A Few Tender Words to You, as if You were Me

Hello friend, I don’t know what you might be carrying lately. I also don’t know if what you are carrying is much heavier or signicantly lighter than you are imagining. I don’t know even know if your indecision is the product of you not actually knowing or if you feel so trapped where you are that it is hard to imagine a joy filled future.

I don’t necessarily see all you are dealing with nor do I know it. I don’t know the extent of your illness, your weakness, what the cause is of you being less present or barely awake. I can’t really imagine the toll it has taken on your mind but I do know the toll things have taken on my own heart and my own mind. I also know that the times when I am overwhelmed by the feeling of an unmet expectation, that I should have known or should have been better, I know that comparison hurts and that condemnation further kills or isolates the hope inside me.

Beloved, you need that hope inside you. You cannot under any circumstance surrender hope; now the direction of our hope might change, but you cannot discard it. You must remain faithful to hope. It is the anchor.

Also, you must lean into love. I imagine you have felt like the things or the people you expected love from have let you down, maybe often and maybe seemingly beyond recovery. You might sense that the love that once came from a certain place or someone has grown cold or despondent to your needs. I am sorry for that. I don’t know why love grows cold. I don’t know why it can be so hard to conjure, why our hearts can feel love sick or that our very love is somehow sick or ill and unable to give with the generosity we desire it to give. I think we always suspect that love will be transformative and sustaining.

Perfect love does this, the kind that drives out all of our fears. That kind only comes from God. A love like that must be divine, otherworldly, beyond human comprehension. But that is the love we need friend, probably in this moment, a love that has no desire to abandon, a love that does not waiver in its intensity, a love that does not suddenly come to a halt or push you aside or forget you exist. A love that keeps you in the center of its imagination. That love requires a perfect person in order to be a perfect love.

Yet we also must have a love for the imperfect. Somehow you are trying to maintain a strength to be able to love those who have hurt you, to love even your enemy. You have engaged in a seemingly impossible endeavor. It has tired you out. It feels like you cannot force forgiveness, you cannot force holiness and it seems easier to return to the dark comforts of addiction or slow death rather than deal with the disappointment of feeling alive in love just to have it sucked out of you, just to have it go unreciprocated or for it to feel like it no longer has the power to change you, revive you, keep you.

I cannot assure you of the timing in which it all gets better or in which it all makes sense or when the stories converge to have a continuation that is filled with purpose. I think somehow it does, that in the deep mystery of God and of our own lives that we can be contented to know that we are not trapped in an unhappy accident of existence. Rather, the love by whom and for whom and through whom you were created has made you to be a source of wonder in the world. I hope today you know that you are the reward.

Assiduous and the Open Doors

I don’t know what your philosophy is on coming up with a word for the year, but I like them more than resolutions because my self-discipline is poor. For example I just had a glass bottle coke, burger and fries, 5 days into a health and fitness challenge. It was my cheat meal for the 20 seconds of High Intensity exercise I did 3 days ago. Resolutions can be manipulated, given up on, become burdensome. Words or what I historically have believed about them have meaning, are somewhat fixed except for the few that can mean multiple things. Words we learn, and typically, don’t lose them, although I can’t remember the word I picked 3 or 4 years ago. No wait, I just did as I wrote that last sentence. The word was Emprise.

I typically try to land on a word I previously did not know the definition of, which is why this year I discovered the word Assiduous while google searching “extreme patience”. Though that is not the definiton of assiduous.

Assiduous means: showing great care and perseverance, marked by careful unremitting attention or persistent application.

I’m not sure I could pick a word that describes me equally more and less. When I am focussed or desire something enough, I usually show some measure of perseverance and care. But equally as much, when I am uncertain and confused I can let things fall by the wayside.

For example I’m not sure I will finish this blog post. Not because I don’t want to write, rather because I feel internal angst as I write it. I want the uncertain pit in my stomach to go away. I want to have an answer to the question of open doors.

I ran into a minister I interviewed with for a chuch position here in Charleston last week. I withdrew my name from consideration right before Christmas, and shortly after, they decided to make a hire. I debate whether I should have stuck it out and waited for an answer, but if there is one thing I have learned from people as of late, it’s that answers change, and they change quickly. Perhaps, it is a symptom of our world and its current state. Perhaps we are overexposed. Or perhaps we just don’t want to know.

I talked to a friend this past weekend for over 2 hours over the course of 2 days about a seeming indecision he was having. I thought through our conversation we made progress regarding his decision, yet he essentially did nothing about it (one could say he did the opposite).

So much of life or arguably all of it is actually not determined by solely our decisions. However, it does not excuse our decisions. We decide if we will show great care and perseverance. We decide if we will give our unremitting attention and persistent application to something or someone. And we also decide not to, which brings me to thinking about “open doors.”

Open door Painting by Linda Karslake | Saatchi Art

You know how your supposed to knock on a bathroom door or stall just in case someone on the other side didn’t lock it. I hardly ever knock, not because I’m consciously wanting to walk in on someone pooping, but because I always lock the door. There are times when I lock the door and am about to go the bathroom, and then go back and check the nob just in case. I expect an open door until someone locks or closes it. There are also some doors I don’t open, some doors in some instances I never open. Like the door to a strip club, I would never walk through that, a vape shop, 99% likely not to open that door. Any store involving hunting. At this stage of a life, unfortunately, I still have no reason to open a door to a jewelry store.

And then there are some doors, I do knock on because I am unsure. I am not sure it will open or if am welcome or expected. Usually, those doors I am more aware of the uncertainty within myself. I fear some level of consequence if the door does not open or want to avoid some level of sadness. But those doors, the ones with the most risk of being disappointed by, usually have the most potential for joy. So I knock on them, and I hope.

And then I imagine those looking on, watching me approach some doors and the ones I walk through and the ones that are locked and wonder what they might be thinking watching all this. I wonder how often they say, that is the door you should be knocking on or walking through. Or even, that is the door to the room or space you should stay in for a while. Maybe, you should be assiduous in that space, in that place, with that person. And maybe you should rest and work and find rhythm right here in this green pasture, besides those still waters.

And maybe, if we do that, our patience will just might feel like delight.