Say goodbye, say goodbye to the girl next door
She don’t exist, she’s only in your head.
Say hello, say hello as you’re walking out the door
To yourself and to your past, they don’t exist anymore.
- Say Goodbye, Jeremy Junkin
"When I dwell with you, I do so in the present—I live in the present. Not that past, although much can be remembered and learned by looking back, but only for a visit, not an extended stay… [Imagining the future] is your desperate attempt to get some control over something you can’t. It is impossible for you to take power over the future because it isn’t even real, nor will it ever be real." - Jesus, in William P. Young's "The Shack"
If you and I haven’t met up or spoken for over a year, please don’t treat me like nothing has changed. Sometimes I think we hold back from being ourselves to keep up appearances. Making small talk can be one of the most dangerous things that old friends do. Instead of pretending that things are as they were we must remember that the past doesn’t exist and should only be visited for a short time. Yes, old friends need to catch each other up, but in such a way that gives dignity to both. If it’s been a year, assume I am someone you don’t know anymore, and ask me even the most basic questions. You may be surprised by what you find out.
I can feel Deep calling to deep. I can’t explain it. It keeps me up at night, my legs restless to walk out into the dark to find it. The most sacred places in the world are calling my name. They tell me to come, take off my sandals and kneel on holy ground. My innermost being wants an escape from mundane suburban life. If it means that I have to take those vows to find fulfillment, I will do that. You may not agree with everything about my religion, and not even do I understand its institutionalization. Look at me and how I practice. I just want grace, and I know where to find it. I eat the bread, I drink the cup, and I am satisfied. It is now that I see that nothing but full devotion will make sense to me. When my deep answers the Call of the Deep I will be in the world, serving the world—a bondservant to Our Father because of my vows.
I am almost ready to say goodbye.
5.31.2009
5.27.2009
Show me what I'm looking for.
In the silence, I meet lust. Not because I wanted him to be there, just because it was quiet enough for him to come out; my Tempter—always waiting for that moment when my focus is off.
Grace, redemption, and faithful and true love are evident in the Mysterious One. Through him I moved forward in understanding what the Kingdom of God is like. I have to share this story with you in its most pure and intimate form to help you understand. There’s something you must know about Our Father.
If the Mysterious One only knew what he was doing that morning was so easily turned into my temptation. He laid there on the couch, shirtless, rubbing his stomach so sensually. He laid there reading, playing with his navel, not taking any notice that I was watching. I could have continued to sit there watching, dreaming, lusting, and even getting angry at his tempting me. I struggled enough with him as it was. I had to leave. I had to leave and be angry for awhile—at him, at myself, at my Tempter.
“We need silence in our lives. We even desire it. But when we enter into silence we encounter a lot of inner noises, often so disturbing that a busy and distracting life seems preferable to a time of silence. Two disturbing ‘noises’ present themselves quickly in our silence: the noise of lust and the noise of anger. Lust reveals our many unsatisfied needs, anger, or many unresolved relationships. But lust and anger are very hard to face.
“What are we to do? Jesus says, ‘Go and learn the meaning of the words: Mercy is what pleases me, not sacrifice’ (Matthew 9:13). Sacrifice here means ‘offering up,’ ‘cutting out,’ ‘burning away,’ or ‘killing.’ We shouldn’t do that with our lust and anger. It simply won’t work. But we can be merciful toward our own noisy selves and turn these enemies into friends.” –Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey
As I learned to befriend my emotions that day I found that I could be merciful to myself, but also that others had mercy to offer me, including the Mysterious One. The Mysterious One, recognizing his own death, has allowed himself to say what Our Father would have him say, to do what Our Father would have him do, and even to be silent when Our Father would have him do so. That night Our Father had the Mysterious One give me all the love and affection I needed to redeem the day. Just when I thought that the Mysterious One was my tempter, I realized that Our Father had greater power than my Tempter.
In the silence, in the stillness, I must not be afraid to ask Our Father to show me what I’m looking for.
Grace, redemption, and faithful and true love are evident in the Mysterious One. Through him I moved forward in understanding what the Kingdom of God is like. I have to share this story with you in its most pure and intimate form to help you understand. There’s something you must know about Our Father.
If the Mysterious One only knew what he was doing that morning was so easily turned into my temptation. He laid there on the couch, shirtless, rubbing his stomach so sensually. He laid there reading, playing with his navel, not taking any notice that I was watching. I could have continued to sit there watching, dreaming, lusting, and even getting angry at his tempting me. I struggled enough with him as it was. I had to leave. I had to leave and be angry for awhile—at him, at myself, at my Tempter.
“We need silence in our lives. We even desire it. But when we enter into silence we encounter a lot of inner noises, often so disturbing that a busy and distracting life seems preferable to a time of silence. Two disturbing ‘noises’ present themselves quickly in our silence: the noise of lust and the noise of anger. Lust reveals our many unsatisfied needs, anger, or many unresolved relationships. But lust and anger are very hard to face.
“What are we to do? Jesus says, ‘Go and learn the meaning of the words: Mercy is what pleases me, not sacrifice’ (Matthew 9:13). Sacrifice here means ‘offering up,’ ‘cutting out,’ ‘burning away,’ or ‘killing.’ We shouldn’t do that with our lust and anger. It simply won’t work. But we can be merciful toward our own noisy selves and turn these enemies into friends.” –Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey
As I learned to befriend my emotions that day I found that I could be merciful to myself, but also that others had mercy to offer me, including the Mysterious One. The Mysterious One, recognizing his own death, has allowed himself to say what Our Father would have him say, to do what Our Father would have him do, and even to be silent when Our Father would have him do so. That night Our Father had the Mysterious One give me all the love and affection I needed to redeem the day. Just when I thought that the Mysterious One was my tempter, I realized that Our Father had greater power than my Tempter.
In the silence, in the stillness, I must not be afraid to ask Our Father to show me what I’m looking for.
5.26.2009
A Mother's Love
When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, “Let it be.” And in my hour of darkness She is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, “Let it be.”
Sometimes I forget what a mother’s love is like. I haven’t received love from my mother in almost five years now. I’ve received love from other mothers and mother figures, but it will never be the same as the love that my mother had to give. And I will never be able to give love in a way that a mother can. While I do hope to raise children someday, I can only show them the love of a father. Because of the absence of motherly love in my life, this love is such a mystery to me, but I think I know where to find it.
Mary is the Mother Love of God personified. She is the Chosen One, full of grace, obedience, compassion, and tenderness, abounding in love for the Son she was chosen to raise. And she has done much more than that. She has raised sons and daughters alike throughout the generations, and has fought on behalf of her children during times of trouble. She teaches us to live at peace with everyone, reminding us to take life for what it is and accept what the Father gives us.
Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruitof thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death.
Amen.
Sometimes I forget what a mother’s love is like. I haven’t received love from my mother in almost five years now. I’ve received love from other mothers and mother figures, but it will never be the same as the love that my mother had to give. And I will never be able to give love in a way that a mother can. While I do hope to raise children someday, I can only show them the love of a father. Because of the absence of motherly love in my life, this love is such a mystery to me, but I think I know where to find it.
Mary is the Mother Love of God personified. She is the Chosen One, full of grace, obedience, compassion, and tenderness, abounding in love for the Son she was chosen to raise. And she has done much more than that. She has raised sons and daughters alike throughout the generations, and has fought on behalf of her children during times of trouble. She teaches us to live at peace with everyone, reminding us to take life for what it is and accept what the Father gives us.
Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruitof thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death.
Amen.
5.22.2009
Legacy
Remember that night at the end of December. Remember that it was on that night that I took a look back at who I was, feeling the pain of the past and looking forward to a future where freedom could be experienced. Remember what freedom looked like back then; it looked like anarchy. No rules. No consequences. Life could never be that simple.
As the last five months have played out, that night in December has found new meaning. For some, telling them about that night has changed their view of me. For others, that night is one of many that they know I’ve struggled through. They know that if God miraculously took away my pain I wouldn’t learn about grace, love, and redemption. They know that night is about truth and coming to grips with who I am. On that night I was unprepared for Africa. Now I find myself somehow prepared for anything.
You make a harsh mistake if you believe I deserve no sympathy because of that night, or because of any one night. Granted, you are the only one who can grant me sympathy, and if you don’t let me know how you feel it will never affect me. You still haven’t told me what sympathy I deserve, after all these weeks. What do you believe I have to show for these last five months of life? What will be my legacy of 2009?
I think I told them everything tonight. I talked so much my mouth became dry. They deserved to know as much as you deserve to know. They listened, and that is all I ask you to do. Listen, don’t talk; don’t interrupt. Wait for me to finish. You will get your turn. I can’t tell you all at once either. One or two at a time, please. I sometimes wonder why I even attempt such daring feats.
When all is said and done, perhaps today or tomorrow, you may never get the chance to decide my fate. You may never tell me what you think of me or how my life has impacted you. And should you do this? Or do we let our impending deaths separate us forever and let words go unsaid? But wait, I am already dead, and you may be too. It depends.
What is your religion?
As the last five months have played out, that night in December has found new meaning. For some, telling them about that night has changed their view of me. For others, that night is one of many that they know I’ve struggled through. They know that if God miraculously took away my pain I wouldn’t learn about grace, love, and redemption. They know that night is about truth and coming to grips with who I am. On that night I was unprepared for Africa. Now I find myself somehow prepared for anything.
You make a harsh mistake if you believe I deserve no sympathy because of that night, or because of any one night. Granted, you are the only one who can grant me sympathy, and if you don’t let me know how you feel it will never affect me. You still haven’t told me what sympathy I deserve, after all these weeks. What do you believe I have to show for these last five months of life? What will be my legacy of 2009?
I think I told them everything tonight. I talked so much my mouth became dry. They deserved to know as much as you deserve to know. They listened, and that is all I ask you to do. Listen, don’t talk; don’t interrupt. Wait for me to finish. You will get your turn. I can’t tell you all at once either. One or two at a time, please. I sometimes wonder why I even attempt such daring feats.
When all is said and done, perhaps today or tomorrow, you may never get the chance to decide my fate. You may never tell me what you think of me or how my life has impacted you. And should you do this? Or do we let our impending deaths separate us forever and let words go unsaid? But wait, I am already dead, and you may be too. It depends.
What is your religion?
5.21.2009
Enchanted
We’ve been asking the questions for some time now. What is real? What is the truth? What are we supposed to believe? We still don’t have the answers, but we are searching.
When trying to live a spiritual life we must all ask ourselves how present God is in our lives. Is God still lurking in the everyday? Or has God been so far removed from today that it takes quite a search to find the Holy Mystery? Is our world still enchanted?
I live in a world that is full of Holy Mystery—a world where God is everywhere and grace is everywhere. Everything from my rising in the morning to my lying down to bed at night is an act of grace bestowed upon me. I am truly humbled to be living in light of that wonderful grace.
Do you live in the same world as I? How enchanted is your world?
When trying to live a spiritual life we must all ask ourselves how present God is in our lives. Is God still lurking in the everyday? Or has God been so far removed from today that it takes quite a search to find the Holy Mystery? Is our world still enchanted?
I live in a world that is full of Holy Mystery—a world where God is everywhere and grace is everywhere. Everything from my rising in the morning to my lying down to bed at night is an act of grace bestowed upon me. I am truly humbled to be living in light of that wonderful grace.
Do you live in the same world as I? How enchanted is your world?
5.18.2009
Remain cheerful.
Dear Mysterious One,
You told me that I could be anything I want to be when I asked if I could be fearless. You said I had to leave the secrecy and deceptiveness behind. You told me to remain courageous in the honesty that I value so dearly. You said to use unambiguous language: “Say what you need to say.” You told me to remain cheerful.
Mysterious One, the truth is that I am marked. You and I both are marked. We have markings that link us and markings from different places and times. The markings that link us are the most on my mind these days.
Know this: Africa is not done with me yet. Lately I find myself lost in dreams of a future in Africa, a different Africa from the one we know but Africa very much the same. Africa hasn’t changed much since the beginning of time and I don’t expect a great difference in my lifetime. I have been reading, writing, meditating and working to find my center, a place that I buried long ago and often hide from when faced with the many social pressures of life. As I do this, Africa calls deeper and my soul groans back with hunger pains for the remainder of an experience cut short. I cannot get those last weeks back, and I would never want to, for I grew so much more on American soil, or so it seems. But I must answer this call. I must answer this call to be true to myself. I must answer this call to find my religion. I must answer this call because it is my destiny. And I find that answering the call means so many different things. It means learning to forgive and still remember. It means reading about Africa through novels, essays, and research, soaking up every piece of information I can. It means looking ahead in my life to a place and time in which I can go back to the Dark Continent and somehow walk forward into the light. It means having a willingness to learn and love above all else.
And how am I supposed to be dealing with Our Father? It seems I don’t have much of a religion these days. I don’t know how to follow Our Father religiously. To me it seems that my life, His Will, just falls into place. That is what I can remain cheerful about.
You told me that I could be anything I want to be when I asked if I could be fearless. You said I had to leave the secrecy and deceptiveness behind. You told me to remain courageous in the honesty that I value so dearly. You said to use unambiguous language: “Say what you need to say.” You told me to remain cheerful.
Mysterious One, the truth is that I am marked. You and I both are marked. We have markings that link us and markings from different places and times. The markings that link us are the most on my mind these days.
Know this: Africa is not done with me yet. Lately I find myself lost in dreams of a future in Africa, a different Africa from the one we know but Africa very much the same. Africa hasn’t changed much since the beginning of time and I don’t expect a great difference in my lifetime. I have been reading, writing, meditating and working to find my center, a place that I buried long ago and often hide from when faced with the many social pressures of life. As I do this, Africa calls deeper and my soul groans back with hunger pains for the remainder of an experience cut short. I cannot get those last weeks back, and I would never want to, for I grew so much more on American soil, or so it seems. But I must answer this call. I must answer this call to be true to myself. I must answer this call to find my religion. I must answer this call because it is my destiny. And I find that answering the call means so many different things. It means learning to forgive and still remember. It means reading about Africa through novels, essays, and research, soaking up every piece of information I can. It means looking ahead in my life to a place and time in which I can go back to the Dark Continent and somehow walk forward into the light. It means having a willingness to learn and love above all else.
And how am I supposed to be dealing with Our Father? It seems I don’t have much of a religion these days. I don’t know how to follow Our Father religiously. To me it seems that my life, His Will, just falls into place. That is what I can remain cheerful about.
5.17.2009
Exodus
Sometimes in life we are called to leave a place or a state of being for the freedom that waits on the other side. The journey is the Exodus and the other side is the Promised Land.
The route by which I escaped Africa was a forced exodus, by men and women seeking their own interests in maintaining the reputation and integrity of an institution. They said that coming home would be easier because life in Africa was difficult. The goal was to move on and find some sort of freedom of living in a more comfortable land. I have not found that freedom, and Africa is a part of my center. It didn’t die with the Exodus. In fact, the Exodus made me realize that Africa had become home.
Some have tried to get me to make another Exodus, to abandon a part of my identity because it is controversial. What they don’t understand is that I can never escape my identity and the man I’ve developed into. I’ve learned that this kind of Exodus is deemed unethical by the profession in which I am entering, and I respect that perspective. I can understand the difficulties that some have with combining their religious ethics with those ethics set up by professional disciplines, but it’s an open-mindedness that allows us to be more realistic about the world we live in. What is religion anyway? How much longer will religion survive?
“I could never work out whether we were to view religion as a life-insurance policy or a life sentence.” –Orleanna Price, Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible
“Religions commit suicide when they find their inspiration in dogma.” –Alfred North Whitehead
The story of life is the story of many exoduses and the freedom that is found beyond the journey. But which is more important, the journey or the destination? Remember, the Promised Land is unfamiliar territory to most.
I do suppose I need a religion. The people I respect the most have one, and they still suffer. Maybe religion is suffering. Maybe Love is suffering. Maybe Freedom doesn’t come without suffering. In searching for a religion, I’ll start with this: Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27.
The route by which I escaped Africa was a forced exodus, by men and women seeking their own interests in maintaining the reputation and integrity of an institution. They said that coming home would be easier because life in Africa was difficult. The goal was to move on and find some sort of freedom of living in a more comfortable land. I have not found that freedom, and Africa is a part of my center. It didn’t die with the Exodus. In fact, the Exodus made me realize that Africa had become home.
Some have tried to get me to make another Exodus, to abandon a part of my identity because it is controversial. What they don’t understand is that I can never escape my identity and the man I’ve developed into. I’ve learned that this kind of Exodus is deemed unethical by the profession in which I am entering, and I respect that perspective. I can understand the difficulties that some have with combining their religious ethics with those ethics set up by professional disciplines, but it’s an open-mindedness that allows us to be more realistic about the world we live in. What is religion anyway? How much longer will religion survive?
“I could never work out whether we were to view religion as a life-insurance policy or a life sentence.” –Orleanna Price, Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible
“Religions commit suicide when they find their inspiration in dogma.” –Alfred North Whitehead
The story of life is the story of many exoduses and the freedom that is found beyond the journey. But which is more important, the journey or the destination? Remember, the Promised Land is unfamiliar territory to most.
I do suppose I need a religion. The people I respect the most have one, and they still suffer. Maybe religion is suffering. Maybe Love is suffering. Maybe Freedom doesn’t come without suffering. In searching for a religion, I’ll start with this: Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27.
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