Hug the way you love

Sometimes loving people is the only gift you'll ever give them.

Monday, October 01, 2007

waving from such great heights...
the weather combined with my urban class today to place a nice dusty layer of gloom over my life.

at the beginning of the semester i kept thinking to myself that he was telling us all this depressing stuff about the city without giving us any way to help- i realize now he told us all along. he told us that if we wanted to help out in the inner city that we would have to cut our wrists and bleed for these people everyday....i had thought he was being extreme, i was wrong.
i mean think about it- the only reason i thought he wasn't giving us a method was because i didn't want the truth- i wanted an easy formula to help. take one cup of effort combine it with 2 tablespoons of warm blankets and 3 saturday afternoons and in no time you'll have yourself the perfect place.
i just look at the world and think there's so much! and i guess it's really made worse simply because in class i had this conflicting mindset that made me hate myself. half of me is sitting there picturing my home, downtown redding and thinking of all i can do there- thinking of the campers i've had that grew up in that context that i'm still in touch with adn could make a difference with. that half of me is beeming with the thought of potential, imagining all the good that could come to the people in my city- all the good that's already being done. and then there's the other half of me- the part i loathe. the part that is sitting there thinking, boy it sounds like a lot of work to make a difference, hmm seems like it would be kind of dangerous to go into the ghetto, man i'm not sure that would be good to raise a family around. with that half of my brain i'm envisioning the suburbs, i'm thinking of my cookie cutter husband going off to his clean, safe job each morning, kissing me on the porch in my bathrobe as i hand him his to-go coffee mug with one hand and hold a small child in the other. it's that half that longs for security and predictability and the problems that i know how to solve. it's the half of my mind that the devil takes hold of and says- see, forget about those other people, they deserve to be crack heads, look at what you could have, look at your dreams, they're slipping away you'd better forget all this city stuff and go chase after them. it's that part of me that remembers elementary school in my white, middle class, country hometown telling me i could be anything i wanted but only listing occupations like vet, doctor, businessman, talking about success by listing standford, ucla, a husband with a 6-figure income and kids that grow up in the church and repeat the cycle.
sometimes i hate my white, middle class, suburban upbringing. i hate the fact that my parents did the best they could to keep my sister and i in a good school district, to make sure we lived in a good neighborhood, where it was safe and the crime rate was non-existant. i grew up in a context that causes me to still believe the best about the world, to truly question whether or not homeless people deserve to be there or not, i hate the fact that i can't let myself believe that kids around home actually are exposed to a life like we talk about in urban. and at the same time i find myself hating what i know now, despising the fact that i am aware of those less fortunate that i know they actually exist, in large quantity, in close proximity. the fact that i know it's up to me and those like me- the informed- to do something about it.
somedays i feel like the world is so big and i'm so small and it's crushing me with all the unknowns in my future. it's like each time i think i have my life figured out God throws me another curve ball- He shows me another part of my future that i didn't see coming, that i couldn't have guessed ahead of time. i can't imagining how depressing it must have been for Paul, John, etc. knowing that you and a handful of others are the only ones in the entire world that can spread the news about Jesus because you are the only ones who know. i can't imagine how daunting that task must have seemed to know that you had an obligation to tell the world about something they didn't want to believe. i mean talk about being designated to make a difference- i don't think i like this feeling much, and i even have the thought in the back of my mind that there will be others trying to help as well, i know that if i don't help there will still be some that do- they didn't have that, they had to, if they didn't there would be no new testement haha there would be no christians, i mean talk about pressure.
but it always seems easier for people in history, or people other than yourselves. i always see what other people have done adn i'm like, well yeah sure, but it was the only option for them or it was easier becaues of this or that. i have a terrible knack for finding the ultimate excuse and using it.
i really don't like myself in this moment...i don't like the memory of saying that i wanted to be a christian adn to have Jesus as part of my life but not to make it my life- it's like saying i'll go anywhere, but nto Africa, it just sets you up for going to africa, that's the classic missionary story- and i didn't even see it coming. the whole full time ministry business that everyone prays about as if they'll get an answer from God saying, no don't worry, i dont' need you to do my work, you go ahead and live half-heartedly, thanks for asking.
how could i have known that the moments in my life would add up this way. this semester has been really tough i guess, just seeing myself walk past those asking for change without even looking their direction and then remembering myself saying that i just wanted to have God as a side dish to my life, and thinking that i had everything planned out and i knew it all and just, i don't know, it's like all of this should make me feel really broken, but it took so long to process that i didn't have time to break, and even now its' like i feel like i dont' want to be broken, because that requires time, requires effort, to call on God's help so desperately- i just want to go on with my life, i just want everything to be good, i just want everything to keep going, because i don't like to have to dwell on myself, i hate that, i hate brokenness for that reason- i want to work out other people's problems, i dont' want to have to deal with my own, i don't think i deserve that time spent wallowing in my own selfishness. i don't like people asking me how i'm doing and not wanting to answer becuase i can't say "good" i dont' like it when people look at you and you're not smiling and they feel like the world is colapsing and they ahve to fix it- sometimes i don't want to smile, sometimes the world isn't going my way sure but that doesn't mean that its' some terrible thing, sometimes it's ok to be cynical and depressed at times, happiness does not equal joy. i still have my inner joy and peace, i still have an eternal perspective and know that ultimately i'm on the winning team but that doesn't mean that everyday is sunshine...sometimes you have to entertain bad moods because they're constructive...i'm sorry if it comes at a bad time, that others are finally doing well and now i decided i didn't want to have a good day but well that's life?
changedfish- tired of typing

1 Comments:

  • At 10:22 PM , Blogger coveredindust said...

    Mel, I'm pretty sure you're not the only one that feels like it must have been easier for those in history to do the things they did. Sure, that doesn't excuse us for not doing what we should be doing. "He who knows the good he ought to do and does not do it, sins."
    I know you want to break. And I really wish you would. I know someone will be there to help clean up and sort out the pieces. I don't even care if you let me help you or not. I wanted to be there for you, and I still am willing, but whatever is best for you. Praying for you Mel.

    Lance

     

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