You Can Do Better Than Me

I almost had it.  

Less talk, more rock.

The Breakthroughs and the Breakdowns (Word Up!)

In the past week, something has come to my attention:  I don't do very well saying what I mean.

I know that writing is a nice outlet that allows me to slowly, carefully, and thoughtfully type each word (and delete entire paragraphs, for that matter), but I don't convey the same intentional thought when I'm speaking.  If any of you know me, you'll know that when I talk, I take long pauses, don't stare into your eyes, and when you tell me something in response to what I just said, I look at you, and keep talking, as if you never said anything.  And, about five minutes after I start talking, I take a longer pause, look to my upper right, and completely forget what I was trying to say.  Then, three seconds later, I remember and start up again.  Rinse.  Repeat.

I don't know what it is about me that makes me feel like I have to say every single word that is floating in my head, but the thought of not saying just one idea feels like being held underwater.  Remember that kid in school who raised his/her hand after every question the teacher asked, eagerly waiting to tell the whole class the answer?  That wasn't me.  I didn't hear the question, because I was too busy talking to my neighbor (or God or myself or whomever).  Or if I wasn't talking, I was writing down sentences.  Random sentences.  Which leads me to my point.  Wait, what was I saying?  Oh, right...

I want to be thoughtful in what I say.  

The past few meetings I had with my mentor, there were moments of what I call the "breakdown."  It occurred when I, trying to be somewhat brave, attempted to open up and say something profound or secret.  What actually happened was I ended up going in a million circles (around myself, of course) and I made myself dizzy.   I hate when that occurs, because it's not what I intended to happen.  I don't know if it's fear or maybe even the unwillingness to tell the whole truth, but I end up spewing out a bunch of words that don't mean much.  The truth is, I leave our meetings feeling very encouraged. But, sometimes, more often than not, I sometimes leave thinking Was I, just now, really boring to him?  Post-meeting, I think of the breakthroughs, and lately, more often, of the breakdowns.  The awkward bits of nothing.

If anything, it is the good Lord leading me into a place of being quick to listen and slow to speak.  I know that I learn through speaking.  Some learn through listening.  That's not to say that I listen to myself because I am the source of infinite knowledge.  It's just to say that I have the ability to take in so much, and usually speaking out my thoughts is how I learn from what I've taken in.  And, I think we're all like that to some degree.

I always like reading the bits of the bible about the words we speak.  I think language, in general, is an amazing thing to think about.  I think that words are highly underrated.  People always talk about actions speaking louder than words, but I think that's just because people say a lot of nothing important.  There is an amazing power that lies within the spoken word.  Think of I love you or I hate you or I'm sorry or I want to confess something...  The weight of words that are backed by truth and intention are unmatched by any other action.  

It is true that without actions, our faith is dead.  But, faith comes by hearing (and hearing by the word of Christ), which means something is being said, which means the beginning of new beginnings comes from something being heard, and us responding.  If you confess with your mouth...  

As I reflect back to these past few years, as the pain has made its way out of my sub-conscience and into what seems like every fabric of my existence, I think a lot about the past.  The childhood.  A lot of pain from others' past is by the words that someone spoke to them.  I think mine comes from words that weren't spoken.  And, perhaps that is why I need to speak so much.  Somehow, the millions of words will compensate what wasn't said, and one day, I will run out of things to say and I will be without pain.    

I'm not really sure how Heaven works, but I know I want to go.  Eternity is a scary thing, and when more than 20 seconds is given to think about it, I usually end up doubting it.  But, the thought of singing and praising God forever feels like home.  The eternal words full of eternal truth are words that should be said, and trusted, more often,

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord, God almighty 

Who was, Who is, and Who's coming.    

 

Life After God

I live on the fifth floor of my condo building.  There are some days I feel like I could open my window, step out into the open air, and walk across the sky.  The invitation to life seems good and true, and it tugs me into a state of euphoria.  Then, there are other days I feel like opening the window, stepping out, and... dropping.  The invitation is too good to be true (read: false), there is no persistent joy, and there will never be a permanent light-heartedness that I want to have.

When I was 16 or 17, I imagined myself at 25 living this amazing life, suffering in a cool way for Jesus.  I thought I'd have it together, have a hot girlfriend/wife, and we would both do these amazing things together.  I never even thought I would really be 25.  And, now that I am 25, I can't help but to feel a little... let down.  

The suffering, for me, is more in the failed relationships.  It's the weight of not having enough.  It's the worry of never finding someone to spend my life with.  I wanted to be suffering for something worth suffering for, not because the band I play in doesn't have a booking agent.  Not because I had an awkward conversation with my dad.  Not because I hate scanning peoples' groceries.  

The reality is, if I continue to relate being depressed and unmotivated to suffering, then I will never find the joy in suffering.  If I make my mindset the suffering, I am giving myself a false-sense of what it really means to suffer.

The suffering for a believer is from God, not from our situations.  It could never exist from the problems of the world, because there is no hope offered in the things in this world.  If the joy is in the suffering, then the suffering must be from God.  If it is not from God (or, my outlook says it is not), then the joy I could've found in the suffering turns into an endless list of problems and pains and can never, ever go away and I will be miserable forever.  Or, I will fool myself into believing that there are only a few problems that arise every now and again, and that is just the way life works.

The wake-up call for me came about 24 hours ago.  It was found in the existence of stumbling sentences, short pauses, pointless questions, and interrupted answers.  It came in a letdown.  It came from understanding that this road marked with suffering cannot, and will not, come with expected problems and predictable outcomes.  It came with a sinking feeling, but it came as truth.

One of my favorite books is by a guy named Douglas Coupland and it's called Life After God.  I don't want to give away the end, but I need to in order to illustrate my point.  One of the characters in the book goes through a whirlwind of events, and finally at the end of the craziness, says, "My secret is that I need God."  Out of nowhere, he just comes out and says that.  

In context to the uncertainty and pain that occurs in my own life every day, sometimes it feels good to just say "I need God."