*facebook pic of my friend's bright blue eye*
Girl: Wow, your eye is beautiful!
Friend: They are only truly beautiful when they are on Jesus. :)
The worst part is... I bet she really means it. But my first response is, "Ugh. Okay, whatever."
It's not that I don't believe in God. It's not even that I don't love Him. (I want to, and I try, but I'm not sure that what I have to offer counts as love.) I'm just burnt out on christianityism. You know... looking and acting and sounding "christian". Maybe it's more pronounced because I come from a denomination that urges its members to "be separate from the world"... and as a result you end up with a whole culture in and of itself. The particular subculture I found myself in prides itself on its ability to deflect any statement of personal worth and value.
"You did a good job." "Oh, praise the Lord!"
"You look nice today." "Praise God."
"You're a good person. That was very nice of you." "It's only because of Jesus."
Just take the stinking compliment, already!!!
*End Rant*
That being said, I have been reflecting this morning on how risky love is.
My cat is limping very pronouncedly. (This is related, I promise.) I can tell he's hurting. But I already took him to the vet for this once, and they couldn't find a problem. Now, the limp is worse (I've been watching it for some time), and I feel like I'm being stabbed through the heart when I watch him make his pitiful way towards me. I don't care how little I have in savings. I'll spend it all, even if I have to skip my trip to Az, to make sure my cat is healthy.
The thing is, Juneaux is more than a cat to me... he's my son. My baby boy. Flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone. Sure, we speak different languages. Sure, he's a lot hairier than I am. Sure, we're different species. But God brought him to me when I was so hurting and broken... so doubting of the nature of love... so unsure whether it was even worth trying this "love" thing with God...
And then I found Juneaux. He has been my delight, my comfort, my laughter, my satisfaction... he's been there for basically my entire healing process. His antics bring me joy. His purring and kneading soothe my soul. (It is, after all, nice to be kneaded. Hah!) He's... a part of me.
So now, I find my son in pain, and it hurts me. I want to make him better. (I'll be calling the vet as soon as I'm done here-- they've just opened.)
And I'm scared. What if this is a sign of something bigger wrong with him? What if he just gets worse and worse? What if they can't figure out what's wrong with him? What if he.... dies?
I read a statement by a fellow Christian recently. It said, "Whatever you fear the most will inevitably come to pass."
What a crappy outlook on life. But I'm afraid it's true. (Hah. Afraid it's true... so if it is, it would inevitably be true simply because I'm afraid it is true, and... never mind.) So I'm begging God to let me keep my cat. Just the thought of losing him is torturous.
And so I see what a precarious place love is. With love comes need. It necessitates risk. What if this, what if that? What if the loved one chooses not to love back?
I think of this as I see a potential relationship in front of me. If this thing moves forward... if love grows... it will involve risk. Any relationship that entails love is risky.
C and I took that risk... and I walked away. It shattered both of us, but it had to be done.
I think of this as I look at God. He says he loves us. He says he loves me. This puts him in a position of risk. If he loves me, and I walk away... it is painful. To both of us. I may not realize the pain as swiftly and keenly (it has a way of spreading itself out and seeping through the different aspects of life), but we both hurt.
Does God see me the same way that I see Juneaux? Feeling the weight of my pain in his chest, wanting to make it better... if only I will let him... and doing everything he can to make sure that I won't walk away, because he doesn't want me to... ??
Sounds awesome. God, are you really like that? Is that how you feel about me?
0 thoughts: