Inside I feel unrest. I am disillusioned by the pageantry and "prettiness" of all that surrounds me. I long to experience God, not this. How I miss the true relationship that I had with Him, the certainty, the
personal part of being a follower of Christ. I feel
unease. I feel I am not where i am supposed to be - because I do not belong here. Whether that is
here literally - in Texas, the U.S, or whatever, or whether I simply feel a longing for Heaven, a world where I am no longer torn apart by sin, and a constancy with my Savior, I do not know.
Perhaps not having a home makes you think about such things. Where
do I belong? It certainly isn't here - caught in this cycle of fakeness and confusion. I continue to struggle, no, fail, in the battle against my flesh. I long for someplace else - for something I do not have, or perhaps something I have managed to turn my back on. Sure, it is easy for me to say that right now, in the midst of unemployment and homelessness - that I long for a real job, for a consistent place I can call my own to lay my head. But is this the real issue that boils inside my head and more importantly my heart?
Sure, it would be nice to have money, but oh how I have come to realize that life is so much more than this. I have just learned that I have been living at the poverty level since I graduated. The measly money I've been living on, that I have made each day subbing is, by the world's standards, below the poverty line. Yet, I have not been want for anything that I really NEEDED. Granted, I had parents standing by, had I needed them to bail me out, but still. My basic needs were met, which is more than what can be said for a large percentage of the world's population. Life is not fulfilled, nor true happiness found, through money or any of these "material possessions." These are fleeting - temporary.
I want to make a difference to the world I now call home - an eternal difference. I long to return to Austria, to reach out to these people who have no one to care. A people who really, are caught up in this same mentality that drives most Americans lives, and has driven my own to this point. How much freedom would be found by all of us if we truly learned these things. How I long to return to a place where I am accepted for who I am - where I am appreciated - where my talents can be used. To return to a people who value sincerity, relationships, caring and
realness, a people who are slow to make friends. To be in a place where people, like me, want and need to learn what it really means to be a follower of Christ.
Oh that I could leave behind this sea of mink coats, plastic smiles, television cameras, stuffy dress, and phoniness and return to a simple life - a life where I study the Bible to learn what I am supposed to do and how I am supposed to live. A place where people are not judged by the color of their skin, the clothes that they wear, the extra pounds that carry around their middle. That I would stop focusing on judging, on the negative things that keep "happening to me" and look instead to the positive promises of Christ.
The group of asian visitors sitting in the rows in front of me are seeing this
production, perhaps their first experience in an United States church. And they see this, as they sit surrounded by Barbies and Kens who have arrived in their plastic convertibles. They probably hear others who, upon seeing them, go the other way because, "Oh my goodness, there are Chinese here - we need to sit far away from them" (and yes, I DID hear this actual thing uttered). And the only thing these sweet people are able to do is to sit back in awe, not of our God, but of this lavish and ridiculous pageant that is unfolding before them, to snap pictures of the giant stained glass windows, and the gold plated speakers. Why can't the church reach out to these people and the thousands like them, those who need Christ the most. Perhaps instead of inviting them so we can stare at them, and talk about them under our breaths, we should get to know them. To stop laughng at them for all the pictures they are taking, and show them a picture of the Christ who could bring so much more to their lives. And it's not just people from other countries - it's criminals, druggies, and, dare I say it, homosexuals, all of these people who are caught in the struggles of addictions and sin, loneliness, and separation from their homes and those they love . My God, how these people need Christ. And I see now, more than ever, that I am NO different!
All this to say I don't know where I am supposed to go from here or what I am supposed to do. I'm neck deep in refinement, and in my ignorance and stubborness I keep throwing water onto the fire. What does this accomplish? Little, but delaying the beautiful creation that waits on the other side. I long to see the "other side" of this period of my life, yet I know that until I can look past myself and to Christ, I won't.
Written while staying in Houston this weekend with James for an old OPAS friend's wedding, while attending services at 2nd Baptist. As the sermon began, and really even before, I committed an atrocity unknown to my past. I completely ignored the preacher and began writing in my journal. I guess when God is talking to you, it supercedes the pastor's words...that's all.
