Over the last few days I have found myself in tearful moments. They have been centered on my relationship with God and community.
It’s no secret that I have felt hurt, burned, crapped on lately by this ‘tribe’ I belong to. I won’t go into the whys, because I believe my next move is not to focus on "poor me" or why, but to reflect on how I feel, and focus on changing that. I can only change me, not them. I have to take responsibility for my part in the healing.
Most of me wants to duck and cover. Stay in church sabbatical mode forever. But lately – this thing is welling up again. I want to find a community of faith again. Not a perfect one, I am not stupid enough to think that actually exists. My friend Sarcastic Lutheran recently posted about her emerging (birthing and also emergent) community and said it this way.
Two days ago when House met at my home we talked about the service
and the gal (cello player and all around force of nature) who had
invited her friends shared with us that they had all said how much they
realized that there is no space in their lives in which their deepest
longings and concerns are voiced and held. This is why the Gospel is
the Gospel. It is good news, good in that it frees us from the bondage
of self and news in that it is not something we can create ourselves,
it is always new. And this Gospel of Christ – God with us, incarnate,
wise, crucified and risen addresses our deepest longings in a way that
recycling, yoga, eating organic, therapy and even human love cannot.
It is a wild and unbidden laughing tale which calls us to our fullest
and most broken selves.
In 5 minutes of intentional silence yesterday, all I could do was let the tears roll. I could not connect with why. They just came. I am sad. I am hurt. I know it is up to me to "heal thy self" but it strikes me really strange that something that is so deeply relational, so all about me and my neighbor being in relationship with one another, that I have to go this healing process alone. I guess this is what it feels like to be left (as in my partner walked out on me).
But what a cop out that is. I left too. I couldn’t stay in the kitchen, it was hot. I was my true Cancer self and shifted away then hid inside my safe, hard, protective shell.
1. I spoke truth to power, then power said ‘F-you’ anyway. I’ll take the morally bankrupt power brokers over your little pee-on self.
2. I gave up when times got awkward. I judged. When I reached out and got no response, I thought fine then, you don’t want me, I am outta here.
3. I decided that when the tough got going, I could not hang around to let the emotions be flung at me like dung. I don’t like playing reindeer games.
All of these stories have two sides. I know that the people involved with #1 are good, kind, smart people. The choices they made were probably difficult for them. In ministry it is not just about business, but also about what is deeply personal, deeply pastoral. Maybe in case #1 they thought I was strong enough to handle it. Still – they did not keep their word, did not honor the agreement, and I feel jilted – while the icky, sexually inappropriate crap is still not dealt with. In case #2, I know they have and had a lot going on. My little concerns were probably no match for the larger issues at hand. #3 – it just has pain on both sides written all over it. I could not figure out how to communicate in this landscape. It was like crying out into a vast wide valley of pain and ego.
I am trying to see and admit fully that I made choices that I thought were best for me. I know they were the right choices with the emotional fortitude I had, as well as the information I had. But like everything, choices have consequences. Now the consequences are hanging all over me, like I just got slimed by the Ghostbusters.
And why is this bugging me anyway? Today is a new day. A new creation. A whole new joy. A world of surprises for me to discover, presents of the present. If I can believe in this, and really feel it, accept the grace that today is a new day, and that God loves my sad, broken ass self as much as God loves my wildly beautiful, crazy, love filled, abundant self – AND welcome the grace in, then maybe, maybe a way to healing can happen.
Time to find another 20 minutes of silence, and see what comes.
Thanks for hanging in for this ridiculously long post.