.: the swing of identity :.

Some of us live in the continually swinging pendulum between incredible pride and deeply rooted shame. We take stock of our existence and come off on one of these two sides. We are either driven to boast of abilities that have supposedly come by our own strength, or we are compelled to hide ourselves from society and sink the enemy's accusations even further. Whichever end we find ourselves in for the moment, both of them are far from the blessed reality of grace. What we have in and of ourselves is a gift. Each of us has been blessed with various capacities, certain forms of deeper knowledge, or even superior talents that deem such when we compare ourselves to the right types of people. Rather than simply being ourselves, we carry on in our self-promotion, only to bury our heads in the sand when we are in any way exposed. We do everything within our power to keep everyone around us so little, only to later subject ourselves to the same intense disgrace that we rule others by (often for reasons that lie beyond the surface of our hearts).

What's more, little do we recognize how incapable of true love we are when we require such equality from those who are supposedly inferior to us. Who made us the judge of our family and friends? Is there anything within our nature, personality, or character that was not placed there by our Creator? We are caught up in the habit of comparison, and by its telltale signs in any given interaction, we either present ourselves as greater or lesser than our neighbor. The status and reputation that we have made for ourselves have nothing to do with our identity in Christ. What would it take to keep us from ever so subtly sizing others up in our own minds? Who am I to say that someone is more or less worthy than another of something or someone? How mistaken we are when we compel others to come up to our own contrived standard. How much more mistaken we are when we camouflage its evil intent in religious jargon and images! Many of us are caught up in the exercise of obligating every listener to live life as we see it defined. They are forced to conform to that which we are best familiar with. Our limited perspective becomes the litmus test for their supposedly inherent value, and we pride ourselves by giving it as quickly as we take it away.

Every person is only aware of the tale of his or her own life. None of us is capable of accurately comparing our own story to another. We are right where we need to be, in that we have arrived to this point by choosing and moving as we have best been persuaded to do so. Freedom comes when we determine to enter into what we are been called into, the life that lies right both before us, as well as within us. And should we have the opportunity to liberate a fellow member of creation, that role itself was a divine gift - not something by which we can promote and exalt our personal existence. Worthiness is inherent in our design. Beauty comes by the hands of our Creator, granted at the time of our very birth. Anything we become further on down the road does not bear with it the right to obligate others to follow in the same vain. Thank the Father; we have not received what we truly deserve as previous participants in the rebellion! We are now free to come away from living between the two extremes of judging and being judged. And though we may be subjected to it ourselves, no accusation truly remains upon us. The call remains to live in light of the grace that we have received, that which debilitates any pride that may well up within us.

.: what can now become :.

I want it all to change. I don't want to return to what I once was. Time had bred familiarity, and that familiarity had caused me to assume that what I have been is what I will always be. But distance has pulled back the covers, and I am finding myself aware of places in my life that I have given up control. Sure, what has gone on has been the pieces of some of my greatest days. But the shame that now tries to seep into the memories of such leave me feeling confused as to why I ever allowed for such indiscretions. I want to be free. I want to be at ease when I consider all that has taken place. I want to be filled with the kind of joy that comes from living in the light. In the places that I have thrown off all caution, I want to regain these footholds and keep moving even further. She deserves far better than this. I have given her the offer of a half-self, and have acted upon curiosities mixed with assumptions. We cannot undo the story thus far, but her return can make for far better days. There would be nothing greater than to trade all moments of anxiety for the knowledge that we are where we need to be. This certainly calls for a large portion of wisdom, but we have not because we have failed to ask and wait. There is further to go in my own story. I know that each day will present me with the spaces in which I can make that decision over and over again. Consistency has not always been my stronger suit, but by holding onto these lines in the sand within my heart, I can see progress rather than regress. This life that has been shared with mine fills me with the sensation that it calls for all that I am. I have slipped into the belief that my patterns are truest reality. But I am seeing things now in a way that I haven't in years. With the assurance that this is only the start of something far more beautiful, I want to turn my face towards the sky and run with the kind of passion that I knows lies within me. Unfortunately, I have allowed it to come out in misguided directions. Those temporary desires had felt deeper than that at the time, though none of us escape those kinds of motives that disguise themselves. Everything has surely not been a waste. But the chance to turn a corner and enter into something grander and deeper, something more centered on an eternal kingdom, cannot be silenced with any sort of commitment to indifference. We make these choices so that we might grow and learn and find intimacy beyond physical proximity. We see the best self that lies within that other. If we move towards drawing that out, we can become what we have been dreaming of for some time.

.: washed away :.

Trust is something you build through single steps over time. Yet once you betray it, the waters of the offense wash out those fortified sand walls and you must try again. There is no way around it. You must push through the guilt and shame, and face the reality of the offense at hand. With every fiber of our being, we refuse to be treated like children, though we have acted in childish ways. And their reaction will be to play the role of the betrayed person, though their hurt is genuine and deeply felt. All we can do is throw ourselves at their mercy and hope for quick healing. But though we would give anything to cover over the offense, there must be confession and reconciliation before there can be healing and joy. Though we wish they will instantly release the offense, that in itself would not be genuine forgiveness. They deserve to be hurt. They have been wounded and are in fact bleeding from the offense. But by the Father's grace, they can move with us through this. It is when they hold us at arm's length that we tend to seethe. We all want quick forgiveness, yet when the offense is against us, we nurse our wounds and hold it over the offender. There is a right to be angry, and a time to release that anger and disappointment. We desire with all of our hearts to rewrite our history, yet we are only given the blank page of each day to compose what our future history will consist of. We long to be trusted, but we must act trustworthy. None of us gets to escape the results of even our poorest choices, for each event will come to the surface somewhere down the road. Coming clean is not an option. The best we can do is damage control, determining the depth of the impact we have upon it all. Relationships are given to receiving such bumps and bruises, though we ache when they actually occur. But there is a strength that allows us to persist through the pain and confusion. One day, we will be back to where we were. But the process is one that requires we honor it, not rushing through with quick fixes and swift responses. Having chosen to satisfy our curiosity, we cannot escape the fallout that is yet to come. All we can do is delay it and hope that it falls upon one of our better days. We hope for grace. We will be blessed if they stick by us. And we mark our souls so as to never return to such senseless behavior. Feelings of disappointment, shame, and disgrace are sure to do it for you. But we must push through the cover-ups and half-truths, and reclaim the beauty that once was - that still remains beneath and behind it all. We cannot survive alone. The call goes out to hold onto love and receive forgiveness as it is extended. But this is not the end for us. We will keep moving along, though we hope we are much wiser for all of this. Otherwise our confession will have been in vain.

But I truly am sorry...

.: making sense of the makeshift :.

I have been living someone else's life for some time now. These aren't my feelings... at least they aren't the ones that I have been growing used to. This home I find myself in has new walls, with pictures and colors that feel like they may belong to me one day... but just not right now. Truth be told, I had been in the midst of being graced with such company. But these days, I am once again walking alone. Each hour seems to carry me along with the least amount of passion that one could bear to survive on. The world burns all around me as I bear with days that are stretching me to my limits. Were You expecting to do this to me all along? And where is Your Spirit in all of this? This expected variation leaves me grieving in profound, yet debilitating, ways. My soul feels speechless, wondering if anyone truly has been down this road too. Yes, you are all right! I too will get through this. But such lines of reasoning cannot seem to pass through to the very core of me. And beyond what eyes can perceive, there is an ache that lies past the story presented. We are called to bear our own loads - this one will surely not crush me! But the sting comes in the space left vacant for weeks to come. It all presents me with the reality that this one human space mimics the space divine. There is no life here without what it requires. And in the absence comes the sense wash over me that solutions to medicate and insulate abound all around me. But I doubt I really have the strength to take any one of them that serious. Nothing remains here that will allow me to coast on daily emotions, outside of the memories already set in stone. But to enter into the presence of where so many of them remain requires that I be present to both joy and grief. Claims towards the future keep popping up, with the hope that the themes of so many of those days fall by the wayside. I continue to cry petitions to the Father, asking that He guide us more fully than what we have already allowed Him to. Success is found in remaining focused, both today and in the days to follow. But great reasons lie before me to both concentrate, as well as to absorb myself with the busyness of this makeshift life.

.: discipleship of life :.

In anticipation of sharing my story with a Sunday School class this morning, I had one of the greatest feelings in the world. Being the typical worrier that I am prone to be, I glanced up to see a good friend of mine walk into the room. Just seeing him made me take a deep breath, drawing in the sense that things were gonna be okay - that I wasn't alone. How many times have we each had that sense, in reaction to seeing someone enter into a space that had left us feeling pretty isolated and distant only moments prior to their entry? I guess that I didn't realize just how much I needed that, to feel like the impending encounter necessitated the presence of someone who knew my heart.

In fact, he hasn't even been someone who has been a disciple of intellect as much as a disciple of life, as I saw it for the first time this morning. We have seen all of our variety of expressions and reactions. He knows me for a large part of who I am, though I am freshly experiencing once again the reality that we only fully know our own "stories". We have been in the process of teaching each other what it means to really live in ways far too subtle to distinguish - partly in sharing in forms of how not to, as well as offering ongoing invitations to move deeper. I have shared a number of relationships with people who have blessed me with how to think... but the discipleship of life has been shared with far fewer individuals.

It is not even really the kinds of encounters that one prepares for, though many sense that yearning once they develop eyes to see such a desire. I want to know how to think... but in all honesty, I long to know how to live. No one possesses the corner of that act, but in relationships with a select few, we are seeing it fashioned in us in spaces that we could not create in isolation. It's in the moments of inspired randomness that we take the sort of leap that promises to pay off in deeply personal ways. Our eyes are opened more fully and our breath is taken away by a silent sense of satisfaction. And the ones we think to be such are rarely ever truly those mentors and guides. We are led into it at times when we least expect it. Only when they come back into our lives do we vividly perceive them as such.

They are the ones who have taught us how to live. Their movements have mimicked our own, and that harmony confirms the divine answers we have been waiting on. Every exchange that composes your history together whispers those three words that cause life to burst within us. We share in the chase. We remind each other of our need for grace. We weep together for the dead ends that we come across, and carry each other through the confusion that tints any given day of existence. But that knowledge only exposes itself in glimpses and suggestions. Draw it in as deeply as you can, and then it begins to move on.

.: awaited :.

Today is the final session of classes for the week. A week that has paused over and over again, so as to give the sense that it won't let me through this one too quickly. Five days down and three weeks to go. Fully aware of what I once had, what lies ahead of me, what it will take to finish what was set in motion. Some of the best laid plans matched with the greatest of intentions to see them all come about. Content to be here with a heart that eagerly awaits her return. Not wanting to be a hinderance or distraction. Distracted myself in ways I cannot do anything other than simply push through. Hoping that I don't dismiss these days of summer. Knowing that the day will arrive soon enough. Looking for fellowship, for release, and for a return to home. Frustrated that I cannot ever just remain in the moment, seeking out what my heart can latch onto, though only for minutes at a time. Is anyone listening? How I wonder if anyone remains here whose relationship still bears any weight. Many frustrations have been provoked here. But I doubt that they have not simply just passed through my mind en route to what I am longing for - something that is playing itself out apart from me. Until then, I know that I will continually be hoping for that perfect moment. But I have not felt loneliness like this since years past.