Submission is a bitch.
I'm so totally exhausted. I may not have said this in the past because I've been scared of what people would think of my "miracle" faith. Not today. I'm broke down and I'm wearing it like the clown suit it is.
I have story to tell today. I have been troubled by the impracticality of the paradox of God's sovereignty and free will. I have this slick little diatribe that arose from the period in my life when I was concerned with proving everything. It goes like this: It is true that we can not reconcile the characteristics of God in this finite mind, but this fact is assurance because it illustrates the infinite nature of God, His hugeness, if you will. And that is reason to worship Him, because He boggles our minds, He shows His worthiness in incomprehensible enormity yada, yada. This little chunk of cheeky philosophy does so little for me in application.
I ask God what to do with myself. I ask for advice when I don't know what to do. The other night I was invited to a friends house for dinner, but I didn't know what bus to take and it was getting late. I prayed to know what to do. I knew I needed to go see people because I was feeling really isolated and depressed. Of course, I didn't want to. Something curious I have noticed: My perception of God's will seems far too often to be not what seems right but whatever is contrary to what I want. I contradict myself. So I decide that I think God wants me to go.
So I go. I get on the bus and ride down to Beacon Hill. I feel good about things at this point. On the way down I start fantasizing about how things will go down at my friends'. I imagine that I will be courageous enough to let my guard down and lean on my friends to help carry my pain. In short, I start gearing up for encounter. I get off the bus at what I later learned was the wrong stop. Unsure of which direction exactly my friends' place is, I wander around a bit looking for the street. I fail to find any sign of there house, street or their neighborhood. I wander back toward the bus stop starting to feel really dejected. On the way back I pass a lit window in a warehouse with the words "Christian Church" or something like that on it. I walk closer and see that there is about ten black people in chairs listening to a man pray. The only words I remember him saying were,"...and God loves you no matter what, whether you like it or not!" I decided not to go in, and right after I did a little girl opened her eyes and waved at me. The whole scene spoke to my heart and a sobs started creeping up my throat. I snuck away back toward the bus stop. My frustration was building.
Back at the bus stop I succumbed to the loneliness of the moment and sobbed at my inability to be known. 45 minutes later the bus came and I for some reason continued to trudge on my mission even though it was now two hours past when I said I would be there and completely dark. I get off at the right stop find a bike path that I think goes toward their house. I walk down it for about a half a mile and realize that I have no idea where I am. This is the last straw. I sit down on the bike path and cry. I mumble through sobs,"Why?" I lay back on the path and stare into the sky. A man rides bike and asks me if I'm alright and I snap, "I'm fine."
I wander back the other direction still unable to let go of my plan to find the house. I follow the bike path past the bus stop the other direction and end up so lost that I finally give up and concede to just walking until I find a bus to get home. By now I felt like I was in other world. I had never been to the place I was walking. I was in an emotional whirlwind of pride and sorrow. As I wandered the scene changed into a view over a lit span bridge reaching out over the intersecting road below. There was a pagoda looking gazebo in the grass behind me. It felt like an empty scene out of Blade Runner. I wander up a hill and I come up on the Veteran's Hospital. The place looks like an insane asylum. It is lit from top to bottom and sits on top of a hill surrounded by skinny trees that filter the light reflected off the monolith.
Past the hospital was the destination of my journey. I came to a parking lot on the side of the hill and the view from there looked something like this:
I was still too prideful to allow myself to enjoy the adventure at hand. The smells that night were bizarre too. Each place I wandered had a smell about it that took me back to random places from my life. It was strange. I caught a bus across from the parking lot and rode home. When I got there I was confused and defeated. I thought I was pursuing something God wanted me to do. I ended the night by checking my email and seeing that 6 people had read this blog and prayed for me at random. I only got about half way through the first email and broke down again on the floor squeaking out sobs. This time there was distinct tinge of guilt to my self-pity.
I finally came to end of myself back at the place I started. The whole night God let me run to the end of myself to the see the beauty in surrender. I'll still complain after seeing that things are okay even though they are out of my hands. I still haven't settled down. I've got my agenda and it seems to me that I can't even see it until God let's me run my self ragged.
Something about the catharsis of the night landed me in a place of raw reality. On the bus ride home a man was sitting opposite me who looked like he was traveling. He had a mullet with one dreadlock, hiking boots and canvas bag. He incited the wanderlust in me. The heady drink of staring down reality with suicidal abandon had intoxicated me with the courage to pursue the thought. The tenets of societal norms and mandates of secular control have once again ensnared me. I'd thought maybe I was courageous or enlightened before, but evidently not. The need for control of life through possessions, relationships and security are felt like an snake that has outgrown his skin. So many things govern my life that are not God. I want to be free.
I'm not sure why God get all the credit for good and I get all the credit for the bad. I am a little man, and a confused one at that. I want to try and end this story with a nice little bow to tie it all together with some profound meaning behind it all. The only thing I've got for a bow right now is shoestring. I guess surrender today accepting that I don't know what the hell is going on.