"what about us?"

Last night I sat in a new church with a bunch of strangers. But it didn't feel new to me, and the strangers felt more like friends. It always amazes me how almost every church I walk into feels like "my church," and there's an instant connection, a bond with the people there simply because we all believe in God. His love for us, and our love for Him. We're brothers and sisters in Christ, and it always surprises me how much it feels that way. Before any words are spoken or any hugs are given.

There's an easy explanation for how I ended up at this church. Their young adult pastor, James, works at Starbucks with me, and for several months he'd been trying to get me to come out and meet with this group on Friday nights called the Red Letter Community, or Red for short. I was genuinely interested, but without fail, every time Friday night rolled around, something would come up. I had to work or cover someone else's shift, I had to fundraise for Colombia...and then, last night, it happened. My schedule remained clear right up until the final hour, when I realized I'd have to go alone because the person I was carpooling with couldn't make it.

Forty minutes I'd spend driving to get to this place. Forty minutes of gas gone. Forty minutes to sit there and think to myself, Am I really doing this? I'm excited, but I'm scared. Scared to meet with God. Can you imagine? Scared that I might actually have a good time and that I might actually feel God around me and I might actually fall in love all over again.

How silly.

I guess the truth is, I wanted to fall in love again. I wanted it more than anything else, more than understanding what's actually going on under the surface of my life and figuring out what's in store for me. But with love comes discipline, and accountability...and that's where the fear came rushing in. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself at the foot of the cross and bawl my eyes out and feel God's arms around me, killing me and healing me. But I didn't want to see his disappointment in me.

It helps to have a clean slate right off the bat. As soon as I walked into this church, I felt a bit of weight lift off of me. Nobody there knew me or anything I'd been through; everyone was friendly but not at all intrusive. They accepted me right away.

There could only have been about fifteen to twenty people who showed up. Several small tables and chairs had been set up in front of the stage for this intimate gathering, and while I chose to sit behind them in a regular row, I appreciated the laid back approach. A tiny candle burned on top of each table and provided just enough light for us all to remain awake at the late hour, but still comfortable. Outside the thunder rolled and the rain pounded on the roof.

We started with worship. There are few things in life that move me like worship does, that fill me up to nearly overflowing with peace and joy and contentedness. It's so personal, even among a group of people...and as vulnerable as I might feel, I've never found anything else that leaves me feeling so safe and tranquil and whole. Nothing on earth compares to being wrapped up in the arms of God and feeling his love saturate every fiber and pore of your being. Nothing on earth can both exhaust and rejuvenate more than this.

James prayed, and then began his message. Line by line, he read the following passage and explained the importance of each piece:

"Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." - Hebrews 10: 19-25

Amazing, isn't it? I was scared to meet with God, but He was dying to meet with me. Dying to tell me that I can come to Him no matter what I've said or done, no matter what time of day or night, no matter how I'm feeling about it. Dying to tell me that he died for that very purpose, to save me from feelings that keep me from approaching His throne. Dying to tell me that I'm forgiven. Dying to tell me not to put my trust or my hope in man or the church or any religion or establishment, but in Him alone. Dying to tell me that He loves me.

Still.

And the last part there, the part about spurring one another on toward love and good deeds...meeting together, and encouraging one another. That's the part that I could tell would stick with this group of people as a whole more than anything else, because in the very next sentence James was announcing the end of Red. Apparently, Red was started as a place for twenty-somethings to go and worship and dig into the Bible together and question things and openly discuss and argue their beliefs. Over time, there were more thirty-somethings in attendance and even a few forty-somethings, which was not the original goal of the group. Since Red wasn't meeting the purpose it was designed for, it was now being cancelled altogether.

Were it not for the storm going on outside, you could have heard a pin drop for what seemed like an eternity after this information was released. And then, another storm began. I was shocked, personally feeling as though I'd been punched in the gut even as a first-timer to the group...so I understood well when some of them finally found their voices to speak and their hurt and disappointment was made clear.

"What about us?" - While these exact words weren't necessarily spoken, it was certainly the unanimous question behind their comments. And in my heart, I was right there with them.

Once again, my frustration with the politics of the church leaves me wanting to scream. Why do we have to make everything so complicated? Why can't we just let the ship sail, and let it stop where it stops?

Plans are by far the most ridiculous aspect of life. Dreams are great. Goals are nice. But plans are just stupid. Consider the following:

"The LORD foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the LORD stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations." - Psalm 33:10-11

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps." - Proverbs 16:9

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails." - Proverbs 19:21

...Is there a point being made here? And how about this:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." - Isaiah 55:8-9

We can't always know what God's up to, but we can trust that it's good. God is good, and so anything good is of God. Sometimes we set goals for ourselves that are good, and admirable, and maybe even achievable. Sometimes we don't reach those goals, but other good things happen in the process. Are we to call that a failure?

As believers, we quite often fail to see the bigger picture, and it drives me nuts. So what if the original purpose of Red hasn't been met? Regardless of age, there are people who attend faithfully because they're getting something out of it. It's meeting a need in their lives, it's making them stronger, it's encouraging them.

It's helping them fall in love with God all over again.

How do we know this wasn't God's plan all along? Why must we end something good simply because it's not serving the audience we aimed for? And given more time, perhaps that audience would find its way in, too. What's the hurry?

What about collateral?

What will you tell them?

When will we start to see the bigger picture?

God, why?

the in-between

It hit me tonight somewhere between Samoset Street and brushing my teeth that i don't think i'm very happy.

I have happy moments. Even happy days. I've struggled with depression and thoughts of suicide in the past, so i know what that's like, and this isn't that. I'm not that kind of unhappy.

It's more of a haze, a disorientation i guess.

After three years of riding an emotional roller coaster on heavy doses of confusion and naievete, my marriage completely failed. I have yet to make it to college, if in fact that's in the master plan. I serve coffee for a living. I still reside with my parents. I'm facing life decisions that at times feel so daunting i just want to pull my sheets over my head and sleep until the opportunity to make them passes. And up until recently, i've been able to accept all these facts and go about my daily business still feeling pretty okay about myself. I stubbornly refused to let it all get to me.

But i'm lost. Can i just admit that? Between long days at work that leave me smelling like coffee grinds and needing to spend several hours kneading my feet back to normalcy and long nights during which i can't sleep because my nine-year-old self has made a habit of standing by my bedside for hours and weeping, i'm floating around in the void. I get up because i have to, not because i want to. I go to work because i need money, i just don't know what for. I hold onto hope that my life will eventually have more meaning, because what else is there? If i can't trust that God has a plan for me that will someday unfold and make sense and contribute positively to the world, then what am i living for?

Right now i'm caught up in the in-between, and it's the worst place on earth to be. One of them, anyway. I know when things are bad, and i know when things are good, but that gray zone in the middle has got me throwing cupcakes in my mind's eye.

I want a Bible. A small, leather-bound Bible with no frills or added commentary. I want the pages to crinkle when i turn them, but i want the whole thing to be so durable that i could throw it at the wall if i wanted to.

I'm not sure why that seems so important to me in the middle of this rant, but i think i'd better get one quick.

My pastor had suggested i take this time for some self-discovery. There are certainly many things i've learned about who i am and who i want to be, but the rest is kind of unclear. I couldn't nail down a specific if it handed me a hammer. I want to be good, i want to be kind, i want to love and be loved, i want to serve, i want to find peace and contentment, i want to laugh, i want to play, and i want to have a home.

I don't know where home is anymore. Is it still my parents' house, even when i'm 22 and really just taking up space and using up resources? I think a good definition for home is anyplace where you're welcome. And i know i'm welcome here, but at this stage of my life...the in-between stage, that is...everything feels different. I'm no longer young enough to need them for my survival necessarily, but i'm not old enough for them to need me, either. I just kind of exist.

Is home Colombia? Am i supposed to pack up and leave the smoldering remains of my old life behind and set up a new camp somewhere so far away? Am i to wake at 4am each day and make breakfast and trudge through the streets of Cali with thirty orphaned kids on their way to school, help them with their homework and chores, serve them their meals, tuck them into bed, and hope that at some point along the way i'll find the time and a miraculous way to raise my own family as well?

Will i ever have a family?

Will i ever come to find balance between work and play and love and God? I didn't even put God first in that lineup. Which only proves my point.

I don't want to be a waste of life. I don't want to feel anxious anymore. I don't want to live on a day-to-day basis as if there's a possibility that i'll wake up one morning to find a note on my bed that reads, "Yeah, so this is kind of it. This is all there is to you, all there is to your life. I just thought you should know, in case you were waiting for things to change. Sorry."

I need a Bible.

we'll never find God

The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance, but everyone who is hasty comes only to poverty. - Proverbs 21: 5

Why can't i learn patience? I could punch holes in my wall until my fist starts to bleed, and i still wouldn't have vented all the frustration built up inside of me over this word.

I suppose i get aggravated because i often feel that most of life is a waiting game. Waiting to earn rights, waiting to be financially stable, waiting to find someone who brings out the best in you, waiting for answers to all your questions. And if life weren't so short, i think i'd have a much easier time allowing these things to pass as slowly as they do. But i'm plagued with awareness. In the back of my mind, i know i've got lots to do and see and say and learn, and only so many years to do it. And by so many, i mean not so many.

The truth is, practicing patience has been a lifelong struggle for me, and i fear that it's going to continue to be for quite some time. I want to look at a flower and tell it to bloom and have it unfurl like a waking human before my eyes. I want to sprinkle the dew from that flower all around and enable everyone everywhere to fall in love with themselves and their passions. And i want to watch that love spread like a wildfire, sparking a desire - a need - in each person to pass it on in ways that will change the world.

But i can't. I'm an idealist, and therefore doomed to disappointment. Even in my own personal life, i'm constantly setting myself up for failure by imagining my life a certain way. Dreams are dreams because the mind is fantastical, but it can't defy reality. I want it to, but it just can't happen. And i try to do things to begin creating that ideal world i live in when the real world is sleeping, and somehow still wonder why it always ends badly.

So why dream? I can do my best to live a good life, to seize the opportunities given to me, and to count all my blessings. But why look forward? Why bother entertaining the thought that perhaps things could be better? The world is not ideal. I'm not ideal. How can i expect greatness out of mediocrity?

Listen to me. I don't know where this cynicism is coming from, but it's disgusting.

Clearly, i am full of doubt. I'm doubting myself, but more importantly, i'm doubting God. I'm doubting His ability to take care of things, to fulfill His promises, to offer us what no one else can.

Love. Peace. Patience.

I want to be diligent. I want to learn how to wait and be happy in it. And i want to stop questioning God, which leads to me taking over when i don't know how to operate the control panel.

An Australian prophet who just visited our church said, "We need to stop searching for God as though He's lost." God isn't a numbskull. He's not sprawled across a chaise in a myriad of clouds somewhere digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, wondering what the heck is going on. I'd like to think a guy who fashions entire universes in the blink of an eye has got a handle on this one miniscule piece of it known as Earth.

God's spirit is in us, in all of us. It tugs at our hearts when we're little and starts knocking a little harder when we're older. We have the choice to respond to it, or to ignore it. Here I am. What will you do with me? And some people choose to pretend it's not there, to let its flame diminish over time until eventually it burns out altogether. But others will treat it like silly putty, playing with it, fighting with it, finding out all the different things it's good for and how to protect it so it doesn't get stale. You've got to play with it a lot to keep it soft and pliable. You've got to have patience.

So life is about waiting.

But it's also about silly putty.

It's about this, but it's also about that.