what i've been up to
It has been a while since i've blogged. I've been pretty busy. I've been fasting and playing and studying and piping and eating pizza and drinking tea and painting and moving and shopping and staffing a retreat and having long lovely talks and steaming in the heat. But more than anything, I've been thinking.
I've been thinking a lot about a lot of things. About life and God and hope and hoplessness. About idealism and despair and foolishness and wisdom and what is real and what is fake. Religion and love. The future and the past. I've had mad thoughts, happy thoughts, sad thoughts, hopeful thoughts.
Basically, there has been a lot happening in the Lindsey skull.
Right now, I'm typing from the matress on the floor of my new room with green walls and green plants and a green cup of green tea. The matress is naked and purple with journals strewn about on top of it and a blue afghan crocheted by my grammie. Badly Drawn Boy is playing on the boom box I got in fifth grade that sits in the corner. The song is really perfect, actually. "I don't know how to hide and keep my shadow alive...I don't know how to tell if it's heaven or hell that I'll be going to, just as long as I'm there with you."
There are a lot of things I don't know. There are a lot of things that confuse me. Frustrate me. Religion frustrates me. It frustrates me to listen to a pastor pray and hear nothing real or true in his voice- to hear a preformance, not a prayer. I just wish people would start being real. I wish we would stop playing these stupid games and just say it as it is. I was with a pastor this weekend who did not stop preforming- not for one second. Not when he was walking down the hallway. Not when he was up in the pulpit. Every time I saw him, I got so frustrated. I wanted to pull him aside and shake him and ask him what was going through his head and what he hoped and feared and worried about. Who he WAS. I just think the world would be so much sweeter if we were all a little more honest with one another. And, if nothing else, a little more honest with ourselves.
Another thing I don't understand: God. I've been wrestling with Him a lot lately. I have this one teacher who is really wonderful and really real. He and I were talking about God one evening on State Street when the city was all lit up and bright. He said something that I found very profound out there on the street, it went something like this, "A lot of people think I don't believe in God because of science. That's not true. I don't believe in God because, if He's there, He's never revealed Himself to me. A lot of Christians make it seem like you have to seek God and make Him turn His face to you. But look at Paul. He was out slaughtering Christians and then God blinded Him and Paul believed. God would know that if He'd reveal Himself like that to me, I'd be there in a second. Maybe someday I'll wake up blind, but until then..."
I remember talking with God as I walked home on the dark streets. "God, what....why...?" I said. "I'm already working in him, Lindsey. Don't fret." "But, God...I..." "I know. Me too." "But, can't You...?" "I'm already at work, Lindsey. Don't worry." "Okay."
And it was okay then, but I kept thinking about it. And it made me sad and it made me frustrated with God. He blinded Paul. Why can't He just blind everyone else? Because I know God, I know Him. And I know that He loves us, and I KNOW that He wants us to know Him. He is the only hope in the world and He wants to give us that and so much more. So why doesn't He encounter us all? Why doesn't He shake us until we see Him? I didn't understand. I don't.
It confused me very much, and I spent heeps of time scribbling and painting about it: about this, about religion, about the sad things I see in people's hearts these days that make me ache. It frustrated me, the whole thing, the whole state of the universe. I didn't understand. I was confused. I am confused.
And then I opened up my beloved e.e. cummings book to his poem, "i am a little church(" The last line struck a chord with me that it never has before.
winter by spring, i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever;
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)
There are a lot of things I don't understand. There are a lot of things that confuse me. A lot of things that make me frustrated and sad. There is so much that I do not know. But there is one thing I do know. I know God. And I will follow him, even if I don't understand. Because I love Him. So much.
(he is our only hope, you know. we need hope more than oxygen.)