under siege

Do you ever have thoughts attack you, waylay you, nearly asphyxiate you with their constant proximity and weight? James 2. That's the one that finds me.


When I travel downtown.


Or to the grocery store.


On the way to school.


In city parks.


If I happen to catch a glimpse of the news.


When I see old photos, tell certain stories, or hold memories above the chasm of forgetfulness.


Words I innocently memorized in middle school to appease a teacher who never could have imagined how I would be tormented for what is turning into the rest of my life come back in torrents to flood a mind that is struggling to be made up.


What good is faith that has no deeds?
And again: If you say "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?


How is one supposed to function with words with weight like that pounding, throbbing... burning inside?


It does not matter how I choose to cope with whatever rhythm that pounding creates because the bottom line remains: I am not doing enough. My well-intended words exit my mouth only for those same phrases that always find me to take up residency in the space left over. What good is it...when you do nothing? 


It does not matter that I do not know what to do because those are hollow excuses and I have been burning with the weight of this challenge long enough now. Long enough to feel the urgency and long enough to be friends with despair as she echoes you aren't big enough and there is no way for you to be big enough.


I feel with sudden but thorough certainty the edges of the rabbit hole I stand above. There is a whole world down there; and, if I let myself fall, I may never come back. I will never be who I am right now and my eyes will never be able to see the world the way they do right now. And it is not a fear of being too small and too weak to handle the change (I am both of those for sure), but the knowledge that the way is shut once I enter. 


Did Alice ever really leave Wonderland entirely behind? Or did she take it with her everyday just behind her eyes like a filter or perhaps a buffer that used to exist between her and the world until everything changed?


It is knowing that I have absolutely no control who this will make me if I keep following my white rabbit. But the change is sure to be real, permanent, and terrifying. Oh yes, and I think good. But it is not the only rabbit hole I could choose to fall down. How do I know *THIS* is the one I want? Do I even get that choice? If I don't like it, can I choose another? All of that to say: how much do I give myself to homeless ministry? 


I already know the answers to all of those questions. Respectively: because it's bigger than me. Yes, but no: I already chose a long time ago. Yes and no again: it wont leave me the same even if I leave it. As much as I am allowed for as long as the season stays.


Somehow, these do not bring the comfort that we always expect of answers we do not yet have.

new things

A few days ago, I sent this shirt in the mail to my dearest Lauren. Lauren needs it because she wanted fabric for a quilt to remember some of her good friends by...and our song is the 80's hit "Heart Breaker" performed by Pat Benatar. I have been meaning to use this for some kind of art, because... I don't need it anymore.

Originally, this shirt made me laugh. It was a gift from a friend because she knew that I wanted it. And, while I still think the shirt is funny and have days where I want to wear it around... my life philosophy does not have room for it anymore.

There are two parts to any kind of love that lasts whether it is romantic, friends, or family. It would seem that as a habit, men and women like to excel at only one of them; but it does not work that way. It is easier to always give or always take. It is safer too, but it is not real love and it is not humanity as it should be.

I think it can be more difficult in a lot of ways to let yourself be loved than to give love away, though both options are equally empty without their counterpart. It opens you up to scrutiny and keeps you open for disappointment. It means you have the ability to hurt someone else with whatever they find inside of you; and you have to trust that they are not going to just leave after that, especially if they have the right. It is complicated and messy and ... uncomfortable.

But I am learning. And that has been my journey for awhile now. Learning first that emotions are not inefficient. I will feel everything. Learning how to let myself fail. I will do it again. Learning to forgive people who will not stop hurting me. It will be worth it. They are worth it. And my own freedom is worth it. Learning to trust God. He really does know what He is doing. Learning to trust myself. Learning to accept that people love me. But more than that, that I need people to love me. And when I do not deserve it, I need it that much more.

I get that God loves me. That is who He is. And I cannot do anything about that.

It bewilders me to pieces and makes me feel small and unworthy, but so full gratitude and joy too.

I do not yet understand the mystery of God giving us varying forms of community to love us. All these imperfect, selfish people trying... and He is going to make something beautiful of it? It seems like the hardest way to do this. It feels like total, unrestrained chaos erupting past centuries, through millennia, straight into eternity.

...that is, it feels that way to me. But what have I made? Nothing, nothing at all. And if God can hold that chaos in hand, He is so much bigger than I have yet to discover, again. Or will discover next time. I am not surprised. I am getting used to this feeling. I even have learned to feel safe in it. It is just that, I am gaping at mysteries so much larger than myself, and I cannot help but stare.