Sometimes it is 2 o'clock in the morning in my heart when it is only 10 pm in the actual space-time continuum. It is at those moments when all the Cher songs in the world don't help and insecurities unlock their fun little cages so they can wreak havoc on my psyche and I think I'm really seeing reality. I forget that I am to find my identity in Christ and not in another person. It seems that love just can't be found, and love's supply don't meet love's demand.
The night passes in imaginary conversations, and finally I turn to Tylenol PM so that I can get a couple hours of sleep. I guess one of the great things about being in my 30's is that I have learned to function on not-so-much sleep.
This morning I grabbed my journal and accidentally turned to the Fanta bottle labels that I brought home from Romania. And I remembered all the laughter, which is a kind of love, from that trip. All the amazing moments (luggage falling on the road, the stuffed deer, the nighttime discussions and prayers, the Oakster, preaching, trying to sing Romanian hymns, stopping for ice cream) came flooding back. So today I know that there are other kinds of love, and that maybe my life isn't going to include the romantic love I think I need. Maybe I am going to have a different kind of sanctification than most of the people I know. Maybe I am called to show and experience different kinds of love.
Just don't pity me because my life doesn't look like yours. It pretty much hasn't ever, and maybe I am so unique that it won't. The best things you can do for me are: walk with me when you can, answer the phone when I call, let me play with your kids, let me hold your babies so they can slobber all over me, and pray for me. Let me be who I am, going far and fast for God, looking for more grace, looking for more of Jesus, finding the edge, being wacky and vulnerable. Pray for me whose place is not necessarily any place but where God sends me. Be the church, the community of believers that grounds me and welcomes me. Let me see your open arms.
And when I say that it's a big season in Lonelytown, that I'm part of the crowd in the crazy house, that I've been knocked out of the ring, remind me of who I am. Show me tomorrow.
Posted by mike at August 1, 2003 10:57 AM