a bitter and shame filled identity, I see myself in Paul’s poetic admission to the Galatians:

“I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn’t work. 

So I quit being a “law man” so that I could be God’s man. Christ’s life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. 

My ego is no longer central. 

It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine,” but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that.”

I feel like this post is a bit rambling and disjointed. Practically all of my posts are rough drafts, but I still glance over them so they are somewhat readable. I’m going to leave it unedited. It shows the illogical nature of what’s happening in my life. And though I may want to be become a better writer, I will not edit out the goodness God is pouring out in on me.