How do I live increasingly in God's love, and not in a system, a structure, in a set of rituals, or rules, or in traditions and assumed truths?
And what about this "us and them" mentality that defines the Other, but doesn't delve into what that means or who the Other really are and why we feel that they are Other?
Like the word Liberal.
There is political liberalism and conservatism, and there is social l-ism and c-ism, all about different issues and to differing degrees, and within one person there are often extremes of both.
Yet I and others often have the idea that any two terms, two labels, cannot coexist. And attempting to verbalize feelings of the Other makes matters worse, because words are loaded. Culturally and individually.
This especially happens to me when I'm not even directly involved, but rather telling how two people or groups interacted and why one felt like the other was Other.
I don't go into detail (because it's not my story really, or because I want to allow a margin of privacy), and instead search for the lexical shortcut through the conversation, and butcher meaning with words.
If explanation is demanded I can use more words to say what I meant by "liberal atmosphere" or "Christian values". I can enumerate which "liberal" aspect was in mind, or to which "values" that are often (but not exclusively) promoted in Judeo-Christian circles I was refering.
I both love and hate words, for their beauty and use, and for their shortcomings.
But beyond that, how can I move past seeing others as the Other, taking shortcuts that increase verbal inadequacy and decrease relational possibility?
After writing this, I realized this is a prime example of Donald Miller's Lifeboat Theory: that we all act like we're in a lifeboat, and we have to prove our worth so that we don't get rejected and thrown overboard to drown.
I act like I'm in a lifeboat even though I don't want to. My value does not come from my "rank" in the hierarchy. I don't have to prove that I'm worth loving and accepting. I matter because I am one loved by God. How difficult a thing it is to try to live in the truth that the mechanism with which I've lived my whole life doesn't actually make any sense or have any value whatsoever.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Home for Christmas
...and New Year's, and the whole first month of 2009.
That's right: I moved back in with Mom and Dad on Monday. So far it's going well, I've been unpacking and reading and helped decorate the tree and I'm fighting a head cold. There are definitely adjustments to returning to Sanford after 5 years of my life being in Greensboro. Here's to adjusting.
Also, here's to "Preparation," as I've dubbed the next month and a half. External preparations, like making lists (yay!), collecting needed items, buying a ticket, tying up financial loose ends, and packing; also there are internal preparations, like spending quality time with family and friends, and enjoying the wide margin I currently live in - free of work and other weekly or daily commitments - to spend time in prayer and reading and journaling and discussing: generally, being open to God solidifying any stages of my mental, emotional, and spiritual growth that he wants to before I go. As L told me at lunch on Saturday (by the way, thanks again -- it was great!), "Growth. Do it."
Okay, after a morning of unpacking (and repacking for storage), emailing, changing addresses, and walking the dog, I'm going out to the post office and to do some Christmas shopping! Maybe I'll even hit up THE coffeeshop.
That's right: I moved back in with Mom and Dad on Monday. So far it's going well, I've been unpacking and reading and helped decorate the tree and I'm fighting a head cold. There are definitely adjustments to returning to Sanford after 5 years of my life being in Greensboro. Here's to adjusting.
Also, here's to "Preparation," as I've dubbed the next month and a half. External preparations, like making lists (yay!), collecting needed items, buying a ticket, tying up financial loose ends, and packing; also there are internal preparations, like spending quality time with family and friends, and enjoying the wide margin I currently live in - free of work and other weekly or daily commitments - to spend time in prayer and reading and journaling and discussing: generally, being open to God solidifying any stages of my mental, emotional, and spiritual growth that he wants to before I go. As L told me at lunch on Saturday (by the way, thanks again -- it was great!), "Growth. Do it."
Okay, after a morning of unpacking (and repacking for storage), emailing, changing addresses, and walking the dog, I'm going out to the post office and to do some Christmas shopping! Maybe I'll even hit up THE coffeeshop.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Searching for I Know What
Twice recently, I’ve been freaking out a little bit, and author Donald Miller walked right in, set right down, and let his thoughts hang out. That is why I love reading. Well, partly.
The first time, I was having a tough day. Actually, I didn’t realize I was having a tough day until my loving friend told me I was acting combative and asked what was up. I thought I was just being quippy, but my comments were a little too sharp and not well-executed enough to cover myself.
Often, by realizing one has a problem, recovery can begin. Not so on this Saturday. Maybe it was because I couldn’t find the root of the issue.
So instead, I went through cycles of attempted wit, shutting down and shutting up, feeling really needy, and wanting to deny my needs and claim that I AM AN ISLAND.
It’s really difficult to own needs and then live in their unfulfillment.
Of course, the need for companionship and connection with others often gets distorted, so I find myself using people and attention as a soul hit to fill me up and numb me out, instead of just enjoying friendships for the beautiful gifts that they are.
So after a full Saturday of this needy, angry, empty, skewed feeling I went to bed. The next morning I woke up, read a favorite psalm, and then picked up Searching for God Knows What, which I’m re-reading after a few years of it sitting on a shelf. This is the part where ole Don pulled up a chair and explained some things about humans to me again. He reminded me that humans are made to look outside of themselves for meaning and identity and security. That the concept of “The Fall” is where that mechanism (the good, created need) got turned upside-down. That when humanity decided to trust themselves instead of God, the perfect relationship was broken. The source of fulfillment was severed, cut off. And ever since we’ve been searching searching searching to find what we lost, what we chose to give up.
So on that Saturday, I wanted to be liked, to be funny, to be admired, to be desired, to be everything to everyone, or at least to someone. I wanted those things so that I could feel whole.
That Sunday morning I remembered that they’ll never be enough to fill me up, to put me back together. With a quick and quiet, “Jesus, I’m sorry. Thank you for loving me no matter what,” I felt the burn of wine down my throat and into my core as he reminded me that he’s always here, waiting for me to turn again to the only one who can walk right in to that void.
(Unless the Lord builds a house, the work of the builders is useless. Unless the Lord protects a city, guarding it with sentries is no good. It is useless for you to work from early morning until late at night, anxiously working for food to eat; for God gives rest to his loved ones. Psalm 127)
The first time, I was having a tough day. Actually, I didn’t realize I was having a tough day until my loving friend told me I was acting combative and asked what was up. I thought I was just being quippy, but my comments were a little too sharp and not well-executed enough to cover myself.
Often, by realizing one has a problem, recovery can begin. Not so on this Saturday. Maybe it was because I couldn’t find the root of the issue.
So instead, I went through cycles of attempted wit, shutting down and shutting up, feeling really needy, and wanting to deny my needs and claim that I AM AN ISLAND.
It’s really difficult to own needs and then live in their unfulfillment.
Of course, the need for companionship and connection with others often gets distorted, so I find myself using people and attention as a soul hit to fill me up and numb me out, instead of just enjoying friendships for the beautiful gifts that they are.
So after a full Saturday of this needy, angry, empty, skewed feeling I went to bed. The next morning I woke up, read a favorite psalm, and then picked up Searching for God Knows What, which I’m re-reading after a few years of it sitting on a shelf. This is the part where ole Don pulled up a chair and explained some things about humans to me again. He reminded me that humans are made to look outside of themselves for meaning and identity and security. That the concept of “The Fall” is where that mechanism (the good, created need) got turned upside-down. That when humanity decided to trust themselves instead of God, the perfect relationship was broken. The source of fulfillment was severed, cut off. And ever since we’ve been searching searching searching to find what we lost, what we chose to give up.
So on that Saturday, I wanted to be liked, to be funny, to be admired, to be desired, to be everything to everyone, or at least to someone. I wanted those things so that I could feel whole.
That Sunday morning I remembered that they’ll never be enough to fill me up, to put me back together. With a quick and quiet, “Jesus, I’m sorry. Thank you for loving me no matter what,” I felt the burn of wine down my throat and into my core as he reminded me that he’s always here, waiting for me to turn again to the only one who can walk right in to that void.
(Unless the Lord builds a house, the work of the builders is useless. Unless the Lord protects a city, guarding it with sentries is no good. It is useless for you to work from early morning until late at night, anxiously working for food to eat; for God gives rest to his loved ones. Psalm 127)
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