Flush....(gurgle, gurgle)...what else do you do with crap?

OK, so this is not really for you (the unseen audience), this is for me.

My head has felt really full today & I’m worried again (as a typical hypochondriac) that I’m losing my mind or going to suffer some mental breakdown. Maybe it’s lack of sleep, or that my body is finally starting to catch up from lack of sleep (been pushing too hard & burning the candle at both ends in Calgary & now that I’m at my folks for the long weekend, I’m catching up on some rest)… but my head has been going a million miles an hour this weekend & it actually kind of hurts. I’ve been trying to read & my eyes won’t focus well on the page as the tyranny of thoughts just keeps flooding my head….. I’ve tried painting, but that’s not cutting it. Part of it is that I’ve got a bunch of ‘projects’ on the go (about 10 G.I. Joe figures) & I sort of need to fix their eyes to be able to progress the figures & I’m trying to do it too quickly & just making a royal mess & the eyes are looking worse & worse & I’m just frustrated with that, too….

…so yeah, that’s not helping relieve the pressure behind my eyes… & I’m randomly snapping at my family. I want to be heard, but want to be left alone… I sort of have nothing to say unless it’s a whole great litany of long rambling thoughts about what I’m thinking through & I sort of feel like no one needs to or wants to take the time to hear all of my crap & so yeah, that’s why I’m turning to this, the written word, to try to put it all down & at least then it feels like I’m sort of ‘heard’, by the page at least, ultimately by the divine as He listens to me try to still my thoughts… (He’s been hearing the cacophony of my thoughts lately & the random whine of prayer asking Him to make it stop, or to fight for people, or to help make sense of things….)

So yeah, random thing to start: I long to be heard. Most of us do, most of us don’t feel heard, don’t feel like people really listen & understand… I don’t or at least not so much. I am likely heard & understood far more than I think, but this is an area of my life that I sort of guard…. I have these ways of testing the waters with people to see how much they want to listen. The more attentive they are, the more the guard comes down… but I find I don’t share so much with a lot of people ‘cause well, they’re either not interested or don’t have the time to listen – all of which is fine… but it just means that people don’t hear my stories so much unless they want to sit down & listen to the longwinded rambles… I have a pretty select group of people that I feel take the time to hear me & yeah, it’s maybe too bad for them ‘cause then I feel like I talk too much & spill out too much info….

… but I haven’t had a chance to unload in a while… & so that’s maybe part of my issues….

So what’s bothering me? A chunk of it is community house/urban monastery ([um]) stuff. The [um] is working through defining purpose, trying to come to a ‘rule of life’ that guides this new monasticism. This has also brought up a lot of other issues amongst the house asking for things like ‘greater commitment’ & ‘being intentional’. Some of it has sounded good, some of it has sounded like putting chains on ourselves; trying to give ourselves rules to work by, which just feels more death like to me… other friends talk of a ‘rhythm of life’ & it’s amazing how one word can make such a difference. Rule of life speaks to me of rigidity, structure, order - it’s been described to me as a framework to help things grow, but it feels like a set of rules that removes our thinking – we do what the ‘rule’ says & follow the directives or the ‘life-police’ will come & hunt you down for your lack of commitment to the rule. It just feels like it robs the free choice & I already scheme of how to break & bend the rules before we’ve even decided on what the ‘rule’ is… ‘Rhythm of life’ on the other hand, sounds so freeing, it’s something I can dance to… sure it involves an order, a framework, a structure, but it’s more fluid, open, able to change as we/I change & to grow with us. Mostly it speaks to me of bringing a regularity to life (e.g. it’s a Tuesday, therefore I should be here/doing this) that is set, but flexible, able to move as the wind of the spirit blows & says, throw away you’re carefully crafted plans, the Lover brings the unexpected & calls you to come leaping & skipping in the hills with Him…..

… but a lot of the [um] stuff has been conflict. Some people are not happy. Others are intensely happy, but their voices appear to be overwhelmed by the unhappy ones… though perhaps this is good & gracious as we love those who are not doing so well… it’s been 8 people living together & there is conflict & pain & hurt… Some people sound pretty hopeless about the whole thing & like living in the house has brought dearth (famine, desolation) into their lives… I think everyone there sees both good & bad & some maybe have more good or more bad, hard to say….

But I’ve been looking this as a community I care about & my problem solving side has come out trying to figure out how to fix things. I sort of tried to mediate one of the ‘doom & gloom’ meetings & it was an abject failure on my part. I made the mistake of trying to mediate to make people happy. It failed. I failed… It failed partially ‘cause I don’t think people want to be happy in some ways, but more importantly it/I failed ‘cause I completely missed the point of the problem. It’s not about the stuff being done or coming to some compromise, it’s about, well, in some ways it’s about hurt feelings which go deeper than I can solve, & more importantly, it’s about God’s calling, dreams, hopes, etc. that are part of the house.

& yeah, I’ve sort of been indirectly told (which may be just a misinterpretation, but it’s the interpretation that I’m pulling out of things) that I’m not in the house. I don’t understand, so I should just let those in the house sort of house stuff. Likely good advice, though it still makes me ache. I’ve pulled away from the house in the past for various reasons. I just haven’t been as present as I originally thought I would/should be… Again, I had my reasons. & I feel like I’ve failed people in the house & haven’t loved or been there enough. On the flip side, it’s not like there was that much calling me or trying to get me to hang out, so yeah, it’s maybe all even, or maybe my presence wasn’t as needed or missed or whatever… but yeah, now that I’ve decided to try to be more present, I feel less needed/wanted ‘cause I’m an outsider to what goes on. I feel forgotten in a lot of ways, again, which is fine in some senses… but yeah, it’s just a tad alienating…..

…& so there’s the frustrations of powerlessness. I can’t help, maybe shouldn’t try… or maybe I should, but I don’t know how. I can listen, but all that is is me absorbing the venom of all the painful feelings & thoughts ‘cause I’m an outsider who can buffer some of this – listen to the venting so people can ‘deal with’ things without actually confronting people. Maybe this makes things better, maybe it just exacerbates the problem…

But ultimately I’m sort of back to being on the fringes, for better or worse. I’m not so happy about it, especially after seeing a bunch of e-mails talking about next phases of working this stuff through, but I guess I need to learn to step back & let people figure stuff out on their own. It’s not like I’m much of a help anyhow, I can’t even figure out my own life….

…and that’s been the other struggle, maybe the deeper one… I’m back to wondering what I’m doing with me… After the night of botched mediation I wished that people would just share their passions & dreams & then I’d help facilitate putting that together into a composite picture that embraced all of the dreams. This is the crazy stuff I think, but that’s part of the mix of being pastor & artist & storyteller – it’s trying to see how stuff fits together, looking at the pieces God’s put in place & go, ah, here’s the picture God’s trying to paint…. But yeah, thinking about this made me wonder what my passions were.. & for this I sort of have no answers.

As a pastoral/shepherd type person, part of my life & joy is lived in watching others grow. Want to see me near giddy? This happens in the places & moments where the people I love somehow ‘get it’ – where they gain some new understanding about themselves or God or their place in life, where they end up doing what they love, when there’s this moment where they come alive… See somehow that stuff makes it all worthwhile for me. I’ve had people speak words over me about me being a ‘bridge’ & I get this imagery of laying my body out across this chasm & people walking across on my worn out corpse to reach the higher places that they are destined to walk in… In some ways a good picture, some ways kind of depressing… It’s like a teacher who spends long hours preparing lessons & sits there most days thinking their lives mean nothing & then bumping into a former student who, years later, somehow credits that teacher with some of their success… it’s not a fun calling, but it’s just part of it. I live to serve in some ways, I live to try to make the world better for others & this brings me, well, it brings a lot of pain for the most part ‘cause the need is so great & I’m pretty small & it’s pretty rare between all the pain you endure & help others shoulder & the moments of where you see that your labour is not in vain are pretty few & far between, but in a funny sense, those few, rare moments of where you see someone step into the light of who they really are & you see them blaze with the brilliance of their creation, & see the supernova clarity of that smile that awakens as they realize the wonder of their lives, the deep, rich pleasure that God takes in them… well, these moments kind of wash away years of drudgery & kind of make you forget all the crap you endured to see these friends reach this point…

…it’s like the birthing process (from what I hear), that seeing the little one sort of makes the pain of labour become a more distant memory (again this is just what I hear – not sure how true it is)…..

…but at the end of the process, what am I left with in my life after the above? Well, I get a bunch of people who I’ve loved & been hairy-legged cheerleader for & lots of times I’m forgotten by them & I really didn’t do much to ‘help’… I was sort of there, God used me however He does & used a whole lot of people & worked in these people’s own hearts & brought them from darkness to life & there’s really very little I can claim as ‘mine’ or as ‘my legacy’ other than that I was maybe faithful to the work once in a while & maybe didn’t screw up too much &was more or less obedient when I needed to be…. And ultimately I just join with everyone else laying crowns down & saying, “worthy is the lamb who was slain to receive all honour & power & glory & praise”. At my very best, I’m an unprofitable servant, or a son who does what he sees his Father do….

& so my passion stuff, the things that makes me come alive are either the external stuff of helping others, which seems a bit more reactive &, at present, seems to be on an ‘as needed’ basis when I get brought into someone’s life in the crisis & am there for a bit & then they move on & I’m back to waiting for the next one. This makes me maybe too serious & not a lot of fun ‘cause I’m just looking for the next crisis, the next battle to step into…

…the other passion is intimacy – something I hunger for, but seem to never quite reach (which may be normal, as I’m learning). Both with God & people I hunger to listen to understand to know. God & people fascinate me & I live to understand hearts & the confusing mixture of what makes us us & what makes God who He is…

I also like to create & this is a necessity in my life….

Trying to sum this disjointing thinking up: Again, I gain joy from a) the sense of feeling like I’ve ‘made a difference’, 2) a sense of closeness/intimacy with the divine/with people, 3) being able to be challenged and/or to explore creative outlets… Is this good or bad? Fleshly or spiritual? Love or just self-love? I don’t know… I don’t know…. Is this noble or just selfish… maybe it’s all a load of crap & it’s just me looking externally to find a sense of self worth or to feel loved… maybe all of the above…

This is where the confusion comes in… A lot of things I’d trade just to latch onto one person to spend a lot of time with. I’m tired of saying goodbyes. I am afraid that I am no good whatsoever at relationship. The closest friends I have are still not seen that much. I feel psuedo-lonely sometimes – not a full blown loneliness, but it’s close… I would like to be married, or at least dating.. this all scares me ‘cause I don’t know really what those words mean & sort of expect to be not so good at either…. I’m hoping to find someone who will be patient enough to want to walk through my mistakes with me… someone who will take the time to listen to the stories I tell & sift through the crap to (hopefully) find a good & true heart buried under there… I hope that God makes my heart good, or true, or puts something beautiful there in…. I think there is, I suspect there is, but I worry some days that the dust has covered in & it’s now a little tarnished… or maybe wasn’t ever that noble & good to begin with….

…I’d like to think I’ve learned at least a little of how to love… it’s not perfect, but it’s kind of there… & I guess, like the community house, what you see depends on whether you focus on the bad or the good …. Lately I’ve been hearing the bad ‘voices’ (not real voices, thankfully) that sort of cast doubt on who I am… I haven’t fought that hard against them lately… the true me will be shown in the end. If I’m a man of low character, well, then I guess I should learn that sooner rather than later & can try to work on it. If I’m a man of good character & have a heart full of love, well, that’ll burn the dust away eventually anyhow…..

I’ve met some new friends, two ‘wild geese’ from Ontario who have helped turn my world sideways. These two women come into life here in Calgary & bring with them passion & prayer, laughter & scandal…. Mostly they bring true hearts, full of life & full of dreams & this belief that God is leading them & God will hear their prayers & God will move in their lives & the lives of those around them… Listening to them I hear my own heart from a number of years ago… In talking with them, the cynical part says “ah, they’ll grow out of that”, a statement which pisses off, well, pretty much all the rest of me & the warrior part comes out with this cry of intercession asking that God would make sure they never lose this passion, this crazy belief in who their God is… part of me wants to find some way to stage miracles for them – all painted backdrops & smoke & mirrors – to make sure their hope never dies…. Part of this is that if their hope fades, then the cynic is proved right & I really don’t want that… I’ve learned to be gentle with the cynic in me… really the dreamer & cynic in me are one… the dreamer is just the cynic on a good day where he believes. The cynic is the dreamer on a bad day where the dreams have been yet again disappointed…..

Ultimately these women need nothing from me. Their God (my God) will make His own miracles & handle His own PR, thank you very much… He’ll guard their faith (& mine)….but yeah, listening to them awakens part of me that has gone dormant…. I’ve backed away from ministry ‘cause it was my addiction. I gained a sense of worth from helping others & thought this is what made my life ‘valuable’…. I’m slowly learning that I am valued & loved period just because I’m me… but yet I’ve still been out of ‘ministry’ – not sure what that word means anymore & being afraid of picking up the needle again…

…and so the questions have been around what do I ‘do’ with my life. Do I find a cause, pour my being into it & hope it’s the ‘right’ cause? Do I wander around hoping that God will intervene & put me in touch with the people who ‘need help’ (if that’s a valid term)? Do I sit at home with my hobbies & g.i. joes & paint & try to feel happy about growing a personal life (which feels so empty in many ways ‘cause as much as I have learned to like being around me & just doing my things, well, it’s just me & it’s kind of lonely & empty without people (or at least someone) to share that with… At it’s very best, it’s like standing at Inish Mor alone hearing the thunder of waves & the beauty of this stark, stony green Irish island & having no one to share the joy of the moment with…..

So it seems that by just doing, I’ll expend my life & find no joy. By just being, I’ll enrich my life & find great joy, but none to share it with… & yes, life is about breathing in & breathing out, taking in life & then giving it out… So both the ‘doing’ & ‘being’ must find a rhythm in my life… but I guess I’m unsettled that maybe I’m not really finding either… or not the right balance… or maybe everything’s good cept that I feel alone in it…

…and I have a sermon to put together – trying to reveal the heart of Jesus through the foil of a scandalous woman… there are moments where the message feels brilliant & does Jesus justice in painting a picture of who He is. Other moments it feels like the biggest load of crap & trite sayings & a complete waste of peoples time…. How do you put into a 20-30 minute diatribe the wonder of who Jesus is when I barely feel like I’ve encountered Him myself….

… haunted by last night’s dreams of seeing gal friends in bikinis & wanting to stare & not wanting to stare – the mixture of being attracted to someone (both in a wholesome admiring beauty sense & in the unwholesome lustful sense) & wanting to stare & feeling awkward staring ‘cause they’re friends how are more than just a pretty face… the pull of lust as a coping mechanism has been tugging at me for the last week or so. Giving in in one way or another might bring some release from the noise in my brain – or at least numb it for a few minutes… but yeah, it’s been sort of nice this past week where thoughts of well, beauty, joy, good things, just this sense of feeling alive again, has sort of overwhelmed some of the coping mechanisms & makes me think I don’t really want to just cope anymore… I want to live…..

I don’t know what that means – this idea of really living – but I’ve been reminded of what it tastes like & I just don’t want to go back…. I was telling a friend about the Grand Inquisitor story in the Brother’s Karamazov & how at the end, after the Grand Inquisitor finishes his long tirade telling Jesus how He’s messing up the deal that the clergy have going, that Jesus kisses the Inquisitor on the lips &, shocked, the Inquisitor tells Jesus to ‘get out & never come back’… & then the parable ends about how the glow of that kiss haunts the inquisitor for the rest of his days….

I sort of feel like that, like God has brought this ‘kiss’ of life (figuratively speaking – no smooching for Kirkie lately) into my life & I’m standing at this crossroads of either changing things to risk & to live or that this kiss is going to haunt me for the rest of my days…. I’m sure this isn’t my last chance to turn things around, but I’m tired of the same things happening again & again in my life…. I just don’t know what to change or what to leave the same…..

OK, enough venting for tonight… has helped some…

Quote

"To make life worth living a man or woman has to have a great love or a great cause... "

- Robert E. Howard's character in the movie "Whole Wide World"

Poetry to pass along

I really liked this one:

Taken from the book "Good Poems for Hard Times" collected by Garrison Keillor

"At the Arraignment" by Debra Spencer

The courtroom walls are bare and the prisoner wears
a plastic bracelet, like in a hospital. Jesus stands beside him.
The bailiff hands the prisoner a clipboard and he puts his
thumbprint on the sheet of white paper. The judge asks,

What is your monthly income? A hundred dollars.
How do you support yourself? As a carpenter, odd jobs.
Where are you living? My friend's garage.
What sort of vehicle do you drive? I take the bus.
How do you plead? Not guilty. The judge sets bail
and a date for the prisoner's trial, calls for the interpreter
so he may speak to the next prisoners.
In a good month I eat, the third one tells him.
In a bad month I break the law.

The judge sighs. The prisoners
are led back to jail with a clink of chains.
Jesus goes with them. More prisoners
are brought before the judge.

Jesus returns and leans against the wall near us,
gazing around the courtroom. The interpreter reads a book.
The bailiff, weighed down by his gun, stands
with arms folded, alert and watchful.
We are only spectators, careful to speak
in low voices. We are so many. If we make a sound,
the bailiff turns toward us, looking stern.

The judge sets bail and dates for other trials,
bringing his gavel down like a little axe.
Jesus turns to us. If you won't help them, he says
then do this for me. Dress in silks and jewels,
and then go naked. Be stoic, and then be prodigal.
Lead exemplary lives, then go down into prison
and be bound in chains. Which of us has never broken a law?
I died for you -- a desperate extravagance, even for me.
If you can't be merciful, at least be bold.

The judge gets up to leave.

The stern bailiff cries, All rise.