In Sickness and In Health

Apparently, my number is up and it's my turn to be sick. I've been sick for the past few days, but I'm feeling a little better now. I live by myself in a studio apartment, and I was soon reminded of how dismal it is to be sick and alone. I wondered how long it would take for people to discover if I had died in my apartment. A week ago, I gave a sermon on Heaven at our church, and I pictured people testifying at my funeral and saying things like "God recently prompted Ryan to speak on being homesick for Heaven and now he is there, how beautiful! (or ironic?)." When I'm sick, I start to develop cabin fever from being quarantined for hours and hours watching mindless, melodramatic movies. When I was little I sometimes hallucinated when I got sick. During one delusion, I watched a monster truck drive over our house, crushing me inside. I hope I don't die like that.

Oddly enough, being sick makes me think about marriage more. Maybe, that's selfish or maybe that's by design. Meaning that when we feel fragile and vulnerable it makes us need others. Especially God. I pray more when I'm sick. Not just prayers for healing, but prayers that are more like conversations. Maybe, it's just the cabin fever setting in or maybe sickness slows us down enough so that we're able to simply enjoy God's company. Illness often helps me rethink my life because I'm reminded of how mortal I am. It is humbling that a little germ can come in like a Trojan horse and conquer me from the inside out, leveling me for days.

I wonder which will be more glorious in marriage, to share happy moments or to share hardships? I'm beginning to realize that I look forward to both. These days, I find myself fantasizing about the reality of marriage (if that make sense), and that's a big step for a dreamer. In wedding vows, the words "for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health" have always sounded bittersweet and ominous to me, a death-wish of sorts. But I'm realizing that to love each other during the low points is actually a more blessed love. Real love seems to go deeper during the storms, and if two people love each other through those times then they will emerge closer in the end. In other words, when life gets hard, it is an opportunity to love harder.

Honestly, I have become so independent, that it's difficult to imagine becoming "one" with somebody else. I'm sure that I will get the better end of the deal. It is remarkable how marriage speaks of our "oneness" with God. Often, I feel like I'm trying to earn a oneness with God that I already have. I try to make myself more presentable, even when my heart is ill. But God knows and He continues to love me "in sickness," shouldering my burdens and nursing me back to health. And in the end, I feel closer to Him. More in love with Him. Desiring to do nice things for Him.

I thought I was done with this blog and then I realized that I left a culprit unaccounted for. We writers have a tendency to beautify things with lilting words, often avoiding reality. For instance, even the phrase "in sickness and in health" still carries with it a certain poetry. Part of the problem is that we are groomed to believe that love is always dramatic. But I just realized that it is neither the highs or lows that characterize most marriages, but it is the in-betweens. After all, that's where we spend most of our time, in the ever-present mundane. It is still somewhat romantic to think of loving someone through the dramatic lows, and yet I wonder if it isn't harder to love someone when there isn't any drama at all. Maybe, wedding vows should include the promise to love "even when it's dull and boring." Nobody looks forward to a marriage full of paying bills and cleaning the house and visiting the doctor. And yet those things are a part of the ordinary rhythm of life, whether we are married or not. I think I'm onto something. When there is no drama, we let our guard down, and it seems like that would be the most opportune time for the cunning devil to have his way with a relationship. So, I need to love not only when it feels good or bad, but especially when it doesn't feel like anything. In our relationship with God, we call that faith. The Christian life is often less epic than we make it sound. We soon find that it is hardest to live for God when Heaven seems to have stopped singing over us.

I think that the purpose of marriage is different than what most people look forward to. And it seems to be the same thing with Christianity. We sign-up to receive the benefits of love, but we are only able to relish it when we become mature enough to give it. It's the point in life when a child realizes that Christmas isn't about getting presents or eating cookies, but that it's about giving. That's why selfish people never find love, they don't recognize it, they're looking for the wrong thing.

Wholehearted

A thorn of a question has been nagging me for quite awhile now. The question is this: What does it mean to live all-out for Jesus? To put it another way: What does it mean to be a wholehearted Christian? I don't like questions like that because there is never an easy-to-swallow answer. Living "all-out" for Jesus sounds hip and thrilling until you actually try to do it. You soon find yourself on a lonely narrow road, and you begin to wonder if you're going the right way, while everyone else is going the other way. If someone says that the answer to my question is to "live like Jesus lived" then I don't know anyone personally who is a wholehearted Christian, me included. Jesus walked around all day, everyday preaching to unbelievers. Most Christians just preach to other Christians. Jesus didn't have a house or a paying job and yet He constantly helped people to the point of exhaustion. I don't know many homeless Christians, and I certainly don't know any homeless Christians who are constantly helping people.

At this point, most people will quickly play the "grace card." Yes, I too am grateful for grace, but I'm not sure that it lets us off the hook so easily. I wonder if Jesus was serious when He said that we must "lose our lives" and "take up our cross and follow Him." When Jesus told the rich young ruler to "sell all his possessions" he didn't give him a loophole and add "or you can just talk about grace a lot." I wonder what all of this means for me in 2010 here in America. I feel like writing a book, but I don't think that we need another book. I feel like writing a song, but the world doesn't need another song either. Frankly, I get tired of Christian talk. I've grown up with it and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of Christians talking about how church should be done. I'm tired of Christians talking about their latest epiphany from God or their latest profound insight on easy-to-understand Scriptures. I'm tired of hearing Christians pray without lifting a finger and telling God to do everything. More than anything, I'm tired of Christians telling other Christians what to do and not living up to their preaching. I'm amazed at how much Christians talk and don't really do much more than that. I'm guilty of this too, and it bothers me. But then I come back to my initial question and it bothers me too. What does it mean to really live for Jesus? What are we really supposed to be doing with these lives that will soon vanish like a vapor? I think it's more than just occasionally telling people about God. I think it's more than just being a family man. I think it's more than smiling and hugging and opening doors for people. I think it's more than being in "ministry." It's definitely more than singing songs. Sometimes, I wish Jesus would've just spelled it all out, step by step, and yet that would've led to mere legalism, not love. At any rate, I'm not sure that I want a feel-good resolution to my question because that only enables me to get comfortable again. And yet, I don't want to remain comfortable with ambiguity either. No, I must know the answer, but only an answer that demands change.

Sometimes, I'm on the verge of selling everything and moving to a third-world country and living out my days in impoverished obscurity and yet happy that I will be known by Jesus in heaven. I wonder if that's what Jesus meant by choosing Him over the world. Most Christians would say that they would gladly do that too if that's what God told them to do. But it's so easy to "hear" God "say" what we want Him to say, it enables us to find loopholes in boldface, pointblank Scriptures that demand everything of us.

I'm just thinking out loud. The finger is pointed at you and me. I don't think God wants us to feel guilty about any of this, but I do think He wants us to feel a little bit uncomfortable. Lord, I need to be wholehearted, show me what that means, eternity is at stake. . .

My Secret Bench

Last week, I found a secret bench along the Willamette river. In all my river wanderings, I'd never spotted it before. There's no path leading to it, it's just there, as if it just grew out of the shaggy ground like the trees around it (I'm sorry, I cannot disclose the location of my secret bench at this time). At least I thought it was a secret bench, until I came back the next day and found a homeless man sleeping on it. So I guess it's a secret to me and the homeless man, it's our little secret. I'm not sure why I automatically assume that he was homeless, maybe he thought I was homeless when I was sitting on his bench. After all, I'm sporting a fairly grizzly beard as of late. Anyway, my secret bench is my new favorite spot in the world. I love it. It's magical and insular and weird. I now have a new view of little ol' Corvallis. It makes me wonder how many other things that I walk past everyday and don't even see. I am the type of person who relishes new perspectives. I like to go down roads that I've never been down before. I thrive on new inspiration and inspiration comes from new experiences, new places, new people, new benches. I also like to observe familiar concepts from new angles. Familiar things like love.

Love is like that Chinese puzzle that you can never solve. It sits on the coffee table, defiant, daring you to play with it. You fiddle with it day after day, and yet the mystery remains locked inside. Sometimes you get frustrated and throw it across the room, but inevitably you pick it up and try again, not knowing whether you're getting closer to the solution or not. And yet, it's well worth it. I can't imagine a world without love. I wonder what we would do with our time. So much of what we do depends on our desire to be loved and to love others.

I want to keep exploring the secrets of love. I never want it to become ordinary. I don't think love itself could ever really become ordinary, but my perspective of love very well could. As much as I try to figure out love, I don't really want to figure it out. I want it to remain as that secret bench, numinous, a haven from everything I already know. More than anything, I always want love to remind me of God.

It is unfortunate that the phrase "God loves you" has lost its bang for most people. It has become as commonplace as saying "bless you" when someone sneezes. It doesn't really stop us in our tracks, it doesn't take our breath away, it doesn't make us teary-eyed. Why is that? Perhaps, we don't need another sermon on God's love. But maybe, we need more clarification about God Himself. There's something wrong when human love means more to me than God's love. Maybe, we don't know God as well as we think we do. Maybe, we need to focus on Who it is that loves us. Only then, can the confession of His puzzling love stop us, slay us, rescue us, and change us.

Mmm Good

I'm enjoying a steaming cup of coffee with a splash of cream. I'm enjoying the earthy serenade of Jack Johnson in the background. I'm enjoying the crispness of the morning, ushering in a day that has never happened before. And more than anything, I'm enjoying God.

I recently realized how often my prayers begin with the phrase "I'm sorry." In view of God, I'm always sorry for something. I'm sorry I did this, I'm sorry I didn't do that, I'm sorry I'm like this, I'm sorry I said that, I'm sorry I thought that, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. If it's not one thing then it's another. Moreover, I've realized how much of my Christianity is compelled by guilt rather than love. And how much I try to add to the work of the cross and earn forgiveness by punishing myself and undergoing a non-stop cycle of self-flagellation. So often I misplace the heart of my faith. I begin to see God as a tightly-wound referee ready to blow the whistle on everything I do wrong. Nobody likes referees, and it's hard to love a God like that.

There is certainly a place for being sorry. The Bible says that godly sorrow brings repentance. But the whole point of repentance is to throw open the curtains and let forgiveness shine in. I wonder at what point do we simply walk in the confidence and freedom that we are completely forgiven and declared innocent forever? At what point do we get past the pummeling waves of condemnation and out into the open sea where we lay back and relax in the calm warmth of God?

You don't have to attend church for very long before the "do's and don'ts" of Christianity worm their way into your soul. Don't sleep around, don't get drunk, don't cuss, don't lie, don't steal, don't kill people (it's not polite), don't read Harry Potter. We get it. But we often lose sight of the reality that beyond the rules, ultimately, we were meant to simply enjoy God. It is a miserable thing when obligation chokes out adoration. A kiss of duty is hardly loving.

It's interesting that God created so many delightful things in this world. For instance, He created food, not only to serve a practical purpose by keeping our bodies alive, but He gave us sensitive taste buds to savor the myriad of mouth-watering flavors, the delicate nuances of spices and sauces. Food is delicious, and we enjoy it. And He created sex to be enjoyed within the fire pit of marriage. He could've created sex simply to serve the purpose of reproduction, instead He designed it be hot and passionate. He created the aesthetic of nature to be pleasing to our eyes. The Bible says that we can see the invisible attributes of God in His creation, like any piece of art that is an extension of the artist. He handcrafted food and sex and nature, and they all speak of the reality that God is to be enjoyed. He is truly good. The next time you address God, hear Him hush your guilt-ridden words and feel Him snatch you up, tossing you into the air and catching you in His kind arms. Laugh. Live. Breathe. Enjoy.

My Big Fat Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is almost here. Alas, I don't have a Valentine. But don't worry, this isn't going to be a "poor me" sort of blog. The truth is that I've never liked Valentine's Day, even when I've had a girlfriend to celebrate it with. It always brings with it so much commercialization and pressure and competition and letdown. I'm not sure I understand the point of it all. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for romance, but why do we need a holiday to exploit it? Must we profane the sanctuary of the heart with cheap novelties? Do I sound bitter? I'm really not. Hmm, I just realized that I feel the same way during Valentine's Day as I feel at a wedding. I don't feel jealous or depressed or anything like that, I just feel cornered and interrogated. I ask myself many merciless questions like: Ryan, why are you single? After all, singleness really is a choice. I could be with somebody if I really wanted to be. That's not prideful, all of us choose singleness one way or another. Some of us are holding out for the best, some of us have been hurt too much by past relationships, some of us really enjoy our liberty, some of us are too scared to put ourselves out there. At times like this, I also question what exactly I'm looking for.

At the risk of sounding overly quixotic, I'm looking for a girl that causes me to stop looking altogether. I'm looking for a love that carries our hearts to new heavens. I'm looking for that delicate hand that fits so perfectly in mine, as if it was there all along. I want to love someone completely, so as to gladly exile myself into the silk of her eyes. I hope that each kiss will unlock a deeper yearning to be closer and closer still. I want a love that will never stop laughing and singing in the face of life's brooding tempest. I want an immortal love. Is all of this too much to ask? Am I a fool to suffer such high hopes? I hope not. If none of this is possible then I'd rather not love at all, for it has nothing more to offer. And yet, I choose to believe in many things that are foolish. I do believe in love. A married man might say that I don't know anything about love. But I'm not convinced that married people are experts on love just because they're married. Look at all the marriage counseling, not to mention the divorces. Let's face it, nobody has love figured out. As for me, I choose to believe in a love that defies the odds. A love that abides at the threshold of heaven and earth. I choose to believe in a love that unveils a much better world. Not a love with an expiration date. Of course, God agrees with me on all of this. Or I agree with God. Either way, we're both right. Anyway, I guess, Jesus will be my only Valentine this year. Sorry, too bad, I asked Him first.

Ravenous

Our church has been fasting together this week. Yeah, it's a little weird, like most spiritual things, but it's biblical. I think that anytime you do something out of the ordinary then it gives opportunity for the extraordinary. So, we are interrupting our routines hoping that God will do whatever He wants to do. We are huddled on a slippery precipice, looking foolish in order to see something amazing. The expectancy is raw and electric.

God hasn't done any magic tricks yet. Nothing phenomenal has happened so far, at least nothing visible. At church, we sing about fire a lot, but so far nobody has spontaneously combusted. One time, the fire alarm went off during a Sunday morning, perhaps God was taking us literally. Anyway, if people want a good firework display then they should go to Disneyland. The fireworks there are crazy awesome, full of lasers and fireballs and a flying Tinkerbell. But it seems like God rarely works like that. Even when people claim to be healed of something, usually you can't really see it. And when someone is born again, they usually look pretty much the same on the surface, except that there is an air of love and peace about them that wasn't there before. It seems that God is more concerned with what is happening underneath it all. He's always been preoccupied with the condition of hearts. He wants to go deeper than surface level symptoms. He wants changed hearts, not just good ratings. This week, the tone of many prayers has been that of heartfelt yearning. Yearning for God-knows-what, just something that only God could do.

I know for me, my growling hunger pangs for God have been louder than usual. I think it all starts there. With desire. We must first nurture the desire for more. We will not see God do miraculous things with us if we don't desire it. And in order to love madly, we first desire to love. Our passions for earthly things must me rerouted toward God. That is why we cannot serve two masters. Our passion is so one tracked, it's more like obsession. We feed our imaginations until they find an open door into reality. In the end, our deepest desires navigate us. That is why we are fasting. Of course, eating food is not bad. But we slave for the whims of our flesh all too much, and sometimes we must remind our flesh that it is not our God. We prove that Jesus is our first love when we are willing to give up other loves for Him. It would be ridiculous to have girls hanging on both my arms and tell them each that they are the only one for me. Love is never content with halfheartedness. What if we became obsessed with God? There's really only one alternative. . .

Fireproof

I think I might be the last person to watch "Fireproof." I watched it yesterday. I put off watching it because I didn't want to watch another cheesy low-budget Christian movie starring Kirk Cameron. That and I'm not married (that's not a cry for help). Anyway, it exceeded my low expectations and I found myself vicariously engaged in the plot and characters even though I couldn't relate. For me, it further unraveled the intricate mysteries of love. More than anything, I was freshly awed by the power of forgiveness. I was reminded that forgiveness is to be given even when it's not deserved. Especially, when it is not deserved. A relationship that steps to the rhythm of forgiveness will walk all the way to the pearly gates.

Many people who watch this movie will think that it was the "Love Dare" that saved the marriage, but that's not true at all. It was forgiveness. It would've been a much shorter movie had it all started with the asking of forgiveness. If only they had started with talking through hurts, instead of pretending that they weren't there. But Caleb had to recognize the generous forgiveness of God in order to both forgive and receive his wife's forgiveness. Forgiveness is so unnatural. From a young age, we have a visceral sense of what is fair and what is not, but forgiveness changes all of that. It is a call for a truce when the only alternative is a vicious cycle of revenge, where everyone loses in the end. Forgiveness is asylum for those who are tired of fighting and have forgotten what they are fighting about. Forgiveness is a pact to never mention those offenses again, they were debts that couldn't be paid and so they were canceled. They were pages that have been torn out of an immortal story.

I believe that forgiveness is the greatest healing of all. Jesus not only came to heal infirmities, but more importantly, to heal souls. He always told people that they were forgiven. He dished out forgiveness like He was giving away money. He enjoyed it. And those of us who have forgiven someone, know the levity of its freedom. It is the feeling of a long winter sighing at the sight of spring.

It is hardest to love when it is not given in return. But that's when love burns the brightest. As I type this, Don Henley is singing an oldie on the radio. He's singing "I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter, but I think it's about forgiveness. . .forgiveness, even if. . .even if you don't love me anymore." Amen, Don, amen.