How afraid I am of being loved.
How I would rather be admired for my talent or wit than known simply as who I am, a human being made and redeemed by the Creator.
That I stake my worth on things I did not earn, on the gifts instead of the Giver.
That I’d rather be comfortable than free.
That I am not brave, I am not just, I am not wise, I am intemperate.
That I have a small faith in our great hope, and subsequently have a small love.
And that I believe in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, and that I did not deserve it, and that He did it because He loves me and all His people, and that He has put away all my sins.
1. It’s National Suicide Awareness Week. I posted a bunch of stuff on Facebook and Twitter about it, but seriously, love people. Make sure they’re okay. You could be saving their lives. And seriously, if you’re thinking about ending your own life, tell someone, no matter how embarrassing or scary or ridiculous it might feel. (If you know my history at all, you know this is kind of a big deal for me.)
2. So I parked my car at work Thursday at about 5 minutes before noon; I walked out at three p.m. and MY CAR WAS NOT THERE. It’s gone. And this sucks. But people have been super-kind to me (not least of all my boss, who gave me the rest of the day off as personal time), and God is good, so the biggest worry I have is that I currently do not have a car.
3. A friend and I had a conversation in which she remarked on how un-freaked-out I am about my car getting stolen. Don’t get me wrong; I hate that it’s gone, and that it’s gone because someone decided taking my property was a good idea. But it’s something fixable. I can get another car. It’s something I can do something about, in other words. The things I freak out about tend to be my own relationships and emotions, and even then they’re usually hypothetical instead of real. More than anything else, I am scared of myself, and proceed accordingly. I am trying to have more courage when it comes to this.
4. Lately I’ve been thinking about the Christian life as an act of theater–the idea that we are to inhabit the role of priests and children of God, a role that’s not natural to us, but that we are called upon to play anyway. But the more we do it, the more it sinks into us, like an actor slips into the story of the show they’re in. And one day, we’ll all inhabit our parts fully.
I haven’t even left
and I’m already homesick
for a place I fear will
let go of me in its memory
once I’m out of its eyeline
traveling for somewhere I
Oh, keep me in your heart
while you paint this town
with all the colors of glory
or you send your postcards
from your own far corner
While we all keep our ears
turned toward the same side of the sky
for the noise to resolve into music