Thursday, November 29, 2012

His Love is Even Here

I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. The last few weeks of the semester tend to do that to me.

Sickness messed with my sleep and work schedules, which messed with my concentration and homework time, which messed with my free time and has me confused as to which day of the week it is today. Friends needing a shoulder to cry on; other friends not wanting to talk at all; other friends flip-flopping between wanting to be friends and ignoring the threads of friendship between us.

This has all left me tired and definitely in the midst of a real-life Twilight Zone. What can break me out of this mind-trick?

  • Twelve hours of sleep made me feel better physically, but not really mentally. 
  • A random act of kindness filled the gap like drugs: a high I could ride that left me in a crash.
  • Waiting for a summer job interview, a placement for student teaching, a reply on my resubmitted nonfiction piece... I'm always waiting.
  • Running lines with two precious girls for our church Christmas play lifted my spirits but reminded me of the work to be done for the play.
  • Letting go of a crush the same day I see friends comforted by their boyfriends is disheartening. Very disheartening.
  • Canceling our Thursday small group provided rest for my co-leader and me, but now it doesn't feel like Thursday anymore, and I can't shake the feeling I'm failing at ministry again.
  • Breakfast at 10:30am. Enough said.
  • My roommate and housemate pulled an all-nighter last night and woke me up just before 7 this morning. Lovely.

Speaking of which, I wrote my roommate a raw and painfully honest letter this morning about various things in our friendship. I was so busy writing it that I was almost late to my class this morning. When I looked down at the pages I had written, my heart was broken at how angry I sounded. The passive-aggressive letter is long and full of questions and exclamations I would have to flinch to even say aloud to her. Who do I think I am, expressing those hurtful comments to someone who matters so much to me? But, what if those comments need to be spoken because of how much she matters to me?

At this point I don't know.

Religion seems meaningless right now.

Ecclesiastes ends with the Teacher telling us to fear God and obey Him, for we will be judged. He goes through twelve chapters shooting down everything in the entire universe as meaningless, and then he comes back to God. Obey Him. Those are his final words.

And even at this point, obedience seems meaningless. Unless I disconnect it from religion.

Obedience because of religion is heartless and pointless. Muslims bow in prayer five times a day. Jewish people light eight candles (with a ninth candle in the middle) for Hanukkah each year. Why? These seem to be empty traditions based on obedience to religions that seem empty themselves.

If we think of Christianity in those terms of empty religion, it is meaningless. However, if we think of obedience as an out-flowing of the love we have for our Savior and friend, it becomes a relationship.

Did you know that his love is even here? Even here in the Twilight Zone with a headache, waiting for so many things, trying to get well, sipping tea that's gone cold, wondering how I feel so alone when I'm so surrounded... His love is here. Even here.

  • When I can only get out his name in a broken voice before the guilt of my sin overcomes me, He's here.
  • When I can't concentrate on a single homework assignment, not to mention a chapter of my favorite book in His Word, He's here.
  • When I feel like I'm failing as a small group co-leader, like my past has come back to haunt me, He's here.
  • When I wrongly think that hearing his words and feeling his hug would make things right, He's here.
  • When I hurt with desperation over the confusion in my friendships, He's here.
  • When I have trouble even lasting a shift at work, He's here.
  • When no food satisfies and most of it leaves me feeling nauseous, He's here.
  • When my singleness adds to my already disillusioned outlook, He's here.
  • And even when I don't want Him, He's here. Like a patient gentleman, He's waiting on me to ask Him to come in and be at home with me with nothing but jasmine tea between us.

His love is over, it's underneath, it's inside, it's in between. 
Oh, How He Loves.
Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. For the Bible tells me so.
He is the God who is here.


What I'm Listening To:
"Times" - Tenth Avenue North
"Sometimes" - David Crowder Band

1 comment:

  1. Our purpose does seem purposeless at times. The God who is here has given us a gift: happiness. However, I truly do understand how sometimes it feels like we'll never be healed or saved, and we ache to the point of no words.

    Grace, peace, and rest be with you. I never do stop praying for you.

    (Ecclesiastes 3:11-13)

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