There once was a breed of people for whom God himself was their aim & end, & not merely a means to an end. Yes, there were once & are still those whose alabaster boxes are all broken. Those of whom God Himself is their all in all. Ub1
I saw a woman walking in the street. Not in the sense of; 'These damned neighborhoods don't have any sidewalks'. Nor was she attempting to fake an off-the-sidewalk-but-close-to-the-curb sense of sanity. She left off that foolishness as soon as dusk grew near. As soon as the cars whizzing by & the damage they might do ceased to frighten her. Apparently the damage had already been done. Someone or something had clearly already struck her. The impact of which threw her wounded soul off the beaten path. Like an accident victim, there she was. Walking with that dazed 'I must get help' look. Not crazed, but resolved - hers was the ultimate 'I can't do this anymore' day. Some vehicle earlier had driven that point home. Her reach for help was to quietly step off the 'normal' path & walk on the wild side. All numb & too weak to make any other kind of spectacle, she was still on sanity's fence, but tottering. And now, unknowingly she was confronting everyman. Presenting everyman on that road with an opportunity. Like a call on Judgment Day her actions began to categorize the sea of humanity that pulsated & pushed onto Shore Drive that night. Giving the 'Could not care lessers' enough avenue to pass on by. It's what they do best. Giving the 'undecideds' a chance to decide what kind of human will they be. Much in the same way that Hitler's rule made every German chose. No one could simply pretend not to see. She walked in the street - as if walking down a grocery store isle. Well dressed, stress-demeanored, but clearly in search of something. On occasion she looked back to read the signs: Nuts, loaves, fishes & Schindler: This isle. I swerved to miss her & had to go quite a ways before I could make a u-turn & return. When I finally came upon the scene from the opposite side of the road, I found her detained by those who reached out without hesitation. She was their reward. In her wrestling with sanity she had given a reward to everyone standing there with her. And even to me. We were 'this kind' of human - and her loss was our gain. Turning to engage her wounded soul hammered another nail in the coffin of the humans we might have been had we passed right on by....not giving it another thought.
Standing toe to toe with my defections & affections & demons & deadlines, writing love notes & suicide notes which convey that I am in the freedom of a continual farewell - even as I fight my way to pass & cast the thoughts which exalt themselves above the knowledge of God - even as I sit here in the hollow of the day's noise - even now I get to decide & redecide that the battles & skirmishes & stumbles & risings - even these are a part of what makes the adventure great. Instead of issuing forth prayers of burden-themed-worry as if it were a troublesome chore to be chosen to stand in the trial & in the gap & in the faith that makes God-endings possible... I stand honored & in awe. Oh these wondrous tragedies & tests & triumphs with their own timelines differing from mine - even these provoke prayers of Wow, I can hardly believe I get to be the one entrusted with believing & appropriating & growing & persevering & ultimately overcoming for myself & for others. My life is better than Lord of the Rings, & this morning I lean into the grace to rip off the whine & woe is me which daily seeks to adhire like burs, & instead rise into the storyline of this 24 hours - being fully what I am where I am... so that even what I am not yet stands proudly mocking all that would seek to prevent me from carryout out His life's work today.
I am not alone. There are those that have my back. And I have theirs. And in my greatest skirmishes, though I alone must enter the ring, my tribe lines the rink, shouting instructions, encouragement, cheering me on. In the end, it is not the blows of the fight I will most remember. But the victory, & my tribe who stood with me through it.
Living & dying daily to know God intimately - And in radical obedience & kamikazi servanthood, to carry out His life's work. ________
Having all these words be more than just words as I soul-press, excuses-crucify, life-surrender & present my body to embody the message of my friend Jesus.