How many movies have ended with a wedding? As if that is the end of the story. As if that is the resolution to any and all conflict. As if that is the end of the adventure. I want to make a movie that begins with a wedding. . .
The other day, I realized that a germ of a lie had crept into my head. The lie is this-I will be happy if I get married. I wonder how many people enter into marriage or a dating relationship expecting the other person to fix them. Is that what marriage is all about? Just another self-improvement method? People parrot the words "It is not good that man should be alone," but as singles, we hear them saying "As long as you're unmarried, you will be unhappy and broken." Jesus wasn't married, and apparently it was good for him to "be alone." Anyway, that verse about man being alone, was uttered in the context of Adam being the only human being on the planet, he was utterly alone. No friends, no family. For some reason, people quote that verse as if marriage is the cure to loneliness. However, I know that their are many married people who still feel lonely. Be that as it may, it is interesting that Adam had unfiltered communion with God, and yet he was declared to be alone. Evidently, we need people, and that's okay. God designed most people for marriage. It's okay to love God with all your heart and still desire to be married. We were designed for fellowship with others, and marriage seems to be the deepest fellowship that we can have with another human being. It involves sharing absolutely everything. It involves being absolutely naked with somebody. It involves sex, the indelible bonding of two souls. Marriage is the confluence of two lives.
These days, there is a lot of talk about living in the present, the now, as a means to contentment. A couple years ago, I took a world religions class. I learned that Buddhism places a heavy emphasis on living in the now. Our assignment was to go into the MacDonald Forest and try to fully exist in the moment. It was the opposite of escapism. I was to drink in my surroundings and become fully aware of my thoughts and senses. It was an attempt to freeze time. It was very calming. It was also very difficult. It is tricky to think about what you are thinking about. Sometimes, people ask me what I'm thinking about, and I don't know what to say, because my mind feels like a buzzing beehive. Anyway, I stood in that forest, trying to think about what I was thinking about. And then the most annoying question popped up-Why? Why am I doing this? What is the point of being so engrossed in the moment that I have to go stand in a forest by myself? Dwelling on myself is depressing, not liberating. With that in mind, I can't think of any scriptures about the importance of living in the moment, but I can think of several verses about living one day at a time. We're told to not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough worries of its own. We're told to pray "Give us this day our daily bread." We're told to hold our future plans loosely, and say "Lord willing, we will do this or that," because we have no idea what will happen tomorrow. And we're told to not look back once we've put our hand to the plow. Naturally, it seems that all of my discontentment flows from living too much in the past or in the future. I will only be content if I'm able to live for today, not focusing on what could've been or what should be, but simply appreciating what is. Another day is before me. An opportunity to live and love people. An opportunity to be content in God.
If you are single, say this sentence out loud "Marriage is not the meaning of life." Louder!. . .okay, not that loud. We mustn't try to find our life's meaning in marriage. We're not going to be married in Heaven. Marriage is temporary, like everything else in this world. What you are doing right now and whatever you do later on today- going to work, mowing the lawn, grocery shopping, getting a haircut- it's all temporary. Most of it is quite meaningless. After all, it's not about what you're doing, but it's about why you are doing it. If it's not for God's glory in some way, either directly or indirectly, then it's meaningless. And you will feel a divine discontentment in your soul. Similarly, if you invest in marriage only for the sake of having a good marriage, then it is meaningless. But if you are truly doing it for God's glory, then it will shine as eternal gold.
Here's my new outlook on the matter. I am not going to expect marriage to grant me contentment. 1 Timothy says that "Godliness with contentment is great gain." Apparently, godliness is linked with contentment, it has nothing to do with circumstances. It is a godliness that contents itself in an unchanging God. It is possible to be "godly" and yet not content yourself in God. That's where most Christians err. I want to achieve that sort of steadfast, divine contentment before I get married, so that I don't put impossible pressure on my wife to make me happy. I'm not going to enter into a relationship with the idea that we will fix each other. Only God can fix us. I want to get married for the sole purpose of loving God more through our togetherness.
Yesterday, I was trying to be content with life as usual, not just concerning relationships, but with everything. I prayed "God, if you want me to settle, then I will settle." He told me not to pray that anymore. It seems that there is a place for godly contentment, but there is also room for godly discontentment. If you've read the Bible, then you will notice that God never told people to get comfortable. God is not a very good massage therapist. He always imposes on people's comforts, roughing them up a little. That's fine with me, I get bored easily.
Anyway, each day seems to be a temporal bridge between yesterday and tomorrow. My world is changing, I am changing. I know I am in the fold of providence, and so whatever bridge I am on right now, is a bridge worth crossing. I want to keep moving forward, following hard on God's heels, and God is always on the move. But I also need to learn to enjoy the journey, laughing and singing along the way. Say it again-"Marriage is not the meaning of life." Maybe, we should stop asking "What is the meaning of life?" and start asking "What is the meaning of today?"
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Love's Spring
Late April is an aphrodisiac. Beauty is blossoming everywhere, pollinating hearts. Birds are serenading from somewhere in the trees. Lovers are loving, holding hands, locking eyes, lying in the grass under the spotlight of the sun, while time and space orbit around them. They are the kings and queens of their little plot of land in the world. With spring comes hope. And it is always a most happy occasion when hope and love are reunited. The two have always been dear friends to each other.
It seems that love phases through different seasons. There is the spring of love, when it's new and fresh and full of possibilities. It is love's genesis. It's when hearts come out of hiding, daring to dream again. The air is charged with excitement. Then, there is the summer of love, when love is fun and blissful and everything is in its right place. Its when love itself is enough to silence every other desire. It seems as though the euphoria and contentment will last forever. But then the autumn of love begins to set in. Things begin to look different. Colors fade, as an arctic wind whispers foreboding prophecies. The scent of death is in the air. The fire is sputtering. As this point, love's future seems uncertain. Then, without warning, winter falls and all goes dark. It feels as though God has turned his back. You feel as if you made a wrong turn somewhere back there. Hope is nowhere to be found. Your heart feels cold and numb, while praying to survive each moment. Heated passion turns inside out, and your best friend becomes your worst enemy. Life's winter is long and hard on love. But real love endures all things. Then, just when you think that all is lost, the sun breaks the spell and spring returns as if winter was only a bad dream. And love's cycle resets itself.
The other day, someone told me that their grandparents have been married for 60 years. That is a couple lifetimes, from my vantage point. I wonder how many times they've been through the seasonal cycles of love and come out on top. I wonder what advice they would have for me, as someone who has been married for zero years. I wonder how they would blog about love. I wonder if their love now exists in an endless summer, having broken free of love's spin cycle. I wonder if the word "love" means something so different to them that it might as well be called something else. I bet that they are very loving people. I bet that love has become a way of life for them, so much so that they don't even have to think twice about it, it's as natural as tying their shoes. I'm sure that they still go through winters, but I bet their love is unaffected by the changing winds. That reminds me more of God's love. Unchanging. Not seasonal. And yet I am far from that accomplishment. For now, I am sure to venture through the seasons of love, and in the dead of winter I will remind myself that spring is not that far off. Love endures all things.
It seems that love phases through different seasons. There is the spring of love, when it's new and fresh and full of possibilities. It is love's genesis. It's when hearts come out of hiding, daring to dream again. The air is charged with excitement. Then, there is the summer of love, when love is fun and blissful and everything is in its right place. Its when love itself is enough to silence every other desire. It seems as though the euphoria and contentment will last forever. But then the autumn of love begins to set in. Things begin to look different. Colors fade, as an arctic wind whispers foreboding prophecies. The scent of death is in the air. The fire is sputtering. As this point, love's future seems uncertain. Then, without warning, winter falls and all goes dark. It feels as though God has turned his back. You feel as if you made a wrong turn somewhere back there. Hope is nowhere to be found. Your heart feels cold and numb, while praying to survive each moment. Heated passion turns inside out, and your best friend becomes your worst enemy. Life's winter is long and hard on love. But real love endures all things. Then, just when you think that all is lost, the sun breaks the spell and spring returns as if winter was only a bad dream. And love's cycle resets itself.
The other day, someone told me that their grandparents have been married for 60 years. That is a couple lifetimes, from my vantage point. I wonder how many times they've been through the seasonal cycles of love and come out on top. I wonder what advice they would have for me, as someone who has been married for zero years. I wonder how they would blog about love. I wonder if their love now exists in an endless summer, having broken free of love's spin cycle. I wonder if the word "love" means something so different to them that it might as well be called something else. I bet that they are very loving people. I bet that love has become a way of life for them, so much so that they don't even have to think twice about it, it's as natural as tying their shoes. I'm sure that they still go through winters, but I bet their love is unaffected by the changing winds. That reminds me more of God's love. Unchanging. Not seasonal. And yet I am far from that accomplishment. For now, I am sure to venture through the seasons of love, and in the dead of winter I will remind myself that spring is not that far off. Love endures all things.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Art Of Singleness
I wonder how many single people wish they were married, and how many married people wish they were single. . .
I had a great phone conversation with a dear friend who is now married. Amidst the crescendo of chirping kids, she encouraged me to enjoy my singleness while it lasts. She said that when God feels that He can bring more glory to His name through a married Ryan Smith, then He will bring the right woman along. It's a very easy thing for Him to do, as easy as turning a page. It could happen at anytime. One day can change the course of a life. He could even take one of my ribs and fashion a Mrs. Ryan Smith if He so desired (I hope I don't have to call her Mrs. Ryan Smith, that would be weird). He's God and He can do anything. But right now, I'm single. Just singing my solo. So God must feel that I can bring Him more glory as a single person during this chapter of my life.
1 Corinthians 7:32-35 says "I want you to be free from the concerns of this life. An unmarried man can spend his time doing the Lord’s work and thinking how to please him. But a married man has to think about his earthly responsibilities and how to please his wife. His interests are divided. In the same way, a woman who is no longer married or has never been married can be devoted to the Lord and holy in body and in spirit. But a married woman has to think about her earthly responsibilities and how to please her husband. I am saying this for your benefit, not to place restrictions on you. I want you to do whatever will help you serve the Lord best, with as few distractions as possible."
In all honesty, just because I'm single doesn't mean that I always spend my time "doing the Lord's work" or "thinking how to please him." That's the bull's eye, but sometimes, I feel like my singleness is enabling my selfishness. Singleness is virtual anarchy, self-rule, absolute freedom. I am not living with my parents and I'm not living with a spouse. I march to my own rhythm. It's all very simple. Do I really want to complicate things? And yet, I think most singles have this haunting sensation that they're missing out on something amazing. And those of us who've plumbed the depths of singleness and exhausted the luxuries of its liberty, are ready for something new. All the while, the hour-glass of God is patiently keeping time, grain by grain. God is very punctual. This is all part of His plan.
As singles, we must hand over our hearts to God. We are not in limbo, we are not idling, we are learning to love God more than anyone else, more than anything else. Someday, that will be the cornerstone of our marriage. In our impatience, we are learning to be patient. We are learning the art of waiting on God. And that will prove to be a life-saving tool in marriage. In our desperation, we are becoming more desperate for God. To be desperate for anything but God is a dangerous thing. Like Esau, some singles seem to be on the verge of hastily selling their birthright for a bowl of stew. We are also learning to give our freedom and our rights to another, namely God. We are learning what it means to serve. These are virtuous lessons. I think some married people are still trying to live as if they are single. They still can't seem to give up their independence. And so they fight their spouse as if they are leading an insurrection.
I want to marry a woman whose sole purpose is to please God. That way, if I please her then I will also be pleasing God through her. In that case, she will not be a distraction but a window to Heaven. I do not wish to marry someone who has worldly ambitions, because I would feel as if my pains to please her would be shallow and evanescent.
This is a time in my life that I will someday look back on and wonder why I didn't invest more of my freedom in the kingdom of God. I hate regrets. Often times, the tension of not being married, robs us of the joys of being single. I know that marriage will call down new glories, but right now I want to do things for God that I won't be able to do when I'm married. As a single, I feel like an artist, spontaneously splashing buckets of paint onto a canvas. From here, it looks messy, but to God it is a masterful mosaic worth finishing.
I had a great phone conversation with a dear friend who is now married. Amidst the crescendo of chirping kids, she encouraged me to enjoy my singleness while it lasts. She said that when God feels that He can bring more glory to His name through a married Ryan Smith, then He will bring the right woman along. It's a very easy thing for Him to do, as easy as turning a page. It could happen at anytime. One day can change the course of a life. He could even take one of my ribs and fashion a Mrs. Ryan Smith if He so desired (I hope I don't have to call her Mrs. Ryan Smith, that would be weird). He's God and He can do anything. But right now, I'm single. Just singing my solo. So God must feel that I can bring Him more glory as a single person during this chapter of my life.
1 Corinthians 7:32-35 says "I want you to be free from the concerns of this life. An unmarried man can spend his time doing the Lord’s work and thinking how to please him. But a married man has to think about his earthly responsibilities and how to please his wife. His interests are divided. In the same way, a woman who is no longer married or has never been married can be devoted to the Lord and holy in body and in spirit. But a married woman has to think about her earthly responsibilities and how to please her husband. I am saying this for your benefit, not to place restrictions on you. I want you to do whatever will help you serve the Lord best, with as few distractions as possible."
In all honesty, just because I'm single doesn't mean that I always spend my time "doing the Lord's work" or "thinking how to please him." That's the bull's eye, but sometimes, I feel like my singleness is enabling my selfishness. Singleness is virtual anarchy, self-rule, absolute freedom. I am not living with my parents and I'm not living with a spouse. I march to my own rhythm. It's all very simple. Do I really want to complicate things? And yet, I think most singles have this haunting sensation that they're missing out on something amazing. And those of us who've plumbed the depths of singleness and exhausted the luxuries of its liberty, are ready for something new. All the while, the hour-glass of God is patiently keeping time, grain by grain. God is very punctual. This is all part of His plan.
As singles, we must hand over our hearts to God. We are not in limbo, we are not idling, we are learning to love God more than anyone else, more than anything else. Someday, that will be the cornerstone of our marriage. In our impatience, we are learning to be patient. We are learning the art of waiting on God. And that will prove to be a life-saving tool in marriage. In our desperation, we are becoming more desperate for God. To be desperate for anything but God is a dangerous thing. Like Esau, some singles seem to be on the verge of hastily selling their birthright for a bowl of stew. We are also learning to give our freedom and our rights to another, namely God. We are learning what it means to serve. These are virtuous lessons. I think some married people are still trying to live as if they are single. They still can't seem to give up their independence. And so they fight their spouse as if they are leading an insurrection.
I want to marry a woman whose sole purpose is to please God. That way, if I please her then I will also be pleasing God through her. In that case, she will not be a distraction but a window to Heaven. I do not wish to marry someone who has worldly ambitions, because I would feel as if my pains to please her would be shallow and evanescent.
This is a time in my life that I will someday look back on and wonder why I didn't invest more of my freedom in the kingdom of God. I hate regrets. Often times, the tension of not being married, robs us of the joys of being single. I know that marriage will call down new glories, but right now I want to do things for God that I won't be able to do when I'm married. As a single, I feel like an artist, spontaneously splashing buckets of paint onto a canvas. From here, it looks messy, but to God it is a masterful mosaic worth finishing.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Second Chances
Sometimes I hate love. Sometimes it seems like an awfully mean trick or a cruel lesson that is never learned. . .
We don't get a second try at this thing called life. I wish we could've had a practice run or a crash course or something. We constantly face situations that we've never encountered before and we constantly make mistakes. What else can be expected of us? Everything is so clear in hindsight. I wish I had that sort of clarity in the present. Most days I feel like a rat in a maze, as if I'm part of God's science experiment. And I keep running into dead ends.
I've been struggling with the question of whether or not there is only one soul-mate for each of us. For me, that's always been more of a philosophical question, but now it's personal. The reason being, I have a gut-wrenching feeling that I let my soul-mate get away. I had my chance and now she's married to someone else. That's that. Forever. I keep replaying the past in my mind hoping to get back there and do things differently. I keep trying to remember what exactly was running through my mind back then. The problem is that our memories are so biased and clouded. I don't know if I'm replaying reality or not. Maybe, I wouldn't do things differently if I had it to do over again. But I feel like I really messed up God's plan for me. And now I'm left questioning whether God can bring along another soul-mate, a second chance. I'm trying to believe in the impossible, but the past continues to badger and bludgeon my hope. My heart literally aches, it hasn't ached like this in a long time. I'm trying to give it all to God because nursing these regrets seems very sinful and pointless and deadly.
I always feel like sad situations have worth if I learn something from them. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to learn from this. Sometimes, I get tired of learning lessons. But maybe, I'm supposed to learn what true love really looks like. I have a better idea now. And if by some miracle I see it again, I will recognize it and I won't let it get away this time. My only consolation is that I know that God sees the future, and that He knew that I would be in this very predicament. It's not a surprise to Him. So, I hope He has a back-up plan. I hope there is greater grace ahead, grace enough to quiet the past. What haunts me is that it is possible to miss out on blessings that God has for us. That's not a feel-good truth, but it is the truth nevertheless. With love comes freewill, and with freewill comes the freedom to live outside God's will. However, I wasn't trying to go against God's will. I was trying to wait. I was trying to be cautious out of reverence for God's will. But often my overly cautious nature results in gridlocked ambivalence. Sometimes, I fear that I am the servant in the parable who hid his talents and didn't take risks, because of his fear of God. God help me if that's the problem.
Fortunately, I believe in a big God, a God that turns bad things into good things. My prayer is that someone better will come along, someone better suited for me, someone that I'm better for. And I pray that I will look back and see that this whole thing was God's plan all along. And if I did miss true love, then I will dare to believe that He is still a God of second chances. Maybe, this is not a lesson in love after all, but a lesson in faith.
We don't get a second try at this thing called life. I wish we could've had a practice run or a crash course or something. We constantly face situations that we've never encountered before and we constantly make mistakes. What else can be expected of us? Everything is so clear in hindsight. I wish I had that sort of clarity in the present. Most days I feel like a rat in a maze, as if I'm part of God's science experiment. And I keep running into dead ends.
I've been struggling with the question of whether or not there is only one soul-mate for each of us. For me, that's always been more of a philosophical question, but now it's personal. The reason being, I have a gut-wrenching feeling that I let my soul-mate get away. I had my chance and now she's married to someone else. That's that. Forever. I keep replaying the past in my mind hoping to get back there and do things differently. I keep trying to remember what exactly was running through my mind back then. The problem is that our memories are so biased and clouded. I don't know if I'm replaying reality or not. Maybe, I wouldn't do things differently if I had it to do over again. But I feel like I really messed up God's plan for me. And now I'm left questioning whether God can bring along another soul-mate, a second chance. I'm trying to believe in the impossible, but the past continues to badger and bludgeon my hope. My heart literally aches, it hasn't ached like this in a long time. I'm trying to give it all to God because nursing these regrets seems very sinful and pointless and deadly.
I always feel like sad situations have worth if I learn something from them. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to learn from this. Sometimes, I get tired of learning lessons. But maybe, I'm supposed to learn what true love really looks like. I have a better idea now. And if by some miracle I see it again, I will recognize it and I won't let it get away this time. My only consolation is that I know that God sees the future, and that He knew that I would be in this very predicament. It's not a surprise to Him. So, I hope He has a back-up plan. I hope there is greater grace ahead, grace enough to quiet the past. What haunts me is that it is possible to miss out on blessings that God has for us. That's not a feel-good truth, but it is the truth nevertheless. With love comes freewill, and with freewill comes the freedom to live outside God's will. However, I wasn't trying to go against God's will. I was trying to wait. I was trying to be cautious out of reverence for God's will. But often my overly cautious nature results in gridlocked ambivalence. Sometimes, I fear that I am the servant in the parable who hid his talents and didn't take risks, because of his fear of God. God help me if that's the problem.
Fortunately, I believe in a big God, a God that turns bad things into good things. My prayer is that someone better will come along, someone better suited for me, someone that I'm better for. And I pray that I will look back and see that this whole thing was God's plan all along. And if I did miss true love, then I will dare to believe that He is still a God of second chances. Maybe, this is not a lesson in love after all, but a lesson in faith.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
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. . .
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. . .
Sunday, March 14, 2010
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.
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.
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