To Live is Christ

“Please note that if I die tonight in my sleep or tomorrow in a car accident or one day walking down the road, that it will not be a tragedy but an answered prayer.” I’ve said these words out loud to friends, more than once. I’ve written them in my journal. I created them and I’ve owned them. You see, I’m am not in the least bit afraid of dying. I am secure in my salvation. I know what glorious home awaits me on the other side of this world. I cannot wait to join in the corporate worship of Jesus. Forever. It’s life that I remain uncertain about.

I’ve struggled to process the news of Robin Williams’ death. Honestly, it being my first week back at work preparing for the new school year, I’ve kind of kept all my thoughts and feelings about it at a distance. But, last night I actually sat and discussed it with a friend and the aching in my heart flooded in. This morning, I sat on my bed and YouTubed Robin’s appearance on the Screen Actor’s Guild before my feet ever touched the ground. As I watched, I smiled and I cringed, I laughed and I cried. All this emotion because I see. I see what most people see; the funny, the genius, the quick wit, the bravery, the boldness, and so much more. But, I also see the man behind all that stage presence. I see the man who nervously avoided almost every question that was asked of him, the man who when he did answer a question, humbly honored the people in his life who had taught him and encouraged his talent, the man who longed for the roar of the crowd but probably much more for the validation and acceptance that can only be experienced in the quiet places, in the one on one, and who likely craved intimacy so deep that he probably felt like it would never be enough. Sometimes, I see people so much, I feel them. I identify with something about them so closely that I know what it feels like to be them, not in full but in part. This has a few times in my life allowed me to fall in love with people I have never met. Although I’ve loved him and his work all my life. . . today I fell in love with Robin Williams.

Timothy Keller is quoted as saying, “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear.” Sometimes when people bear a seemingly gregarious and attractive personality, they are also painfully aware that the dozens, hundreds, thousands of people who “love” them, don’t really know them at all. Who they love is this persona that is partially this energy that flows through them, either from a creative source - humor, talent - or from a spiritual source (in me, I think what people see is Jesus). The other part of this persona that people love, is what they want you to be for them. They project this trait on you that reflects a desire they wish you to fulfill for them and then they receive it back from you, without realizing you had little to nothing to do with the exchange. What people like Robin Williams (who I believe he was), and me fear most is that if the world really knew us, really knew the depths of our longings and the places we feel we have failed ourselves, others and God, perhaps it would be improbable that any of those people would still “love” us.

The paradox is that I truly and genuinely love people. (I can see that Robin Williams did, too) I really do not know how to half-heartedly love anyone. I want to know every part of the people in my life and I want to love them and accept them for all the imperfections that make them perfectly them. I love people’s laughs and I love their tears. I love people’s confidence and I love it when they can admit they have nothing left to hold on to but a little bit of borrowed faith. There is a friend that comes to mind. She has been daringly honest and transparent with me, so I feel like I know her well. I often tell her, thank you for being you. I absolutely and completely love every amazing and eclectic thing about her. Her accomplishments, her insecurities, her confidence and more so, the way her brow lifts when she’s not too sure if someone in the room is about to embarrass her. All the different parts of her make her uniquely her, and who she is, is precious. I don’t think I could love her any more than I do. This is the way I love most people.

Why is it then that I can love others so fully yet not believe that kind of love exists for me? I feel like I just confessed that I don’t truly believe that any of you love me. That you can’t possibly love me as well as I love you. It sounds so arrogant and prideful. I’m sorry. I feel extremely ungrateful that I can’t accept the love of God and the love of others and let it be enough. Some days the fact that I love each of you is sufficient. On those days, I can take what you give me and cherish it as the icing on the cake of life. Other days, when the waves of rejection and failure and hopelessness come crashing down, nothing seems satisfactory. The emptiness seems so deep that not only do I wonder if I will survive, I worry that if I ask anyone for help that I will bring them down with me.

“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” Philippians 1:21 I’ve been ruminating on this verse for awhile now. Of course, for someone who has professed their faith in Jesus, to die IS gain. Heaven is going to be awesome! No more sorrow, no more pain. Heavenly bodies. A seat at the banquet table (I imagine this to be a buffet of all the yummiest foods in the world). But what does. . . to live is Christ. . . mean exactly?

Earlier this year, I willed myself to internalize and believe a truth about God’s character. God is sovereign and trustworthy. I desperately needed to own that fact to endure what I was going through at the time. God is sovereign and trustworthy. I said it to myself several times a day, every day until I knew it to be true. I think about Jesus and how well He knew the Father. He knew His character and He knew His heart. Through His trust and obedience, Jesus honored God and together, through Jesus’ death on the cross, They loved the world into salvation. Perhaps, to choose life, to choose to live even when the darkness seems to be closing in, is to simply trust God to death.

What I think that means to me is that it is not my choice to make about when its my time to leave this earth and perhaps its not even wise for me to pray that it be soon. I have no intention of judging the hearts or minds of those who never had that revelation, I do wish their stories had ended differently, but I have to trust God even in that. The remainder of the Timothy Keller quote that I mentioned earlier goes like this. “To be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.” I’ve laid my heart out so that you may truly know me, and I commit to doing what needs to be done in order to accept the love in return.

Oh the Possibilities!

I know. I know. Its been way too long. Many of you have asked for an update but honestly I’ve spent the last 2 months just feeling quiet. Part of that may be the recoil from how exposed I felt after the last post, or the desire that wells up in me to buckle down and do things myself. But like I mentioned before, I feel like God has called you to be a part of this journey with me, so here we are. Let me pause and say thank you for your encouragement and prayers. The mass amount of accountability is scary but the support is nice.

Since veracity could very well be my middle name, let me confess that the last 8 weeks have not been filled with Richard Simmons excitement about exercise. In fact, I won’t even pretend that I have participated in some type of strenuous, muscle-engaging activity every day since the last time we talked. As enthusiastic as I was to be a new and improved person over night, that has not been the case. Most days I still don’t want to get up and get moving, but despite that fact, many days I still have. I do notice that on the days when physical activity is high, the desire for self-destructiveness is low. This physiological correlation between endorphin release and pain relief is the real deal. So I have to keep telling myself, just do it!

One of the major frustrations I have faced in my attempt to be more active, is the way my body starts to hurt in a not good way. I love, love, love me some Zumba. The music, the dancing, the sweating, the laughing - its all good stuff, except after every class my knees have screamed at me for mercy. My knees have literally taken a pounding for many years now under the pressure of my plus sized earth suit and they just don’t appreciate the 45 minutes of hopping, jumping, twisting and lunging. Frustrations like this one typically breed hopelessness in me. The all or nothing way that my brain works, says “this is impossible” and I start to believe that my physical me will never be different. But, a little over a week ago I was reminded that I am not on some ordinary adventure, I am on a mission with God. And with God. . . All things are possible.

Two Fridays ago I attended a healing conference in San Marcos. An awesome teacher and leader from Bethel church in California was speaking and I was interested in what he had to say. My full intention of attending this conference was to listen, discern and perhaps be equipped. I had no other expectations. Towards the end of the evening, there is a time for prayer, specifically, healing prayer. Members of the Bethel team stand up front and start calling out ailments, if you hear an ailment that you suffer from, you are to stand, and then when the time comes people in the audience (everyday people like me) are going to pray for each other. Headaches, broken bones that never healed correctly, nerve pain, backaches, irritable bowel syndrome, knee problems. . .knee problems? I think my knees actually straightened themselves so that I was suddenly standing involuntarily! The list continued and then it was time to pray. This sweet lady that I never met before came over and prayed for my knees. She would pray and I would test it out. “Feels a little better.” She would pray again and I would test it out again. “I think the left one feels good, but the right one still hurts.” She prayed again and I would test it. “They feel better. Yeah.” They did feel better but I wasn’t truly convinced. I know that sounds like I lack faith, but I’m just being honest. I thought they felt better but I just wasn’t sure.

As I walked to my car that night, as I walked up the stairs to my house, as I prepared for bed, I noticed that my knees really did not hurt. What!?!? I wasn’t familiar with these non-complaining knees. I went to bed that night thanking God for healed knees. I was going to claim the victory and refuse to listen to the skepticism in my brain. The next morning I was rushing around preparing for my grandpa’s 80th birthday party, I didn’t have time to really think about or process my still not-hurting knees except every time I stepped down steps or kneeled down to reach things I would laugh out loud as I remembered that my knees were healed and felt great. I was seriously in awe, kind of still am. What just happened? I mean, I believe in the bible and that the accounts recorded are true. I believe in miracles. I pray for others to be healed and believe that God can and will heal them. But, y’all, God healed my knees. This thing that was a road block on this trek with Him and He removed it. Just like that.

I am anxious to see what else God has in store. I know that this journey is not just a physical one. It began with an attempt to stop a physical manifestation of an emotional pain. Recently, I feel like God is highlighting the emotional, mental and soul-deep places He wants to heal. I’m ready.