The Past Few Weeks

First, a summary of discouragement.
Second, a log of tears.
Third, a song.
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I decided to try to post more regularly and immediately hit a block.  I've noticed that I often attempt to do things myself instead of waiting on the Lord (praying, listening, waiting), and when I do I tend to grow frustrated with Him for not leading me.  There is more to it than that, but that's a big piece of the past few weeks.  It makes me reluctant to press in to things He has given me vision for.  I don't know if my spirit recognizes that I have distanced myself from him and so it intentionally shuts down, or if in the distance I find myself embittered and frustrated and so in pride don't want to attempt anything that would require Him.  Regardless, I have been frustrated during the past few weeks, leaning towards bitter in the past few days, and I don't think God is to blame, though I attempt to blame him.  This is why my writing has petered off these past few weeks.

I have continued to write, at times, though little worthy of publication.  The psalmist says that to speak in bitterness towards the Lord to the congregation can be a 'betrayal of the generation', an act of which I am steering clear.

I am frustrated when I feel God has not fulfilled His promises to be near, to speak, to reveal His presence.  Like a child who didn't get his desert, I stomp my foot, slam the door, kick the wall.  But, continuing the metaphor, should I step back, I'll see that I've tracked dirt inside, haven't cleaned my room, and continually misuse things the Lord has given me.  And I know my behavior does not correlate to outcomes- He is not a vending machine.  Still, my impetuousness is pretty disgusting.

I am still frustrated, and I'm not sure exactly why.  But, in response, I am doing a handful of things that I have learned to do.
1-Serve others. It distracts me from my introspection and pushes me towards reliance on God.
2-Be intentionally obedient with the little things.  I will not put off writing a blog.  I will not put off writing a letter, fixing a chair, doing my taxes.
3-Remembering what He has done.  Spending time with those who remind me of His glory, looking over my pile of flashcards (real, not metaphorical) of moments when God has revealed Himself.  See Psalm 103.
4-Continue in rhythms of faith.  These I hope to write about in more detail later, but they include things like reading Scripture, worshipping alone and in groups, gathering with believers, taking all my plans to the Lord in prayer, taking intentional Sabbath time, etc.
5-Pay attention to what the Lord may be saying.  Which brings me to my next snippet of the past few weeks.
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I was once encouraged to take note of those things which bring me to tears.  These are big moments, I was told, and often God is speaking through them.  These are the moments that have brought me to tears in the past month or so:

First, a Frontline documentary called "The Interrupters", a gang violence prevention group of ex convicts who are seeking to end gang related violence without challenging the status quo of gang existence and illicit trade.  They intervene when violence is likely, and use their credibility as ex gang members to speak into the lives of agitated youth.  One of the interrupters had been in jail for murder, and when released he vowed to change.  Every year, on the anniversary of the shooting, he scheduled every minute of the day towards violence prevention in an attempt to make amends.  In one scene he is broken, incapable of righting his wrongs, and goes to visit a woman sitting at the grave of another victim of gang violence.  He speaks with her, asks about her grieving process.  Then he asks the mother if she visits his graveside every week.  She responds, every day.  And the interviewer stops, softly startled.  And I broke.

The next morning I was staring at a picture I took in Nicaragua, of a boy with whom I had spent an afternoon, and with whom I developed a small friendship.  As I stared, and remembered walking with him, taking pictures with him, teaching him about the American Noogie and him giving me a hug, it dawned on me that for a moment he may have seen me as a father of sorts.  And I broke.  I wish he had so much more, that I could be so much more.  And it reminded me of how I so long for a father in the Lord.  I hope my friend longs for the same.

Third, I was at Ananias prayer at Saint Andrews, and I remembered that Psalm 44 had seemed important that morning.  I read it out loud to those praying with me, and as I did, I broke.  I began to cry.  Even as I cried, I didn't 'feel' moved.  Yet I cried, and could not stop.  It struck a root.  Some of it was compassion, so hurting for the writer of the prayer, but some was self-pity.  I have felt so deeply forgotten, alone, forsaken, that the words to the Psalm fit like a key in a lock, opening me to a very raw sense of experience and truth.  I recommend reading Psalms out loud.  That was how they were meant to be encountered.

Fourth, stations of the cross at the Cathedral downtown.  The presentation of Jesus' suffering was very moving, drawing me both to my knees and to stand at different times.  At one point, everyone else was sitting, except for one old man an aisle away.  But I needed to stand, in respect and honor, and was glad to not be the only one.

All of these moments related to loss, relationship, and a powerfully seated love. I'm not sure what they mean to me, beyond the beauty that was experienced in the momentary sadness.  However, I remain watching and waiting to see if the Lord draws me elsewhere through them.

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Third, and finally, a song.  Stafford, Ben, and I have been reworking and rewriting it, so it may sound nothing like this in the end.  But, for now, it will do.

Don't Be Afraid (By My Wounds)

As always, if you have any questions, or any insights, drop me a line.