Looking for words...
Once again, it's been a while since I updated. I read other people's journals and blogs regularly. I'm just not keeping up with my own. I want to. But most of the time I just don't know how to find the words.
I actually compose blog entries in my head throughout my day. How weird is that? It's like I have to translate my life into some sort of written language--even if I only write it in my head--in order to process it.
My life feels messy. Kinda like I have stuff scattered everywhere. And in reality, I do. I have stuff scattered all over the Niceville area, and more in TN, and more in Ohio, and NC and AL and Poland and even more places. Pieces of me stretched out, pieces of my heart wrapped up in other places, other people. I find myself wondering just how far the Lord can stretch me. He's the one in charge of it. And it's not just the length of stretch, but the method. I have to admit, sometimes I'm more "there" than I am "here", though. Sometimes it's hard to be separated from the pieces of my heart.
Funny how life can seem to be stalled out, nothing moving, nothing happening. You kinda find yourself nodding off a bit, having a little snooze, and the next thing you know you jerk awake and find that you're moving at mach 3. That was my summer. Full speed ahead, and it's only gotten faster. It has been miserably painful and yet incredibly valuable. I've learned so much...it's been like a crash course in walking out spiritual vision. And yet I still feel so young, so inexperienced. There's so much I don't know or understand. And I want to learn--I really do. I just hate having to learn it through screwing up royally. I'd like a slightly less hands-on class now and then, please.
Lately I've been feeling distress from hearing my brothers and sisters in Christ speak with an "Us vs Them" mentality towards their spirtual siblings. I hear fear and anger speaking, and love and grace are shoved to the background. There is an arrogance in it that disturbs me deeply, and as I hear accusations hurled, my heart shrinks back. Do they really expect the church to be made up of perfect people who would never ______? (fill in the blank however you want) Holy cow, if that's true, then why would those people ever choose to spend any time around me? I'm so imperfect. I have a sin record. I will never look good by their standards...they just don't realize that I'm one of "Them" yet. I used to dread being found out. I used to worry about it...what if they find out who and what I really am? I don't worry about it at all anymore. In fact, I find myself looking for excuses to be aligned with the Thems. I don't want to be an Us, because as far as I can tell, all every Us is either a Them in hiding or a Them waiting to happen, and it all feels fake. I hate feeling fake. I'd rather be publicly flawed than publicly fake and privately flawed. Real isn't always pretty, but at least it's real.
So here's to the Velveteen rabbits, the Charlie-in-the-boxes, the square pegs. We may be worn and flawed, but the Thems are safe with us.
I actually compose blog entries in my head throughout my day. How weird is that? It's like I have to translate my life into some sort of written language--even if I only write it in my head--in order to process it.
My life feels messy. Kinda like I have stuff scattered everywhere. And in reality, I do. I have stuff scattered all over the Niceville area, and more in TN, and more in Ohio, and NC and AL and Poland and even more places. Pieces of me stretched out, pieces of my heart wrapped up in other places, other people. I find myself wondering just how far the Lord can stretch me. He's the one in charge of it. And it's not just the length of stretch, but the method. I have to admit, sometimes I'm more "there" than I am "here", though. Sometimes it's hard to be separated from the pieces of my heart.
Funny how life can seem to be stalled out, nothing moving, nothing happening. You kinda find yourself nodding off a bit, having a little snooze, and the next thing you know you jerk awake and find that you're moving at mach 3. That was my summer. Full speed ahead, and it's only gotten faster. It has been miserably painful and yet incredibly valuable. I've learned so much...it's been like a crash course in walking out spiritual vision. And yet I still feel so young, so inexperienced. There's so much I don't know or understand. And I want to learn--I really do. I just hate having to learn it through screwing up royally. I'd like a slightly less hands-on class now and then, please.
Lately I've been feeling distress from hearing my brothers and sisters in Christ speak with an "Us vs Them" mentality towards their spirtual siblings. I hear fear and anger speaking, and love and grace are shoved to the background. There is an arrogance in it that disturbs me deeply, and as I hear accusations hurled, my heart shrinks back. Do they really expect the church to be made up of perfect people who would never ______? (fill in the blank however you want) Holy cow, if that's true, then why would those people ever choose to spend any time around me? I'm so imperfect. I have a sin record. I will never look good by their standards...they just don't realize that I'm one of "Them" yet. I used to dread being found out. I used to worry about it...what if they find out who and what I really am? I don't worry about it at all anymore. In fact, I find myself looking for excuses to be aligned with the Thems. I don't want to be an Us, because as far as I can tell, all every Us is either a Them in hiding or a Them waiting to happen, and it all feels fake. I hate feeling fake. I'd rather be publicly flawed than publicly fake and privately flawed. Real isn't always pretty, but at least it's real.
So here's to the Velveteen rabbits, the Charlie-in-the-boxes, the square pegs. We may be worn and flawed, but the Thems are safe with us.