Together Again ... Newly

Dear God,

I make a bad show of following you, I really do. Because my life feels like a rollercoaster, and not the smooth kind with sexy inversions and air brakes that hiss pleasingly as the kids' screaming fades to laughter and smiles.

My roller coaster is the Chiropractor's Special, that 4:59 minute ride that jars every bone in your body at least ten times. My roller coaster is wooden, a bit mysterious and only ridden often by the kids who are too lazy to wait in lines.

I feel this way, I really do, like my attempts to follow you take me down the iron track of a vicious wooden monster. And so, to cope with the roller coaster, I turn to God. And back to God. And back to God again.

But what about the Gospel I know and believe? What about that? What does the Gospel have to do with the roller coaster? Well, not much, because the Gospel is about sin and salvation of the entire human race, not one person's struggle for significance and inner peace in his or her day-to-day life.

And I've struggled, for some time, with thoughts of selfishness when I know I ought to be selfless. I ought to give all I am for this Gospel, but instead I am inside my head. I'm perfectly content with who I am, I suppose. I'm a good and moral person; I lack in some ways. But there's this Gospel there, that calls me to follow Christ and spread the good news in ways that are unbelievable. Dead shall be raised. Blind shall see. Faith like a child shall rule the day.

I feel like a pile of crap because my brothers and sisters around the world are just fighting for bread, for freedom and for their lost countrymen. I so want to join in the fight, but I feel to rich, spoiled and selfish to even know where to start.

I suppose I shouldn't start with me or what I bring. For if I bring $1 million or $1, I bring me, all of me. That's all I can bring. I bring my love, my respect, my kindness, my ability to persevere, my sense of duty and significance, my wisdom, my hope, my peace, my joy. I bring all these things, by the grace of God.

I bring myself, just as I am. And that is always enough.

This time around, I bring myself, but it's not about me. I choose to go forward.

But I can't. Because I've been riding this coaster for a couple weeks now, and all I know is I want to get off. I don't know how. God will have to take me off. God will have to help me. I could keep writing, or I could start praying. The choice is entirely mine.

I choose the latter.

Love,
Andrew, your human/perfectionist son

p.s. Maybe this prayer/letter is too personal for a blog, but nobody reads this anyway!

Evil days

Positively, wherever you go, there you will be
But if you are asked to leave that place,
Don't hesitate.
Don't wait.
Run.
Fly.
GO!

Deity

a poem by John F. Deane

Unholy we sang this morning, and prayed
as if we were not broken, crooked
the Christ-figure hung, splayed
on bloodied beams above us;
devious God, dweller in shadows,
mercy on us;
immortal, cross-shattered Christ--
your gentling grace down upon us.