Thursday, September 12, 2013

Responding to Love

I have to admit it.  I am a blog-link clicker.  Be warned.  If there is an article or blog that is posted on facebook, chances are I've read it.  Partially because I'm a writer.  Mostly because I'm a reader.  I love hearing others articulate and communicate thoughts in new and fresh ways.

Part of my problem, however, is that I can get caught up in the hype.  Most of the time, I'm not sure where I stand until I read an opinion expressed elsewhere.  Especially if it is well written.  Then I'm like, "Oh yeah!  The answer to a revival in the American Church is totally Wednesday morning prayer meetings!"  And then I'll read another blog.  "Wait a second.   Changed my mind.  The way to a spiritual revival is definitely marching around with swords!"

Clearly the answer to anything holy is simply: Jesus.   But at times, I get so caught up in what is being blogged or written or pod-casted that I forget.  I forget I need to take my cray cray self to the feet of Jesus.  Sometimes it feels as if I'm watching a ping pong match, my head spinning on it's axis as I try to follow the ball.  As I try to decide who I want to win.  All the while, I'm ignoring the airplane flying overhead with the banner that reads: "Look Up.  I am here."

Because all my make believe ping pong matches are outside.  With airplanes.

Look up, beloved one.  I am here. Yes. When I do focus and sit deeply in Love, all those opinions and trending issues on Facebook fade.  The confusion and fogginess that I feel when I am immersed in social media lifts, and as I look at my Jesus, a blanket of peace and rest settles on my shoulders.  Things make sense in the presence of God, people.  Or they don't, but it's okay.  Because all that matters is that I am with the One that created, crafted, and purposed me out from the beginning of time.  Good hands to be in.

Jesus asks all of us to come.  And then, as we walk with Him,  He commands us to go.  I know that when He asks me to go, sometimes it means to write what He has laid upon my heart.  That is part of my story.  His command to go, for others, may be in penning a song of praise.  Creating a sculpture.  Painting.  Crunching numbers for non-profits.  Holding the hand of a widow or orphan.  The bottom line is that wherever we go, we are responding to Love.  We are reflecting that love. That is a  posture that should not be taken lightly or sanctimoniously.

It would be easy to sound off on Miley Cyrus and Syria and Proposition 48390483 and that crazy Weiner guy who clearly lives up to his namesake.  (sorry. had to.)  However, as I abide in Him and step out of that never-ending ping pong match, it becomes clear to me that it is not up to me to sound off on anything.  It is not my calling to respond to the world.  And who needs another white privileged girl telling the rest of the Church that they are white and privileged?  No.  No.

What good things do I have to say outside of Him?

For it is my calling to respond to the Love that is inside of me.  The end.  As God grows me, and I as I seriously cling-to-Him-for-breath-and-life-and-sanity, He will make the going part known to me.  And sometimes He'll send me with words.  Sometimes with pondering.  Lots of times with silence.  All the times with stuff to work on.

So.  I'm writing this for my own purposes of declaration.   Not to rake anyone over the coals for writing popular opinion pieces or for posting favorite recipes.  That is between those writers and their God.   But I am setting aside this white space on the internet.  This little corner of blogdom is for my heart to respond to the One who has made it.  This space is to work out my faith in fear and trembling and a little self-deprecating humor.

If this was a house, I would put oil over the doorways or spray it with holy water and invite all my friends over to pray or something.  But since Greg wouldn't appreciate canola oil all over the keyboard of his laptop, I will just declare this:

God.  Do your thing.

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