Life is so much messier than I wish it were. I often find myself looking to the heavens and raising my fist, internally shouting something along the lines of "DEAR GOD, COULD YOU JUST GIVE ME A BOX WITH CLEAN LINES AND CLEAR RULES? I DO REALLY WELL IN BOXES, YOU KNOW. RULES MAKE LIFE EASIER, AND SOME WRITING IN THE SKY WOULD BE SUPER HELPFUL RIGHT ABOUT NOW." And then I'm reminded that He gave us a book and that at least two things in it are very clear: Love God. Love people. Problem is, people are messy. Relationships and friendships are messy and therefore dangerous, and a box with a bunch of rules is a lot more helpful because it's a lot less risky and therefore keeps the possibility of Hurt at bay. On a whim, I drove to Waco this weekend. I left Friday after class and made it back Saturday (almost) in time for work. After all these years, Waco is still where I am refreshed, recharged. My best friends in the world are there, and I usually hug them so hard their ribs bruise. Lane Perry is the best hugger of all. They call me JJ let me curl my hair in their bathroom and walk around with a mess of hair clipped on top of my head as I work to get it all done. They've seen me in my pajamas (like, all the time) and without makeup, and I've talked to them with morning breath. We've slept in cars and on couches; on the road and on floors; and when we're all reunited (for any amount of time), it's like All is Right In The World. When they saw my car parked outside on Friday, they left me a note with window paint... I was there for Convivium, and more than forty fellow thoughtful Christian college peers showed up at the boys' place and gathered around couches and in chairs for the first ever event. Oliver addressed the crowd: What is Convivium, you ask? Well, late one night the eight of us boys were sitting around in our huge apartment, and we asked ourselves "what are we going to do with our senior year? What will our Big Thing be?" And so we brainstormed. And this is what we decided. We know 3 things about ourselves: 1) We like to throw great parties and gather people together 2) We collectively have deep relationships and friendships with many great Baylor professors 3) We have a lot of good looking friends And so we decided the only sufficient solution would be to combine those three elements together under one roof. Tonight, we welcome our dearest Dr. Tran, professor of Theology and Bioethics, who will say a bunch of offensive things and subsequently lead a discussion on the trend of Republicans throwing their vote for Donald Trump and how it is possibly similar to the trend of intellectual Baylor Protestants converting to Roman Catholicism and turning toward Rome. After the party (and discussion) wound down a bit, an old friend caught my eye and we grabbed a couch and struck up conversation. I'll never forget the first words he said to me: "So. I've been thinking a lot lately. And here is what I've discovered. Knowing and Following Jesus is a lot of things. It is difficult and exhausting; joyous and peaceful; trying and truthful; it makes you feel loved and accepted and free, but it can also be really hard. The only thing it isn't is boring. Following Jesus Christ is anything but boring." We talked about a lot else, but those words struck me, and I've been thinking about them ever since. He's right, you know. I was lamenting to my (dearest, most wonderful) friend Justin on the phone today about how my life so often feels so confusing and messy and I wish the rules and future were more clear. "You know what that sort of life would be like, Jordan?" he said. "DAMN BORING." He's right, too. You know what's boring? A box with a bunch of rules. Since following Jesus ISN'T a box with a bunch of rules, it should never be boring. As Christians, though, we often draw a bunch of lines for ourselves. "Do this, don't do this; go here, don't go here; talk to this person, don't talk to this person..." and on and on and on and on. The rules and lines make us feel safe and comfortable. We find some rules (or things) that are Right and Good and True and we build a nice fence out of them. Then we gather some friend-sheep who like Our Fence and we start hanging out in Our Pasture, and we stare at our (wonderful) fence and think "man, what a damn good fence that is. She's a beaut!" And our neighbors. They've got a fence too, built of some other Right, Good, True things. But they're in the adjacent pasture, and they're too busy staring at their own beautiful fence to come hang out with the Sheep Next Door. Meanwhile, Jesus is meandering through all of the pastures, tending to all of the sheep, and attempting to lead us ALL TOWARD HIM. "Follow the Shepherd," He says. "Your fences are good; your rules aren't WRONG (they're good and right and true), but they're far less important than ME. They also aren't the only right, good, true fences, you know." Seth Haines said this, a few days ago: This morning, I'll drive the valley road, the eight miles that crosses the twin bridges, passes the Hunt ranch, shoots past Oxford Bend, and dips below the houses at Barrington. I'll pass A Full Gospel Church, a Nazarene meeting house, a congregation of Baptists, a Church of Christ, another Baptist congregation (Missionary, I think), and a Methodist meeting house. I'll pull into an Anglican church, and we'll practice Christianity the way we do, with scripture and sacrament, worship and after-worship donuts. And so the truth is: The Church is messy because we are messy. Life is messy because we are messy. Relationships are messy because we are messy. And Jesus looks down at all of us messy sinners and says: "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I DIED FOR YOU. COME TO ME AND I WILL GIVE YOU LIFE." And so, I'm learning to be Okay in the mess. I'm learning that Real Life is lived and birthed and exists in the muck and the mire and the grime and the filth. But the thing is that The Mess is never boring. It's a living, breathing, moving mess because it is made up of living, breathing, thinking, feeling, speaking, moving PEOPLE. In this atmosphere, Boring is an absolute impossibility. So. Take that quick trip to see (and surprise) your best friends. Hold someone's hand, in the midst of an impossibly difficult conversation, to say "I'm not going anywhere. You're a mess, and I'm staying right here. Because I'm a mess, too." Let life and friendships and relationships be complex and intense. Share (communicate!) your experiences and messiness with others, because I look around at everyone else's friendships and relationships and think "WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?! THEY'VE GOT IT ALL FIGURED OUT AND THEY DON'T SEEM TO FIND THINGS COMPLICATED IN THE LEAST!" But the truth is, everyone realizes (knows/feels) that friendships and relationships are messy and complicated and that emotions "get in the way" all the time, every time and that boundaries are healthy and good but then SOMETIMES THEY BREAK. We've all also learned that (as Justin says) "the world doesn't even end when they do." We can pick ourselves back up again. Hearts break--and they mend. Friendships end--and they begin. We fall--and we rise. Things are buried--and they resurrect. I don't mean here to discount the pain and hurt and sadness that are Huge Parts of real life. I only mean to say that THEY ARE NORMAL. They aren't something we need to fear or try to avoid or steer clear of. They also remind us that we are Humans and not robots--and that we are really living and not Being Boring. As you go, be free in Christ. I mean, really free. We must quit making our own rules and then breaking them and feeling terribly guilty and ashamed and subsequently being so filled with fear we become paralyzed. Our rules are okay--they are even good, most of the time--but our breaking of them does not necessitate an existential soul crisis. We can take a few deep breaths, remind ourselves that God is Bigger (but actually) and move forward. Maybe I'm writing this for myself--maybe I'm the only one who creates boxes with clean lines and then expects my life to follow suit and has a MENTAL CRISIS when life gets messy and I "hadn't planned on it being that way." Maybe I'm the only one who tries so hard to listen to all the well intentioned Christians telling me the Order of Things and the Correct Progression and How Things Are Supposed to Go and then GETS SUPER DISILLUSIONED when things don't go like they tell me they're supposed to. But on the off chance I'm not, I'll publish this post for all of you. If even one of you breathes a sigh of relief and thinks to yourself, "wait, so you're telling me I'm not alone?" then it was worth editing. And please, LIVE A LITTLE. Do you know how many things I've done "even though I'm strapped for cash"? Life is far, far too beautiful and brutal to be even a little bit boring. Put a flower on your dashboard and drive somewhere--to see the people you love the most. I hope they love you so much they never want you to leave...
0 Comments
Four years ago today, I opened the doors to my castle-home. To this day, on the 15th of every month, I change my contacts. Because on the 15th of September, 2011, I flew across the world and landed in London--and on that day, I began to see my entire life in a new light. And so, still, I mark the 15th of each month with new contacts--new Sight. And I mark the 24th with remembrance and nostalgia. Three years ago, I sat in a dull library at Baylor and wrote this reflection. At that time, I yet to make a single Baylor-friend. There's a pattern here--it takes me a very. long. time. to make friends in new places. And now here I am, at nursing school in Houston, and I can add "Baylor friends" to the list of "bible school friends" and "childhood friends" who will grace my wedding. Time is a beautiful thing. Friends are, too. One year ago today, I walked through that massive old English door with the much-too-heavy iron latch, and I had absolutely no idea what I was stepping into. My grandmother was there; that dear, sweet lady who had trekked through London with me for ten days–never complaining of swollen feet, never skipping a beat. Sure, she needed her nightly glass of wine, but I didn’t mind. We had walked and walked and walked. Seen every sight there was to see. Shopped til’ we dropped. Prettied ourselves up for musicals like Wicked and Mama Mia. Ate expensive granola from our favourite corner store and had too-much-pub-food-to-properly-stomach. We did London proud. And then there we were. Together, in my castle. In my new home. My. New. Home. Wow. She and others helped carry my suitcases (yes, there were four) up the grand staircase where the chandellier glowed overhead. I was the first to arrive in my room. Number 12. I’ll never forget it. Grandma hung my clothes and settled me in. I remember feeling so overwhelmed. Thinking “what have I gotten myself into?” Kind sonnets of “goodbyes” from home rang through my head. Things like: “You are going to have the time of your life!” Excited, I was. But nervous too. Nervous because I wasn’t really sure I wanted to make friends. I had planned on it just being me and God, ya know? Six months of quiet time with Him. Six months by myself…to read, write, pray, and learn. Six months without getting hurt; without putting my heart out there to risk getting broken; without relationships. Yes, that was the plan. Just me and God. No one was going to get in the way. This little heart of mine was bound up, closed-off, and boarded to the top. The brick wall was going to stand. Simple as that. …and then Amy arrived. The first of the roommates. I think I said a few words to her. Wasn’t really interested in becoming friends. I had better things to do. Remember that “me and God” stuff? Yeah, that. But my grandma was much kinder. She talked to Amy. (Gram loves to talk) And Amy would tell me later that my grandmother said more to her in those first few minutes than I did in the first few days. Silly me. The other roommates slowly trickled in. One, then two, then four; until there were seven of us in all. Seven. Seven Strangers who, over the course of 6 months, would become Seven Sisters. Seven Soul Sisters. Yes, I like that. The first days were like a blur. So many people. And oh, the names! Name after name after name. A new table every meal. New faces everywhere. New food. New, new, new. Two weeks went by. Then three. And soon, a month. I had made some acquaintances, but found myself quite often in my little corner of the room. Just me and God. Remember that? And then the story gets interesting… It seemed as quickly as I blinked, those seven strangers had become my friends. Oh, the joy! The movie nights and late-night talks of politics. The testimony-sharing and cake-in-a-bowl eating and peanut-butter-making. The hair-doing and clothes-wearing and back-rubbing. Seven Soul Sisters. That’s what we were. Christmas break found us leaving our sweet room 12 and embarking on new journeys. Upon our return, new rooms were assigned, and we didn’t see as much of each other as before. But our time in #12 was special, significant, heart-searing. Soul-worthy. Other friends came along and dragged me out of my cave. Annie and Jared and Grayson. Justin and Nathan and Eliana. Elyssa and Courtney and Kent. There were ten. And then came dancing and movie nights in the freezing ping-pong room and speaker-borrowing and canal-walking and tea-shopping. And movie-making, and adventure-taking, and river-crossing and cab-getting. We had our table…in the back corner. Yes, that table…it was special. Holding hands before each meal as we thanked our Heavenly Father for blessed friendships. Eating fat-making food together and strange desserts with glitter. Chasing sheep and wearing wellies. This was the life! Spring arrived, and goodbyes happened. They were hard, yes, but our spirits are entwined. The friendships go on… I travelled another three months and then went home. Well, went to a home; I have two now. But something had changed within me. All those well-wishers who sent me off with phrases of well-wishing were right. I had made friends. Real, true, Jesus-centred friends. I didn’t have to hole myself up in my cave so I could have six months of “Me-and-God time;” every day I interacted with God on a new and different level…. because those friends showed me more of the character of God than anyone ever had So it was me and God every day. All day. Me and God and me and God-in-them. As close to Heaven as I’ve ever been. Maybe this is what Heaven is. The Jesus-in-them freed me. Freed me to live, to truly live. Freed me from the pressures of disappointed expectations. Freed me to love with abandon. Freed me to be filled with the Holy Spirit. You know, when I left home, people had said, “taking a break between high school and college is a bad idea. Many kids end up never actually going back.” I had disregarded all the nay-sayers. I thought, “of course I’m going to college. What difference is a short break going to make?” But I am realizing they were right. After living a real-life fairy-tale for a year, college does not come easily. I feel almost as if that castle was it and now it’s time to be done. And then again, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t have to be 6,000 miles across the ocean to find out what it means to truly live. Maybe it wasn’t so much the Jesus around as the Jesus inside. That Jesus is still here. Right here. In my soul. And with His strength, studying here will be life-changing in other ways. Different, but still changing. My growing isn’t done; and I think I thought it was. I thought I figured it all out in the castle; the secret to life and love and joy and peace and fullness. But the secret wasn’t the place. The secret was the person. And where Jesus Christ is, that is where I find life in abundance. So today, I am nostalgic. Remembering an adventure that once-was and is no longer. From that, I have left only memories. Precious, timeless memories. A new adventure awaits. A new adventure has already begun. Yes, it’s a sleep-deprived, library-ridden, textbook-reading, flashcard-making, lecture-listening adventure, but an adventure nonetheless. When I think about my wedding (which is more often than I should,) I smile because there, my worlds will collide for the first time. The castle-people will be there, and these college-people will be there, and the childhood-people will be there, and everyone in-between will be there. Well, that’s the dream. And while it might not become a reality at mine, it will become a reality at His. One day, the Bridegroom and the Bride will walk hand-in-hand. And we’ll all be there. Together, again. In the most beautiful reunion since the dawn of Creation. I can only imagine. {original post found here} ...and here's a little compilation of our six months of nightly post-dinner dancing in the gym--some of my life's fondest memories. Dancing is one of the "places" I feel most loved. Around a campfire...or on a friend's couch...are others. <3 |
hey, i'm jordan.wife to one, mama to four, bible-believing christian. Archives
November 2022
Categories
All
|