What to do next?

As my time runs out, and I'm going to have to go to church, the question is "What to do next?"


How do I get out of this place?


I'll let you know when the answer comes....

Remind Me Who I Am

When I lose my way
And I forget my name
Remind me who I am
In the mirror all I see
Is who I don’t want to be
Remind me who I am
In the loneliest places
When I can’t remember what grace is
Tell me once again
Who I am to you, who I am to you
Tell me lest I forget
Who I am to you, that I belong to you
When my heart is like a stone
And I’m running far from home
Remind me who I am
When I can’t receive your love
Afraid I’ll never be enough
Remind me who I am
If I’m your beloved
Can you help me believe it?
I’m the one you love
I’m the one you love
And that will be enough
I’m the one you love


by Jason Gray and Jason Ingram

Pathologies

I am sitting here in my bed fully dressed for church, but I skipped Sunday School since I was a few minutes late to catch my usual ride with my in-laws and didn't really want to go anyway of course, and I'm tempted to skip church too.

I am (re)learning about myself that I have a tendency to simmer and brood. I have had that trait for quite a long time, but it seems to have periods where it gets less pervasive, and times like now where it seems I find myself in "one of my moods" nearly every day.

Like the Jason Gray lyric, I don't really like people. I only want to be close to a few people, and I keep mentally shrinking even my short list and drawing back from people, trying, it seems, to get the point where I only have to put up with myself. Like an angsty teenager, I find that no one understands... I am caught inside my own head, testing different ideas, questioning every facet of my life, despairing that I will never find the balance for my personality or my identity, that I will never figure out who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. Even with the people in the small circle, I cannot quite articulate what's plaguing my mind; I can't even quite sort it out myself.

So the last thing I want to do is go to happy-slappy church and same-ol'-same-ol' Sunday School, where I do nothing more than sit and stew inside, simultaneously weighing a dozen ideas in response to what has been said, finding myself more and more lost and confused the more people try to tell me what the answers are, where I try to avoid conversations more often than I successfully put on my smiley good attitude of actually wanting to get to know people and put effort into being part of community (which is an attitude I really do want to have but usually just have to try to fake because, after all, I don't really like people at all, and I'd rather hide by the lobster tank...)

Here's the heart of what I'm feeling. (Again, thank you for the words, Jason Gray.)

Jesus is speaking But it’s so hard to hear When disciples with swords Are cutting off ears Broken and bleeding I’m waiting for healing to come.

That is my excuse for avoiding church and church people. The loudest voices there are of disciples with swords or of disciples, at the best, who are unarmed but also unintelligible to me, seeming to murmur what they think are the words of Jesus, but, to me, it's just confusing and muffling and getting in the way... I can't hear Jesus speaking, and I'm despairing, more and more sure all the time that I'm not going to be able to hear him where I am.

But then, the excuse melts away to reveal the deeper malfunctions of my heart and mind:

But wounded is a part I’ve learned to play well Though the wound may run deeper Than I know how to tell Where pain’s an addiction That keeps me buried alive But when it’s all that I know I’m afraid to leave it behind 

I'm getting too good at being wounded. I am addicted to my pain. A goofy story in a 6th grade workbook I was reading earlier this week centered around the expression "Dramatic things happen to dramatic people," and I just keep thinking how much that's my problem. It's more like "Wounds happen to wounded people" in this context or "Confusion plagues the person who looks for confusion." Jason Gray also says in this song

It’s not like I’m trying To be optimistic If the truth be told I’d rather dismiss it And be free of the burden Of the living that hoping requires.

It's truly like I want it all to be proven useless, a crutch for the weak, something people use to make them feel better about their meaningless lives, so I can "dismiss it and be free of the burden of the living that hoping requires." What a messed up addiction to pain. But it's true. Hope requires an attitude and a way of living more strenuous, more full of responsibility. It requires love and fearlessness, facing people, facing life for what it is, it requires me

To bring my heart To every day And to run the risk of fearlessly loving WITHOUT RUNNING AWAY.

I'm seeing more and more what my pathologies are...

Now to overcome them...

Why (besides running late, which isn't an excuse because I could have made it) I Am Not in Sunday School Right Now

There's something I need to confess
At the risk of exposing my faults
But I'm starting to find that most of the time
I just don't like people at all
When I saw you five minutes ago
I was afraid you might talk off my ear
I panicked inside and decided to hide
And that's how I ended up here
Crouching behind the live lobster tank
Hoping you'd just pass me by, oh...
That's how I ended up here
That's how I ended up here
Oh how I wish I could say
It's my first time to hide in this spot
But with all of the people I try to avoid
I find myself down here a lot
I mean, just look at these guys in the tank
With the red rubber bands 'round their arms
If they don't open up 
And just keep to themselves
They won't do anyone harm
So I screen my calls,
don't answer the door
Sometimes wish I could disappear,
oh...That's how I ended up here
That's how I ended up ..
Building a wall so no one could bother me
Living my life in isolation
Opening up to only those close to me
Nobody's close to me, what have I done?
See, I really want to be known
But I'm not quite as strong as the fear
That you won't understand the fool that I am
And that's how I ended up here
That's how I ended up here
That's how I ended up here


"How I Ended Up Here" by Jason  Gray and Andy Gullahorn

Without Running Away by Jason Gray

I’ve spent some days looking 

For a length of rope 

And a place to hang it 

From the end of my hope 

But where I thought hope had ended 

I always find a little bit more 

It’s not like I’m trying 

To be optimistic 

If the truth be told 

I’d rather dismiss it 

And be free of the burden 

Of the living that hoping requires 

To bring my heart 

To every day 

And to run the risk of fearlessly loving 

WITHOUT RUNNING AWAY

Jesus is speaking 

But it’s so hard to hear 

When disciples with swords 

Are cutting off ears 

Broken and bleeding I’m waiting for healing to come 

But wounded is a part 

I’ve learned to play well 

Though the wound may run deeper 

Than I know how to tell 

Where pain’s an addiction 

That keeps me buried alive 

But when it’s all that I know

 I’m afraid to leave it behind 

To bring my heart 

To every day 

And to run the risk of fearlessly loving 

WITHOUT RUNNING AWAY

My heart is not lifted up 

My eyes are not lifted up 

But calm and quiet is my soul 

Like a child with its mother is my soul 

After awhile in the dark

Your eyes will adjust 

In the shadows you’ll find 

The hand you can trust 

And the still small voice

 That calls like the rising sun 

Come 

Bring your heart 

To every day 

And to run the risk of fearlessly loving 

WITHOUT RUNNING AWAY 

You must run the risk of fearlessly loving 

WITHOUT RUNNING AWAY