change (and beauty)

the rain is pouring outside my window. it signals change that has been all too slow in coming. i am tired of the snow and cold. i hate wearing coats (in fact i haven't worn one since december). i hate confining my feet to the prison of shoes. and now the rain has come and it is washing away all of the dirty, icy snow that has lingered over this long winter season. and soon...very soon i will liberate my feet. i will take those first glorious barefoot steps. i really can't wait. the thought fills me with joy...really.

i feel as though the rain has been flooding my soul for some time now. the last year has been full of discovery, grace, justice, and healing. the waters have poured over my broken heart and spirit and i have been cleansed. over and over again. One year ago last weekend James broke up with me. this may seem trivial to some, but i gave my heart to that boy and he didn't want it. i know this is not an experience that is exculsive to me, but it has had a tremendous impact upon my life. it took sooo long to find healing. too long for me. i don't like emotional vulnerability.

in examining my journey, i have been blessed to have mentors and counselors who have spoken the promises of my God to me. this summer i told kevin butcher the story of my unwanted heart. he told me that i was beautiful simply because God made me and loves me. he told me that i shine with the beauty of God. he told me that women and men are designed to lead each other into relationship with God. he told me that someday there will be a man who will see this light in me and will pursue it.

these are beautiful words. they are words that i needed to hear from my brother. but these are also hard words for me to hear. i have trouble believing them. i have discovered that many women also long for these words. we spend our time lamenting the lack of manhood in males. we spend our time hating our bodies and desperately trying to get attention with the bodies we hate. sometimes we need to be told that we are beautiful. that God loves us. that we are lovable. that the light of God shines through us. we need to believe it. only then can we enter into edifying, God-breathed relationship with our brothers.

business in the front...party in the back

i know this guy with a mullet. actually, i don't know him. i have seen him. it's a very impressive mullet. i have seen his family. his sons all sport mullets as well. i sat next to his son last sunday. i might have said hi to him once. or given him one of those "i don't know you, and i acknowledge your presence, but i don't want to have a conversation with you" smiles. i don't even know his name, or the names of his children, or his wife. i only know him as the mullet man. i recently had a conversation about the mullet man. it was not a very nice conversation. maybe i should make it a point to have a conversation with the mullet man instead of judging him blindly (well, not quite blindly). maybe i should stop deciding the value of people based on their choice of haircuts. maybe i should learn his name...

it's a complicated life...

so...i am struck today by how complicated my life has become. i want so badly to please everyone in every circle, but it is entirely impossible. so, i have ended up all but abandoning my family. i have virtually missed my cousin's pregnancy. i get facebook posts and phone calls and text messages from family members complaining of my absence. sphere 1.



Kevin Butcher spoke in chapel today. he once again reminded me of my love for the city. my love for people. i looked into his eyes and i remembered the power of that crazy, sacrificial, risky love. And i told him i would be home soon, but i wonder if i can keep that promise. sphere 2.



and here i sit on my couch in my dimly lit room. i should be doing homework, but i've been doing it all day, and i am having trouble facing the mountains of scholastic stress. i have so many papers to write, and articles to read, and lessons to plan, and people to greet, and i feel trapped in it. i love this place, i love these people, but i am trapped in busyness. sphere 3.



so i am failing to fully exist and thrive in any of my three spheres, but i can't get rid of any spheres any time soon. and i don't want to. but i am tired. and add onto this my overwhelmingingly complicated web of human relationships. my hopes and fears and disappointments and frustrations. and i wonder why things can't just work out. and i want to be free to love. and i have never felt so trapped in circumstances. i am impatient for peace.

I am so grateful for all that i am given and all that i do not deserve. i do not deserve three spheres of love and support, but they have been given to me. and i don't know quite how to manage them all, but i am glad for them.

God, help me to be full of thanks instead of resentment. help me to find peace and definition in you. - Your daughter.

2009

2008 was a pretty crazy year. A whole lot has happened this year. A WHOLE lot. I experienced true heartbreak. I fell in love with a city. I completed my Existential philosophy class. I moved to Detroit for the summer. I helped to plan and run KSA. I fell in love with 50+ kids. I gained a family at Hope Community Church. I found value. I was a friend. I struggled with belief and hopelessness and selfishness. I withdrew. I stayed. I loved and hated and tried and failed and lived. I changed. More than I can remember ever changing before. It's been an angsty year, but I have also experienced the most beautiful, joyful community of love. That is where I want to stay.

So, I want 2009 to be a year of hope. I want to get rid of all darkness and bitterness and needless cynicism. I want to believe in Jesus, and I don't want to doubt anymore. I want to be faithful and joyful and radical and real.

I believe in You, Jesus. I do. Help me believe this year! This day. Please.

times

You know those times in your life when you are full of thoughts and ideas and crises and beliefs and doubts and hopes and fears and everything all at once but you don't have the strength or desire to deal with any of them?

That is where I am.

So...last wednesday I attended the Thanksgiving Conference at New Hope Baptist Church. For most people, this means nothing. You have no memory of hours of pew-sitting and fiery preaching and endless cheek-pinching. This conference is a three day event that boasts the best preachers that the independent Baptists can wrangle, an endless buffet of food, and an evangelical agenda. I can remember the childish awe I felt as I listened to the blending voices singing the approved songs of the faith. The pews were full then. It has been many years since the pews have buckled under the weight of the masses. The pews have had decades of rest now.

If you spend any significant amount of time with me you will undoubtedly be subjected to at least one of my frequent rants on the evils of legalism. I grew up in a culture of rules instead of grace. I often say that, "Jesus died for me, and I refuse to live as though he did not". This passion rises from years of observing the oppression of grace, and women, and sinners. given my angst, I was a bit worried about again visiting this church that represents my past.

I suppose a part of me expected to explode upon crossing through the doorway. I was convinced that I would not be able to handle the hypocritical, oppressive, blind conservativism that I have come to despise. Much to my surprise, I did not explode. I did not feel oppressed or angry.

I felt love. I felt sadness.

In my righteous anger I had forgotten that the system I resented was full of people who are dear to me. I love the people who are entrenched in the Baptist tradition. And more remarkably, they continue to pour out their love to me. I am horribly undeserving, but they are the embodiment of Christ to my wretched soul.

So these people, my famiy in Christ, have torn away the elitist, judgmental attitude that I never knew existed. I find myself still distrustful of the institution, but full of love for the people who embrace the institution. Perhaps I am not always inherently right.

Then I looked around the sanctuary and I counted perhaps fifty people in the crowd. Scarcely any soul under the age of fifty. And I asked myself, where are the people that used to fill every pew and even spill into folding chairs? It is a dying subculture. It certainly left me scars, but it also gave me the gift of Jesus. As I sat in one of those mostly empty pews I wrote this:

Cavernous

rows and rows
pews and pews
warping wooden cage
scratches and scrapes
hymnal's truth in
happy? harmony
melody
silence
screaming bloody muddy red
comfortable cushion
crossed legs
lying lips
empty
but full
of bald white heads
suit coats
neck tie nooses
lacy, flowery mask
A-effing-men
preach it true
young and old
and old and old
and older...
dead.

This conference, while perhaps not well attended by human standards, managed to raise $25,000 for mission work in various countries. It is not, as I may like to believe, a pointless practice of out of touch, nominal Christianity.

Failure

I fail pretty much all the time...ALL the time. And I am rarely conscious of my blatant failure. I think that is what scares me and shames me most. I am hesitant to even write these words outside of the confines of my journal...because I want everyone to think I am perfect. Yep. It's true. In spite of all my efforts to be genuine...I am lying to myself, and God, and the world. I am an expert face painter. I am really, really good at making you believe in my deception. I am crippled by my overwhelming desire to make you think that I am righteous and virtuous. I am, in reality, depraved and crooked in every way. I like to spout my noble ideas of justice and love, but I fail. I once cross-stitched a pillow (mostly my cousin cross-stitched the pillow) with the phrase "actions speak louder than words" ...and my inaction exposes my own lack of justice, my own hatred.



I promised God that I would not abandon the children I grew to love. I have abandoned them. I promised God that I would pray more often, more sincerely. When I manage to remember my God it is a half-hearted cry. I promised my Savior that I would actually read the Bible and live out it's message. It has been weeks (at least) since I have found true joy in His words, and I mostly pretend to live out the gospel. I promised to be more selfless and loving. My every act is inherently selfish and self-loving. I promised to be open minded. I have closed my mind to past thoughts and old allegiances. I promised to speak out for Detroit. I have become a self-righteous, hypocritical, inactive voice.



I have failed in every conceivable way.



And I don't even know if I want to change. I hate all of my ways, but it is easier to remain as I am. I am terrified at the prospect of seeking God and missing him. I am overwhelmed by the Bible, and social justice, and my human promises...and my failure.



I would like to end this with a nice, upbeat, tie up the lose ends sort of conclusion. But that would be insincere. I suppose I should say that all of my feelings are normal and human, and to not lose heart because God is in control. And that is certainly true. I believe that with all that I am. I would be lost without that conviction. But some days, I just don't feel like believing it. That might be blasphemous or heretical...or human.



I want to see my Jesus. I want to see him. Touch him. Watch him. Love him. I want to want him.