One of the beautiful things about life is the journey. It ebbs and flows - in and out of the mundane and the extraordinary. The monotony of the routine of work and house cleaning and paying bills is peppered with the joys of birth, and celebrations of life, and dance parties, and movie nights, and deaths of loved ones and sacred times of mourning. And growth. The new thing. I've always believed that we are never done growing, never done learning, never done laying it all down and picking up the pieces of what is good and true and loving. God is always in the new:
Isaiah 43:18 - 20
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owl, because I provide water in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen.
And I'm in a place now where joining God seems like the most amazing opportunity. I've always thought centering my life around structure and rules and proper living, and "righteousness" would lead to contentment.
But I was wrong. In a sense. I defined all those words so vastly different then they should have been defined. Centering my life meant making sure my routines were centered around specific opportunities that a specific culture benefited from. Structure meant rigidness. Rules and proper living were rooted in fear of disappointing and eternal punishment. Righteousness was just always out of reach, something I could do on the outside but never live up to internally. In fact my righteousness led to a perfect outside and a judgemental inside, even when I said it didn't. Comparing choices, a natural feeling of superiority, and a convoluted description of love.
Then one day it was like scales began to painfully be peeled off from their adherence to my eyes. And it was all gross and painful. How could I have said some of the things I've said, done some of the things I've done, believed some of the things I'd believed?
My life broke, and in that brokenness all was made right. I apologized (and still do and if I owe you an apology please say something) for the pain, removed my self from toxic relationships (excruciatingly), and decided that no one was going to live my life for me. I had to chose and the time was now.
Here's the thing - living life through the lens of unconditional love is revolutionary. So many people won't understand and you can talk until you're blue in the face but at some point you'll have to realize that understanding is a willful choice not a passive enlightenment. If we seek, we will find. If someone refuses to seek, no finding will be had.
So here's where I'm landing these days:
in rest
in love
in acceptance
in unbridled joy
in ridiculous passion
in awe of grace
I never want to go back to the place I was and for the first time, I'm so excited about how deep this well is.
I was always warned about the slippery slope - and folks, let me let you in on a secret. I know what's at the bottom of the slope.
Jesus
Freedom
Abundant life
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things. - Mary Oliver, Wild Geese
