It's a bit late, and I'm a bit tired, so I'll try to be quick-ish.
I really feel like I had a little (big?) miracle in my life last Monday morning. I woke up the day after Easter and had a huge weight of anger and bitterness just lifted off me. As I've started to tell some folks, I still feel like there's a lot of pain and grief to deal with, the problems haven't necessarily gone away, but my framework for entering into it is 180 degrees turned around from where I was. And all I did was wake up. I don't know how it happened--it feels as mysterious and as external to me as that saving faith to believe upon Jesus in the first place, I suppose.
Where was I, for the last four months especially? I didn't love God. I didn't believe that he loved me. Jesus wasn't particularly precious to me, not to my heart at least. I had a mental understanding of the Gospel and tried to preach it to myself here and elsewhere, but not so much faith in it. I showed up as much as I could will myself to church and small group, but I didn't open up, didn't enjoy it, didn't ever know if I would stay to the end, couldn't worship, couldn't pray, didn't feel like reading the Bible. I still had fun here and there with friends and with music, but life wasn't working, and I was just treading water, lamely at that. I was full of anger and bitterness, hatred, self-loathing, heartache, soulache, helplessness, hopelessness, brokenness, resignation.
So coming out of it was a gift. I couldn't make it happen. I couldn't work hard enough to fix my eyes on Jesus. I couldn't make myself stop being angry and bitter. Not to say that I'm not still responsible for my actions during this time, by any stretch. But it makes me wonder just how much control I have, even in my reactions to the circumstances of my life. I honestly feel like I couldn't will myself out of it, couldn't deliver myself by praying harder, engaging with scripture more (or at all). And all those inward/outward things feel like they have limited value if the heart simply doesn't love God--isn't truly captured by His love. I was hollow, incapable of making myself love God (of course).
I'm still unpacking this latest season of life and what that all means, so I don't know. Something about God's sovereignty. And my need/helplessness. But also--should I be more unsettled than I am by my deliverance? Or more at peace than I am? At the moment, I feel kind of in the middle.
In the meantime, like I said, there are still plenty of broken things to deal with, plenty of painful, hurtful things that I'll try to take one at a time as they come up on the radar. It still hurts plenty, but it's different now. I still really like that I wrote everything that I wrote in the last four months, the last year. And I still feel a clear continuity through that whole arc of reflections and struggling to where I am now. I don't know what's coming next, but I'll try to remember this little miracle and let myself be held by my Deliverer through it all.
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So, in light of all that, tonight at church I took Communion for the first time in a long time. I would've given the offering that I've been setting aside for a while, too, except there was some unexpected busyness right before church, and so I forgot. But I'm looking forward to being able to give that.
I made it through the whole service, sang out in worship, even hung out afterward and mingled with friends--I've always been leaving immediately for the last few months so as to avoid engaging with anyone if I can help it. All of that really is such a miracle to me, God drawing me out of darkness. I honestly couldn't have imagined ever feeling ok again at my church.
Speaking of Communion, I had a thought about it a few weeks ago, as I was feeling a real need for the bread and the wine, but still felt a deep alienation from my church community and just didn't feel right about presenting myself to the altar to receive:
There's no such thing as self-serve communion, right? It has to be served to you. You receive it in public, before other brothers and sisters in the faith--it's a declaration, not something done alone after everybody else has left the building. Which is a good thing.
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Sidenote: I played cello for the morning services at Christ Community Church (in a suburb south of Nashville) this morning, and after the services, Steve Green came up to me, introduced himself, and asked for my info, mentioning that he goes on the road sometimes. Not having grown up listening to Christian music, I didn't recognize him, but I have since googled him, and my friends seem to remember him primarily as the first lead singer for White Heart back in the 80's. In any case, I gave him my info, so who knows.
19 April 2009
13 April 2009
The Purpose of This Blog
I realized last night that the reason why I have this blog at all is to give me another outlet by which to preach the Gospel to myself, more than anything, I think.
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Also, I woke up this morning about an hour earlier than usual, feeling a bit under the weather. I felt it coming on last night, and I'm trying to figure out if it's just another cold or something that might actually need a prescription. So I spent the extra time looking into my health insurance plan a bit more, just trying to remember how it works. I enjoyed the quiet at home and headed out to work a little early. Of course, now that I'm there I'm a bit sleepy...
But I had a bit of peace this morning. I wasn't expecting that, some grace washing over my anger. A little miracle? I'll try to let my heart rest in that. There's still plenty left to deal with, but a Resurrected Savior does make so many selfish things seem not quite so important.
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Also, I woke up this morning about an hour earlier than usual, feeling a bit under the weather. I felt it coming on last night, and I'm trying to figure out if it's just another cold or something that might actually need a prescription. So I spent the extra time looking into my health insurance plan a bit more, just trying to remember how it works. I enjoyed the quiet at home and headed out to work a little early. Of course, now that I'm there I'm a bit sleepy...
But I had a bit of peace this morning. I wasn't expecting that, some grace washing over my anger. A little miracle? I'll try to let my heart rest in that. There's still plenty left to deal with, but a Resurrected Savior does make so many selfish things seem not quite so important.
12 April 2009
Reasons Why I Don't Blog More
I'm not necessarily able to make the mundane stuff sound interesting, so I tend toward more weighty posts (not to say that that's inherently more interesting, but I at least find it helpful for me to process). I self-censor a fair amount of what I could write here because some people might be able to read into details and fill in the names and faces of mutually known persons.
I value discretion and privacy and generally err on the side of keeping things to myself if it might reflect negatively on a third party. I was raised with that adage that "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." A friend has remarked that I have such a built-in anti-gossip mechanism that I don't even like to gossip about myself, share about my own life. Which can be to my detriment, for sure--I tend to bottle things up more often than deal with them healthily and constructively, especially if I'm not sure of how to do that in a given situation.
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That said, I'll recap my long Easter weekend by saying that it was, by and large, really terrible. I tend to cuss a fair amount these days, but I don't like the way cuss words look in print, so I'll spare that language for now. Mostly as an aesthetic consideration than any particular sense of modesty.
Thursday night I had a conversation that I was not particularly looking forward to. One of the people that I am currently estranged from reached out to me about a month and a half ago, asking if we could talk. I said no. A few weeks later, I assented, on the condition that one of the elders at our church could be there as a witness. So we looked at our calendars and finally had that talk on Thursday. There were some fruitful things about it, but on the whole, I wish it hadn't happened. The cons outweighed the pros for me, and it definitely stirred up some old heartache.
Friday night I played cello at a Good Friday service put on by my church and a sister church in a suburb south of Nashville. I think it was a good service overall. But I felt awful, in part due to the aftermath of the previous night's talk. Driving to a friend's party afterward (yes, I know, nothing says party like Good Friday), I broke down in the car and raged at the intrusion of hell in my life this current season. Feels like Lent and Easter should be reminding me of just the opposite. Alas.
Sunday morning early I walked to a sunrise service that my church was doing at a local park. Same crappiness inside. Anger building on anger. Bitterness hardening.
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There were a few good things, too, though. I had Friday off from work, so I hung out at a friend's place where she was hosting a Good Friday potluck for some of her international students and teaching colleagues, along with an Easter egg hunt that included short readings explaining the meaning of Easter.
And I feel like I was almost ready to take Communion this Sunday evening. I don't know how I'll know when I'm ready. "Just as I am"--but with my huge load of anger and resentment, that I refuse to leave at the Cross, that I hold more tightly and dearly than Jesus? My church makes a frequent point that we're not there to play church--we're there to be the church. So I second-guess myself a lot, my heart's motivations. I try to stick it out as much as possible, at least show up at the services, compelled by this tiny thread of hope that God can work in me, draw me to life again. But I always leave carrying more pain and grief.
How am I supposed to approach the throne of grace? What are the pre-conditions? I know the right answer is "nothing," no pre-conditions--nothing can keep us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. His love is not dependent on my goodness, nor is it hindered by my sin. His perfect work on my behalf is full and complete.
But don't I need to repent? Turn away from myself and my debilitating bitterness, turn to Jesus as my only hope and salvation? Isn't that what I would be declaring by going to the Communion table to receive him, to worship him as my only true God? How can I do that in good conscience when I harbor such bitterness toward some of my brothers and sisters in the faith? I have left my offering and withdrawn myself from the table for months. How long, O Lord? Where is that faith, the faith that is itself a gift from God, something that I can't produce of my own power, faith to throw myself on his mercies and actually believe in God's love for me? For me.
Every day I feel reminders of what I perceive as injustices inflicted on me in the recent past. I see doors closed by others and by myself for ways to deal with the issues. And I choose not to pay it down myself. I choose to let the wounds fester. I choose to hate, rather than cast myself on Jesus' love and sufficiency--that he bore wounds and injustices even greater than that ones that I have born (and inflicted on others), all so that I would be healed. That he went to the lowest depths of death and back, all to rescue me from even beyond my deepest pits.
I don't even know how to turn to Jesus anymore. I am a poison to those around me. Every day I feel more and more convicted that I am too stubborn to be a Christian. And oftentimes, I earnestly wish that I had never been born--I didn't ask for it, and my resentment turns on God for creating me in the first place.
I want life, I do. Unfortunately, I want it on my terms, my rightness. Either Jesus will become even more real to me as he delivers me through all this trial. Or else I'll become a character in "The Great Divorce"--spiteful, narrow-minded, self-consumed, foolishly refusing to ever give or receive mercy.
How long, O Lord?
I value discretion and privacy and generally err on the side of keeping things to myself if it might reflect negatively on a third party. I was raised with that adage that "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." A friend has remarked that I have such a built-in anti-gossip mechanism that I don't even like to gossip about myself, share about my own life. Which can be to my detriment, for sure--I tend to bottle things up more often than deal with them healthily and constructively, especially if I'm not sure of how to do that in a given situation.
--------------------
That said, I'll recap my long Easter weekend by saying that it was, by and large, really terrible. I tend to cuss a fair amount these days, but I don't like the way cuss words look in print, so I'll spare that language for now. Mostly as an aesthetic consideration than any particular sense of modesty.
Thursday night I had a conversation that I was not particularly looking forward to. One of the people that I am currently estranged from reached out to me about a month and a half ago, asking if we could talk. I said no. A few weeks later, I assented, on the condition that one of the elders at our church could be there as a witness. So we looked at our calendars and finally had that talk on Thursday. There were some fruitful things about it, but on the whole, I wish it hadn't happened. The cons outweighed the pros for me, and it definitely stirred up some old heartache.
Friday night I played cello at a Good Friday service put on by my church and a sister church in a suburb south of Nashville. I think it was a good service overall. But I felt awful, in part due to the aftermath of the previous night's talk. Driving to a friend's party afterward (yes, I know, nothing says party like Good Friday), I broke down in the car and raged at the intrusion of hell in my life this current season. Feels like Lent and Easter should be reminding me of just the opposite. Alas.
Sunday morning early I walked to a sunrise service that my church was doing at a local park. Same crappiness inside. Anger building on anger. Bitterness hardening.
--------------------
There were a few good things, too, though. I had Friday off from work, so I hung out at a friend's place where she was hosting a Good Friday potluck for some of her international students and teaching colleagues, along with an Easter egg hunt that included short readings explaining the meaning of Easter.
And I feel like I was almost ready to take Communion this Sunday evening. I don't know how I'll know when I'm ready. "Just as I am"--but with my huge load of anger and resentment, that I refuse to leave at the Cross, that I hold more tightly and dearly than Jesus? My church makes a frequent point that we're not there to play church--we're there to be the church. So I second-guess myself a lot, my heart's motivations. I try to stick it out as much as possible, at least show up at the services, compelled by this tiny thread of hope that God can work in me, draw me to life again. But I always leave carrying more pain and grief.
How am I supposed to approach the throne of grace? What are the pre-conditions? I know the right answer is "nothing," no pre-conditions--nothing can keep us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. His love is not dependent on my goodness, nor is it hindered by my sin. His perfect work on my behalf is full and complete.
But don't I need to repent? Turn away from myself and my debilitating bitterness, turn to Jesus as my only hope and salvation? Isn't that what I would be declaring by going to the Communion table to receive him, to worship him as my only true God? How can I do that in good conscience when I harbor such bitterness toward some of my brothers and sisters in the faith? I have left my offering and withdrawn myself from the table for months. How long, O Lord? Where is that faith, the faith that is itself a gift from God, something that I can't produce of my own power, faith to throw myself on his mercies and actually believe in God's love for me? For me.
Every day I feel reminders of what I perceive as injustices inflicted on me in the recent past. I see doors closed by others and by myself for ways to deal with the issues. And I choose not to pay it down myself. I choose to let the wounds fester. I choose to hate, rather than cast myself on Jesus' love and sufficiency--that he bore wounds and injustices even greater than that ones that I have born (and inflicted on others), all so that I would be healed. That he went to the lowest depths of death and back, all to rescue me from even beyond my deepest pits.
I don't even know how to turn to Jesus anymore. I am a poison to those around me. Every day I feel more and more convicted that I am too stubborn to be a Christian. And oftentimes, I earnestly wish that I had never been born--I didn't ask for it, and my resentment turns on God for creating me in the first place.
I want life, I do. Unfortunately, I want it on my terms, my rightness. Either Jesus will become even more real to me as he delivers me through all this trial. Or else I'll become a character in "The Great Divorce"--spiteful, narrow-minded, self-consumed, foolishly refusing to ever give or receive mercy.
How long, O Lord?
28 March 2009
Why Not
It's been a month, so in the interest of remembering the original mission of this blog (narcissism + procrastinability), here are some semi-sequiturs:
I started running a little bit back in December. I don't consider myself a runner. I run on average 0-2 times per week, just on my own, usually somewhere between 2-5 miles per run (my longest so far is 6.3). I average 10-minute miles, but that's an uneven pace. I don't necessarily care to become a more skilled or self-aware runner. I just want to be in moderately better shape, what with my sedentary desk job.
I've noticed over the last couple weeks that I've gained some weight somewhere in the last few months. Not much weight, maybe 5 pounds, but it's definitely fat, and I feel it in both my appetite and my clothes. Trying not to worry about it, but I am slightly more mindful of my calorie intake and energy exertion now in the broadest swaths. Alas, my magical metabolism has evidently started to slow down. It was fun while it lasted.
I'm playing shows on back to back nights next week at The Basement. Looking forward to it, though I imagine I will be quite tired by Friday.
My housemate's major jaw surgery is also next week, so there will be some substantial changes around the house, and I'll try to be as helpful as possible. It's going to be a busy week.
Here's some free music that I think is worth checking out.
On the weightier matters, I'm kinda hanging in there. I think the word for it is that I'm in stasis with a lot of things. Not just church stuff--keeping myself from taking Communion or giving my offering--or on my own with reading scripture or hardly praying, but also not really spending any time on personal writing or much reading or that kind of stuff. Everything's just kinda on hold while I (don't) figure things out. I've kept myself semi-busy with music stuff here and there, but otherwise keep myself as sedated as possible.
There have been thaws and re-freezes, a bit of motion on a couple fronts, but I am still reluctant to let go / forgive myself / believe in God's love for me, etc., and so I'm still angrier than I would like to be. There is going to be a Conversation with a couple folks in a couple weeks, we'll see how that goes.
Anyway, I'm off to pick up a bottle of wine and visit with some friends this evening.
Except there's a tornado siren and a thunder storm off in the not-too-distance.
Um...
I started running a little bit back in December. I don't consider myself a runner. I run on average 0-2 times per week, just on my own, usually somewhere between 2-5 miles per run (my longest so far is 6.3). I average 10-minute miles, but that's an uneven pace. I don't necessarily care to become a more skilled or self-aware runner. I just want to be in moderately better shape, what with my sedentary desk job.
I've noticed over the last couple weeks that I've gained some weight somewhere in the last few months. Not much weight, maybe 5 pounds, but it's definitely fat, and I feel it in both my appetite and my clothes. Trying not to worry about it, but I am slightly more mindful of my calorie intake and energy exertion now in the broadest swaths. Alas, my magical metabolism has evidently started to slow down. It was fun while it lasted.
I'm playing shows on back to back nights next week at The Basement. Looking forward to it, though I imagine I will be quite tired by Friday.
My housemate's major jaw surgery is also next week, so there will be some substantial changes around the house, and I'll try to be as helpful as possible. It's going to be a busy week.
Here's some free music that I think is worth checking out.
On the weightier matters, I'm kinda hanging in there. I think the word for it is that I'm in stasis with a lot of things. Not just church stuff--keeping myself from taking Communion or giving my offering--or on my own with reading scripture or hardly praying, but also not really spending any time on personal writing or much reading or that kind of stuff. Everything's just kinda on hold while I (don't) figure things out. I've kept myself semi-busy with music stuff here and there, but otherwise keep myself as sedated as possible.
There have been thaws and re-freezes, a bit of motion on a couple fronts, but I am still reluctant to let go / forgive myself / believe in God's love for me, etc., and so I'm still angrier than I would like to be. There is going to be a Conversation with a couple folks in a couple weeks, we'll see how that goes.
Anyway, I'm off to pick up a bottle of wine and visit with some friends this evening.
Except there's a tornado siren and a thunder storm off in the not-too-distance.
Um...
28 February 2009
The New Performance Standard
I appreciate how my church eschews false gospels of new laws masquerading as Gospel truth: the subtle twists and pulls that ultimately leave you with "do more of this, be more of that, and God will love and bless and save you more."
The truth that the pastor preaches often is to look to Jesus all the more. But sometimes it feels like that message can become its own burden--to do that better, harder, more. Turning my eyes upon Jesus is a true thing that I need to hear and do. It's absolutely vital to my life as a believer to recalibrate my standards and my gaze off myself and the world around me, back to the source of all truth and goodness and faith, to the one who did everything that I would ever need to do. But sometimes that can be hard to do. And what I feel is missing sometimes is some loving encouragement in the way that message is spoken, at least for the particular frailties of my own heart.
I do a decent job of preaching the facts of the Gospel to myself, at least in my head. I recognize the importance of being able to do that. But I don't love myself well--I don't preach and believe God's great big beautiful, pursuing, unrelenting, unconditional love for me:
"I see you struggling. I see that it's hard for you to fall down at the cross right now, to fall upon Jesus' love, to repent and believe and be set free. We both know that's the truth you need. And I see that it's hard for you in this season of your life, and I love you anyway."
So it was a real refreshment several weeks ago when a friend down in Peru pointed me to some truth that I needed, while also simply loving me, no strings attached. Some others have been encouraging along the way in the quiet ways I need, letting me know I'm not alone.
Anyway, that's how I feel sometimes.
The truth that the pastor preaches often is to look to Jesus all the more. But sometimes it feels like that message can become its own burden--to do that better, harder, more. Turning my eyes upon Jesus is a true thing that I need to hear and do. It's absolutely vital to my life as a believer to recalibrate my standards and my gaze off myself and the world around me, back to the source of all truth and goodness and faith, to the one who did everything that I would ever need to do. But sometimes that can be hard to do. And what I feel is missing sometimes is some loving encouragement in the way that message is spoken, at least for the particular frailties of my own heart.
I do a decent job of preaching the facts of the Gospel to myself, at least in my head. I recognize the importance of being able to do that. But I don't love myself well--I don't preach and believe God's great big beautiful, pursuing, unrelenting, unconditional love for me:
"I see you struggling. I see that it's hard for you to fall down at the cross right now, to fall upon Jesus' love, to repent and believe and be set free. We both know that's the truth you need. And I see that it's hard for you in this season of your life, and I love you anyway."
So it was a real refreshment several weeks ago when a friend down in Peru pointed me to some truth that I needed, while also simply loving me, no strings attached. Some others have been encouraging along the way in the quiet ways I need, letting me know I'm not alone.
Anyway, that's how I feel sometimes.
22 February 2009
Affirmation / Negation
There's a balance, a scale.
On one side: "Life is great! Things are looking up!"
On the other side: "Life sucks! This is never going to get any better!"
And I'm pushing down on the good side.
But all the while I'm sitting on the other side.
Church is happening now and I'm at home. I never know how far into the service I'll make it before I can't take it anymore and have to leave. Today I made it to the second song. Sometimes I get as far as the offering, or even the sermon and Communion. I don't remember the last full service that I made it through--I guess it was a few weeks ago when I was on the worship team (blah). I've had rehearsals and gigs the last couple Sundays, too, so that was a welcome excuse not to make it to church at all.
I feel like God has been pouring out blessings in my life this last month or so--the tangible, easy to grasp kind of blessings. Good time spent with friends, some great music, fun movies, cool art, even a bit of unexpected French. I also have a biweekly Sunday brunch + book club with a few guys from church, which is very much a blessing.
But there are other things. Unresolved things for which I don't have any hope for resolution anytime soon. Things I don't feel like I can talk about with anybody (including my pastor), for various reasons. And so I dread Sundays:
Step 1: Go to church.
Step 2: Get overwhelmed and freak out.
Step 3: Leave early and come home.
Step 4: Have a one-sided, closed-minded, lie-believing, self-defeating screaming match with God.
Step 5: Settle down and breathe again.
"The gift is not like the trespass." Christ's work is greater than Adam's (and my) sin. But these days I have a tendency to turn the lesser gifts and blessings into curses. Much worldly sorrow.
Music is one of my lifelines, for sure, my current drug of choice. (TV, too--as I wrote on our fridge with some magnetic poetry words: "TV is my junk anesthetic")
People are reaching out to me. God is speaking comfort and conviction and truth from a variety of sources. I just don't really want it right now. Or I want it to sound a little different--on my terms. I'm still angry, and bitter, and hurt, and broken, and sad, and afraid, about those aforementioned things. Things that feel insurmountable, too big for Jesus to make right, at least anytime soon. My daily reality is more defined by my pain than by my Redeemer. I'm not letting go and getting over it. I don't really want to engage with God. I don't want to read Scripture. I don't want to pray. I am being willful, stubborn, and self-destructive, and my focus isn't on Jesus.
But I'm like a runaway child who can only run as far as the next block, and then he just sits there, wondering what to do next. Too much is true for me to abandon my faith. Too much feels hypocritical and painful for me to feel like I have a place in this community anymore.
But my self-righteousness is a false shelter. I do want things to get better, and there are moments when I feel my hard heart melting. But then certain triggers will just re-open the wounds, and I don't want to do the work of paying it down over and over and over again. Looking back on the last couple years, I couldn't have planned it to be more messy than it is. It's uncanny.
But really, the historical details aren't the most important part. The question is whether or not I believe that God loves me deeply deeply, that Jesus is everything that I need, that grace is there for the healing. I do have some hope that God's pursuing love will save me, set me free. But I think it will be a very bumpy road, and so in the meantime...?
On one side: "Life is great! Things are looking up!"
On the other side: "Life sucks! This is never going to get any better!"
And I'm pushing down on the good side.
But all the while I'm sitting on the other side.
Church is happening now and I'm at home. I never know how far into the service I'll make it before I can't take it anymore and have to leave. Today I made it to the second song. Sometimes I get as far as the offering, or even the sermon and Communion. I don't remember the last full service that I made it through--I guess it was a few weeks ago when I was on the worship team (blah). I've had rehearsals and gigs the last couple Sundays, too, so that was a welcome excuse not to make it to church at all.
I feel like God has been pouring out blessings in my life this last month or so--the tangible, easy to grasp kind of blessings. Good time spent with friends, some great music, fun movies, cool art, even a bit of unexpected French. I also have a biweekly Sunday brunch + book club with a few guys from church, which is very much a blessing.
But there are other things. Unresolved things for which I don't have any hope for resolution anytime soon. Things I don't feel like I can talk about with anybody (including my pastor), for various reasons. And so I dread Sundays:
Step 1: Go to church.
Step 2: Get overwhelmed and freak out.
Step 3: Leave early and come home.
Step 4: Have a one-sided, closed-minded, lie-believing, self-defeating screaming match with God.
Step 5: Settle down and breathe again.
"The gift is not like the trespass." Christ's work is greater than Adam's (and my) sin. But these days I have a tendency to turn the lesser gifts and blessings into curses. Much worldly sorrow.
Music is one of my lifelines, for sure, my current drug of choice. (TV, too--as I wrote on our fridge with some magnetic poetry words: "TV is my junk anesthetic")
People are reaching out to me. God is speaking comfort and conviction and truth from a variety of sources. I just don't really want it right now. Or I want it to sound a little different--on my terms. I'm still angry, and bitter, and hurt, and broken, and sad, and afraid, about those aforementioned things. Things that feel insurmountable, too big for Jesus to make right, at least anytime soon. My daily reality is more defined by my pain than by my Redeemer. I'm not letting go and getting over it. I don't really want to engage with God. I don't want to read Scripture. I don't want to pray. I am being willful, stubborn, and self-destructive, and my focus isn't on Jesus.
But I'm like a runaway child who can only run as far as the next block, and then he just sits there, wondering what to do next. Too much is true for me to abandon my faith. Too much feels hypocritical and painful for me to feel like I have a place in this community anymore.
But my self-righteousness is a false shelter. I do want things to get better, and there are moments when I feel my hard heart melting. But then certain triggers will just re-open the wounds, and I don't want to do the work of paying it down over and over and over again. Looking back on the last couple years, I couldn't have planned it to be more messy than it is. It's uncanny.
But really, the historical details aren't the most important part. The question is whether or not I believe that God loves me deeply deeply, that Jesus is everything that I need, that grace is there for the healing. I do have some hope that God's pursuing love will save me, set me free. But I think it will be a very bumpy road, and so in the meantime...?
12 February 2009
09 February 2009
30 January 2009
Worshiping Jesus Now
I know you're out there, a few of you, and I'm well aware that this space is in the wide open Internet web world, and that's ok. I use this blog partly as a pressure valve for my brain-emotions-ideas-melodrama, for when I wake up in the middle of the night and need to sketch out my thoughts in order to quiet my mind down again for sleep.
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Sunday night at church was a lot of everything that I need to hear. One of the things I appreciate about my church is that the sermons--through whatever theme or text--are consistently about Jesus, about commending him and the sufficiency of his gracious work for us, his beloved. So on Sunday our pastor gave an overview of Hebrews as a lead up to a more detailed study of the book for this next season of preaching.
Towards the end, he demonstrated from some Hebrews passages the practice of Robert Murray M'Cheyne's exhortation that for every one look we take at ourselves and our sin, we should look tenfold upon our savior. I may be __________, but in lieu of harping on that over and over to myself, I will gaze upon Jesus Christ: the heir of all things; the creator of all things by the power of his word; the redeemer who made complete purification for sins; the incarnate one who suffered and was tempted--all the more than we because he knew a perfect glory before being born a man--yet remained sinless; and so on the pastor continued, quickly unpacking each snippet's little radiances.
--------------------
I generally feel inclined to making music and writing songs that chronicle the brokenness of the world and look for redemption in the various ways that we fight the fall (the execution of that is another matter, but that's at least where my head space is at artistically). But in the course of lamenting the loss of Eden, I somehow missed the later message about persevering in suffering, boasting in weakness, and being content in hardship. While I am able to dial up my suck-it-up-and-deal quotient as needed (particularly when I'm traveling), in general I've always been a wuss about life. The existence of even small hardships can bring on a mini existential crisis. I hate that crap happens at all, and sometimes my reaction is to feel like giving up.
--------------------
I said that at the church service there was a lot of everything that I need to hear. But I still couldn't receive and believe it, couldn't quite let go just yet. I struggled with being on the worship team that night and pretty much mailed it in on every level--not sure that I'll be doing that again for a while.
This latest season of life (how long has it been? when did it start?), I feel like my capacity for joy and love has been crippled. Lying in bed that night after church, I got overwhelmed by a sense that life is meaningless, that nothing I do or anyone else does matters. It passed, but it was pretty convincing there for a good while. I suppose part of the reason for this blog is to call out those persistent demons in mundane words like that.
The idea that people's most prominent strengths can also potentially be their deepest weaknesses, depending on how those gifts are applied, or restrained, or the situation--I think that my main "blessing/curse" is my memory. I'm bad with immediate social encounters and remembering names in the short term, and some things I need to write down to not forget them, but other than that, if you and I have a difference of opinion on how some shared past experience happened--well, um, I'm probably right. Just sayin'. There is no easy answer for me for that ice-breaker question of "what's the most embarrassing moment of your life?" The entire collage of every bad or embarrassing moment is there, and out of the blue something will trigger a memory, which will domino into another, and they all still stir up shame or anger to varying degrees.
So I've been replaying various events of the last two years in Nashville, seeing how I got to where I am. Maybe I'll dig into that more in this space at some point. But not for now. I feel like I've talked it out a good amount already with various folks, and it's just the way it is.
I've had a couple good lifelines the last couple weeks, friends from outside who've known me. One who was empathetic and identified with my current struggle with hardness of heart and bitterness. Another who didn't leave me where I was, pointing me to some truth in a gentle, humble way--but still loved me right where I was, regardless.
--------------------
I am too convicted and convinced that what I know is true is true (and yes, that could be dangerous, too) to let it all go.
I know that God is real. I see dispatches from the mission field abroad that testify to his active presence. I see and hear it around me here in Nashville--that Jesus is the risen Lord, that the Kingdom is breaking in.
(Though some days I definitely see more discouragement and defeat than victory.)
I know how the song goes:
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control:
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
(Though I don't know that I always make it to the "it is well" part.)
This is me feebly preaching the Gospel to myself, pointing myself to look to Jesus and ask myself the question:
"How do I worship Jesus right now?"
I don't mean to focus on how much I love God or anything (and at the moment, that would be pretty uninspiring), but rather, "How am I responding to his love--do I worship him in every way that he is worthy? Over and above my pride and my pain, will I pay that down, forgive and love my enemies, forgive and love myself? Will I worship Jesus?"
So I think that question will be the theme of my life for at least the next five minutes.
--------------------
Sunday night at church was a lot of everything that I need to hear. One of the things I appreciate about my church is that the sermons--through whatever theme or text--are consistently about Jesus, about commending him and the sufficiency of his gracious work for us, his beloved. So on Sunday our pastor gave an overview of Hebrews as a lead up to a more detailed study of the book for this next season of preaching.
Towards the end, he demonstrated from some Hebrews passages the practice of Robert Murray M'Cheyne's exhortation that for every one look we take at ourselves and our sin, we should look tenfold upon our savior. I may be __________, but in lieu of harping on that over and over to myself, I will gaze upon Jesus Christ: the heir of all things; the creator of all things by the power of his word; the redeemer who made complete purification for sins; the incarnate one who suffered and was tempted--all the more than we because he knew a perfect glory before being born a man--yet remained sinless; and so on the pastor continued, quickly unpacking each snippet's little radiances.
--------------------
I generally feel inclined to making music and writing songs that chronicle the brokenness of the world and look for redemption in the various ways that we fight the fall (the execution of that is another matter, but that's at least where my head space is at artistically). But in the course of lamenting the loss of Eden, I somehow missed the later message about persevering in suffering, boasting in weakness, and being content in hardship. While I am able to dial up my suck-it-up-and-deal quotient as needed (particularly when I'm traveling), in general I've always been a wuss about life. The existence of even small hardships can bring on a mini existential crisis. I hate that crap happens at all, and sometimes my reaction is to feel like giving up.
--------------------
I said that at the church service there was a lot of everything that I need to hear. But I still couldn't receive and believe it, couldn't quite let go just yet. I struggled with being on the worship team that night and pretty much mailed it in on every level--not sure that I'll be doing that again for a while.
This latest season of life (how long has it been? when did it start?), I feel like my capacity for joy and love has been crippled. Lying in bed that night after church, I got overwhelmed by a sense that life is meaningless, that nothing I do or anyone else does matters. It passed, but it was pretty convincing there for a good while. I suppose part of the reason for this blog is to call out those persistent demons in mundane words like that.
The idea that people's most prominent strengths can also potentially be their deepest weaknesses, depending on how those gifts are applied, or restrained, or the situation--I think that my main "blessing/curse" is my memory. I'm bad with immediate social encounters and remembering names in the short term, and some things I need to write down to not forget them, but other than that, if you and I have a difference of opinion on how some shared past experience happened--well, um, I'm probably right. Just sayin'. There is no easy answer for me for that ice-breaker question of "what's the most embarrassing moment of your life?" The entire collage of every bad or embarrassing moment is there, and out of the blue something will trigger a memory, which will domino into another, and they all still stir up shame or anger to varying degrees.
So I've been replaying various events of the last two years in Nashville, seeing how I got to where I am. Maybe I'll dig into that more in this space at some point. But not for now. I feel like I've talked it out a good amount already with various folks, and it's just the way it is.
I've had a couple good lifelines the last couple weeks, friends from outside who've known me. One who was empathetic and identified with my current struggle with hardness of heart and bitterness. Another who didn't leave me where I was, pointing me to some truth in a gentle, humble way--but still loved me right where I was, regardless.
--------------------
I am too convicted and convinced that what I know is true is true (and yes, that could be dangerous, too) to let it all go.
I know that God is real. I see dispatches from the mission field abroad that testify to his active presence. I see and hear it around me here in Nashville--that Jesus is the risen Lord, that the Kingdom is breaking in.
(Though some days I definitely see more discouragement and defeat than victory.)
I know how the song goes:
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control:
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
(Though I don't know that I always make it to the "it is well" part.)
This is me feebly preaching the Gospel to myself, pointing myself to look to Jesus and ask myself the question:
"How do I worship Jesus right now?"
I don't mean to focus on how much I love God or anything (and at the moment, that would be pretty uninspiring), but rather, "How am I responding to his love--do I worship him in every way that he is worthy? Over and above my pride and my pain, will I pay that down, forgive and love my enemies, forgive and love myself? Will I worship Jesus?"
So I think that question will be the theme of my life for at least the next five minutes.
22 January 2009
How to Host an Inaugural Luncheon
Courtesy of the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies:
Do-it-yourself: Recipes for 10
Do-it-yourself: Recipes for 10
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