The silence of a muddled mind

I've been trying to think of something to write here for the last few days. But the truth is, I'm kind of muddled right now.

I'm waiting with a friend as her mother inches ever closer to death. I'm on call for her 24/7, and that is taking my time. I go to bed each night wondering if this will be the night that my cell phone rings and wakes me - the night where I need to roll out of bed, climb in the car, and find a friend, with nothing more to offer than a hug.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that death is something that is part of life. That it is horrific, a harsh mercy, that it is not something that ever seems timely or fair. That it is draining. That it can induce fear, and that it can create great beauty and that it will bring great pain.

I'm learning about my own fears. And they are many. I'm learning that I don't have to live to the standard that exists in my head - that it is a false standard, and it is not failure when I don't achieve it.

I'm learning that I am Lisa. That I am not any one of a number of people in my life whom I greatly respect, but whose opinions, behaviours and standards I have come to realize that I measure myself by. The other night God spoke to me simply. "You don't have to measure up."

I'm learning to pray single words. To pray "Hallelujah - Glory to God" and "Immanuel - God with us." I'm learning this becuase these are the words God has spoken in the last week. I'm learning to pray them when they seem least applicable, to pray them when I feel them the least, to rest in them and take comfort in them.

I'm working through some painful wounds in my life. Some hurts from family that intensified during the last month.

I'm working on not carrying the load of my concerns myself, but on sharing them with friends, and primarily with God. This is not easy for a self-admitted control freak.

I'm coming to terms with the reality that Mike Yaconelli phrased like this:
"Brennan Manning wrote a children’s book that was rejected by Christian publishers because the name he had given for children for the Holy Spirit was “Danger”. And they said we’re not going to publish a book for little kids that tells them that the name for the Holy Spirit is “Dangerous”. And I’m thinking, “why? He is dangerous!” I’ve never understood why people get all kind of teary eyed, and they sing and go “oh holy spirit come into the room” Okay. I hope you know what that means. I hope you understand that as Thomas Merton said, that when the Holy Spirit shows up you’d better be prepared to die. This Christian faith is wild and dangerous and terrifying and it ought to revolutionize and turn our lives upside down… this is scary stuff…

The reality is that when Christ came into my life, He ruined it. I’ve never been the same since. When Jesus Christ comes into your life He doesn’t just come in and sprinkle a little wiffle dust on it and make us go “oh I just love singing and being with God” He scares the hell out of us. He frightens us....

I want to know how come so many Christians today are not terrified of God. I want to know why they’re not afraid of Him. I want to know why they think you can just come into the presence of God and of Christ and that nothing is going to change. He’s going to wreck your life. He’s going to ruin it. And it’s going to be a glorious ruining, and you’re going to be thrilled the whole time.

I'm muddled. And I think I'm okay with that. I'd like to be unmuddled, but since that doesn't seem to be something I can plan on happening anytime soon. Since God seems intent on "wrecking my life" at the moment, I guess I'll just sit back and enjoy the ride! The Holy Spirit has been dangerous as He has shown up in my life, but it has been a danger marked by intense beauty. What I've written here seems so sanitized, so very unmuddled. My words don't seem to communicate the "messy" nature of the last few weeks. So, I'll leave you with the assurance of my muddled mind, and the gratefulness that muddled is okay.