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.