Thursday, November 20, 2008

I am a Liar, but there is no Lying in Heaven.

I recently found out about a lie that was told about my husband in effort to proverbially save someone else's butt. I was sufficiently annoyed. I wanted to set the record straight.
My husband said no. After a short conversation, I realized that my annoyance was mostly related to pride.

Because I understand lying. I often lie when I am asked if I need help because I don't want to be a burden to someone else. I lie when Tim asks me what's wrong because I don't want to be a burden to him. (But I am a terrible liar, and he doesn't let me get away with it.) And lying always does the opposite of what I actually want- it works towards creating a wedge in the community I desire and encourages isolation- even when I "mean well."

The truth is, I desire community and true love, but those things are awkward. They look perfect and smooth in the books and the songs, but that is a false representation. I feel awkward when I accept help, I feel awkward when I am in the beginning (and middle!) stages of building relationships. I feel angry, disappointed, and sad to the point of (many) tears. But even while I am experiencing discouragement (which is often, because I desire to continue moving forward, and with new ground comes many unforeseen potholes, hills, and turns), I have the feeling that I am living in the middle of something beautiful. Just because I see beautiful things every day. Like the students that are thinking through the messages they are hearing for themselves and asking questions. Like the kids at the Community Center who, after nearly three months, are beginning to understand that I care about them and respond to that. Like the relationships with my kids and "Tim's" family (they're mine, too!) that are deepening. Like the encouragement that I periodically receive that maybe I'm doing ok, and I should just keep truckin'.

Things feel very bittersweet at the moment. But it's hard to imagine not always feeling that way to some degree. There are things that pull me down. Like the unloving actions of the church, the fact that orphans are treated as a last resort, the fact that people treat other people like objects. Like all the pain and suffering and misunderstanding and selfishness. But the sweet part comes because in the middle of it all, God still walks. He cares, he loves, and he is so much more heartbroken than I am. And it just.makes.me.long.for.heaven. Which is fine. Because it's such a reminder to put myself aside for a little while and live like I am part of the kingdom of God.

2 comments:

Timothy said...

"I should just keep on truckin"

who is giving you that advice? Truckers from the 70's?

:-)

katie said...

so...I really like your writing style and the fleshiness of what you wrote about; it's real.