lift me up and take me out of here (part 2)

most people who know about our trip to chicago also know that our plans have changed slightly- at least where i am concerned. as i explained, or at least attempted, in my last post about chicago is why we are going. i communicated some of my hesitations and unrest about going for a year. i had been trying to shake the feeling by talking to others about it and by chalking it up to fear. however, after talking to others, i grew more discouraged. finally, i talked with holly and casey, my two beautiful friends with whom i am making the journey. here's the change- i will be returning at the end of august instead of next may. i have a strong desire for a home, for stability, for a community. and that is why i will be returning early.

when i return, my hope is that i will be able to move into east atlanta and live as a small community with people whom i love dearly. there is a community of people there who love each other and love their neighbors, but most of all, desire to please the Lord. if i am unable to move in there, i will seek to be content with living where i can, with whom i can, doing what i can.

there are the huge details of where i will live and where i will work, as well as when i can enter graduate school. perhaps i should be more worried about these details, but for the time being, i simply am not. ok, i am sort of.

that's all for now. i will post our chicago letter later. i ask kindly, yet pleadingly, for your prayers. now and as we set out on our trip. thank you.

all things new

i have been renewed and encouraged, as well as challenged. the body has functioned as the body.

amen.

weak

today and last night are probably the lowest i've felt in a very long time. please don't offer me your pity, just listen to what i have to say. i'm writing this because i know i'm not the only one.

there are these creeping emotions and insecurities that circle me and poke at me tauntingly as if i am a defenseless child. they circle and scream and laugh viciously as i stand with my head hung. they get in my head and dance around, and when i try to shake them, the resistance just makes me weary, and by then, they have won. i know i am not the only one they taunt.

there is the life-sucking, ever-present sense of "you're not good enough for...". you're not pretty enough. you're not fun enough. you're not serious enough. you're don't love the Lord enough. you're not talented enough. you're not smart enough. you're just not enough.

satan attacks where i am weak and when i am weak. and i am weak. i'm mentally vulnerable, spiritually vulnerable, and especially emotionally vulnerable. Jesus Christ, may we find our hope and our worth in you, always. may we not settle for the lie that we are not enough, because we are created in your image, the most Worthy, and we have been redeemed by you, the most High. may our sadness humble us and push us to crawl to You. in our sadness may we still joyously praise.

writing this renders me vulnerable, but so be it, because that is what i am. we all need to be more vulnerable.

lift me up and take me out of here

i have been trying for about two weeks to put together a paragraph (!) about exactly why i am going to chicago. it's been tough; it's hard for me to articulate exactly why i'm going. i've been doing a lot (a lot a lot) of talking about it, especially in the last three months or so. when i first began speaking about it, i felt ridiculous trying to explain something that i couldn't even grasp in my mind. well, now i have a clearer idea of why we're going, and yet, still the words escape me.

perhaps first i should explain what this journey is for; what we hope to do, experience, and see. two friends (holly and casey) and i are traveling to chicago beginning in june. we are going on this trip to learn about and experience christian community development. christian community development combines components of community (shaped by the gospel of Jesus Christ), simplicity, and social justice. we will be staying and serving with already-established christian communities (see shane claiborne's irresistable revolution for more details), churches, and families. we say we're moving to chicago, but actually, we hope to be able to travel to other communities across the nation. we hope to glean much knowledge and heart from such developments such as lawndale and reba place in chicago, christ the servant king in oregon, and the simple way in pennsylvania, just to name a few. we are all interested in experiencing how each community interacts with the members of its community, its neighbors, and the living God.

the end-goal (besides the richness of such experience) is to bring back our knowledge and experience to georgia. holly and casey will most likely return to newnan, and implement their experiences and knowledge with village hope, an organization based in newnan that works to "generate hope by empowering individuals and creating interdependent communities." i most likely will not return to newnan. i love atlanta, i love being in atlanta. i know my desires may change and direction can be redirected, but as far as right now, i'd like to return to atlanta, be closely and intimately involved with the community at Trinity, and live as a community with whom i am able.

so sure, that sounds great. then why am i so scared? this trip is going to require a degree of simplicity and raw trust that is honestly extemely tough for me. i am scared of what i am leaving here, scared of what i'll see, scared of being broken. i will see things that will beg me to surrender and repent, and i am terrified. i will see things that will expose my vanity and selfishness. i will see things that will require me to change, and if not, i am running from grace and restoration. i will be face to face with God- in his glory, in his magnificence. i will both long to curl up in his hand and at the same time, desire to run as far and as fast as i can- back to 'normalcy' and ignorance. i am scared of how the stripping away of security and comfort will reveal how flawed i am. i desire that, but at the same time, i am utterly terrified of it. i pray that the trip breaks me, shapes me, and restores me.

let's be fair here- there are lots of reasons i want to stay. most of the reasons are in the faces of the people that i care about deeply. some of the other reasons aren't quite so clear or palpable. i know that i desire stability, and i know this trip will provide very little of literal stability. i desire to be in a place where i know people intimately and they know me intimately. i desire to serve whole-heartedly in a local church. i desire to know my neighbors. i desire to be in a flourishing and beautiful relationship with someone (yes, i said it). all that will come and will have it's place, Lord willing.

yet, despite all i say about my fear and hesitance, i know that i need to go. despite all uncertainty and all of my doubts, i will go.

i will go.

i am pretty sure that i have communicated very little of what i really set out to communicate here. that's ok. these words, for now, must be sufficient for me. i'd love to dialogue about this more with anyone. and yes, thank you for your patience in reading this. your prayers and spoken wisdom are beautiful and would be greatly appreciated.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sun, shine a light
Someone take me, teach me how to fly
And onto something for which I would die
But I just don't know what
And know I can taste the fear
Lift me up and take me out of here
You make it all concise and clear
You know I'm gonna fade

as springtime lifts its sleepy head

first night to sleep with my windows open
first night to sleep in shorts
first day to wear sandals

springtime, i relish you,
but do not hasten away too soon.

p.s. thoughts about chicago to come. i think?

war

emory is holding a remembrance vigil right now since today marks the 4 year anniversary of the war. they are reading the names of iraqi and u.s. people that have died during these four years. this does not include the names of people who have been lost, displaced, injured, tortured, or emotionally scarred. one of the most jarring images was a field of black flags displayed on the lawn near the center of campus. each flag represented 150 deaths, and the lawn was covered. it was shocking. here are some numbers.

50,000-65,000 iraqis killed so far
3,180 american people killed so far
25,000 americans wounded so far
$400 billion spent so far
2 million iraqi refugees outside iraq
1.7 million iraqis internally displaced



what do we do?

i fought and fought, but i should have just gone outside

i've been trying very hard to formulate into words all the scattered, yet substantial (to me, at least) ideas and conflicts that both my mind and heart are tossing around. i'm trying so hard, they just won't come. so i am just going to write. who knows what may come.



i'm starting with this picture. here's why. it's me. it's me doing what i enjoy. me with no pretense or sense of my need to be beautiful or to fit in, or to be successful or mature. it's me. as a child. nature has a way of breaking me of my false sense of coolness or success. outside, i am a mere fragment of creation that is far more beautiful than i could ever imagine a human to be. i am as a small child, full of wonder and appropriately humbled. may i never forsake what my heart delights in to do what the world acknowledges as productive or successful. this idea, it's implications are huge, but i have only begun to understand.

but i do know this. i am sitting on my back porch, with the breeze and the warm sun. my favorite song by clem snide drifts outside and delights my ears. i hear birds, and i hear cars. there are two large bees in the corner of the porch buzzing feverishly. here i am free to write, free to commune, free to think. this is what i love. my job allows me such conveniences, and for that i am thankful. i know it won't always be this way.

but wait, that's exactly what i'm talking about. i desire to work and serve people with whatever i choose as my "career," but never ever do i want to lose sight of our timelessness. i will not have my life be about waking up, going to work, coming home to a family (ah, perhaps), and going to bed, just to do it all again the next day. in no way is anything in the previous statement intrinsically bad, but Lord have mercy on me if my life ever becomes centered around a particular job, a particular goal, a particular person. as my kindred says, nothing is urgent except Christ. what i'm saying is that if i get to a point where i have lost sight of the Kingdom first, loving God and loving people, and have replaced such things with shadows and concrete, i have failed.

i'd like to write more, but i feel as if what i've written is all i need to say for now. i will write more when i can, when i'm not trying to force it.

p.s. go to a park or something. seriously. do it.

bear with me

i have many thoughts these days that i'd like to share, but they seem to evade clarity when i attempt to form them into words, written or audible. i will update soon, with my own thoughts, my own words.

perhaps i am just writing this to make a covenant with myself. it is very possible i am the only one who reads this. (if you do read this, this is not a plea for recognition or for pity, really.)

p.s. these kind of days bring me to life. beautiful.

come incarnate Christ!

i pray that his very real flesh would clothe you
molding around your skin
may he be your new wineskin
may he be the glow on your face
blushing with with weakness
made perfect in his strong beholding hands

liberal saturation of his spirit
inundation of mind body and soul
water damage
come Dear; ravage

he is so very near
and our hands so savage

drowning your insides
in intoxicating adoration
longsuffering
the promises held out
far
before our birth
of an invisible reality
unveiled to us
the adulterated
blinded by
our assurance of his faithfulness

[a written prayer of a beloved friend: jm]




so we say, "Christ be incarnate in us." not for our own vanishing glory, but so that we, as the body of Christ, would actually be so. the tangible, fleshy embodiment of Christ. let us be.

lenten prayer

O Lord and Master of my life! Take from me the spirit of sloth, faint-heartedness, lust of power, and idle talk. But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience, and love to Thy servant. Yea, O Lord and King! Grant me to see my own errors and not to judge my brother; For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen.

St. Ephrem the Syrian.

[more later, i promise.]