In the current of my chaos…

With the arrival of Valentine’s Day steadily approaching like a killer stampede of wildebeests (NOOO!!!! Mufasa!) or a runaway freight train (bluegrass, anyone?), I’m trying desperately not to sound, appear, or even entertain the notion of being desperate. (Insert a very large “HOWEVER”) You know this struggle - this pull towards loneliness that seems unconquerable even by the distractions of life, even the temporary hilarity and joy of everyday moments. I wonder if I’ll ever be content with the here and now.

In truth, it all points to a desperate longing for something else. Something much bigger (now, before you scold me for setting you up for a formidable “that’s what she said” moment, let me assure you [with mild facetiousness] that I mean this in all seriousness. To understand the method to my madness, you must read ahead. Go on. I pray thee, continue!). We’ve all heard Pascal’s idea of our “God-shaped hole” and St. Augustine’s sentiments of "You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are rest-less till they find their rest in you." But I mean something more than a salvation experience (I mean, truthfully, aren’t we being saved daily and for the rest of eternity?), something that envelopes and upholds the whole of us… something that causes us to lose us (in all our smallness and mere existing) and gain Him (in His grandiose ways and epic romance of humanity for His glory).

(What a whore we’ve (I’ve) made of love! Ahava, what abuses you has endured, what slander our culture, humanness, and frailty has done to tarnish your good name!)

So, to add a personal column to this newspaper, I’m going to come to terms with some relationships in my past. Don’t worry now, I’m not going to turn into an unsavory exhibitionist and bleed all over you. I’ve just learned a lot from my less-than romantic relationship rendezvous’ and perhaps even more from the ones God has not allowed me in on. There are a small handful of people I haven’t yet forgiven, partly because I don’t know how to and partly because that would involve letting go my right to being angry and bitter. That’s a lot of wasted energy.

To this day, there are certain people’s facebooks on which I cannot linger. You know what I’m talking about. People who, in the past or even to this day, seem utterly, intrinsically, and sublimely made for you. You were completely drawn to every aspect of this person, from the odd, slightly miraculous way you met, to the ease of conversation, to the new thoughts he conceived in your mind, to the way you felt like you were made into a better person when you spent time with him (What can I say? I’m a hopeless, cynical romantic…alas [eke]…). And then one day something happens like, say, they get married (or die - kinda the same thing to the single friend left behind wondering what in the world just happened). Clearly, destiny was just defied, right? Wrong. You think you’ve just missed your chance and now you will have to do one of two things: 1. Rent an old apartment, buy a hoard of cats, and sit around in a wedding dress like Miss Habersham, or 2. Settle, while pining away for someone who never was meant to be yours. Oh yes, I buy into that lie far too often (and its one of the main reasons I settle for the less-than-right guys I do).

However, the truth of the matter is, God is not so cruel as to place such a man [of His own heart, risk-taker, life-sparker, bullet-soul] before me only to show me what I can never have. I choose to believe He showed me this individual and placed him in my life for a season to encourage me to not give up hope and trust that if I thought this guy was “the one,” then I’m really gonna be overjoyed when he actually does show up. So, my single friends, speaking also from the side of singleness (instead of one who’s happily engaged in a relationship or an engagement or wedding planning or family making or child rearing), let us not pine away our days. Instead, let us live courageously and fully with chutzpah and hurrah, squeezing every drop of living out of our short lives and losing our infinitesimal story in God’s infinite one. (Sounds good, right? Well, it’s meant for just as much to en(fuse)courage into me as it is for you.)

So, maybe he’ll walk through the automatic, sliding doors at a gas station ironically yclept “Love’s” with the sun catching the friendly-familiar glimmer in his eyes… Or maybe, he’ll be amazed by your overwhelming affection for the Crowder and simply enamored by your rambling, yet completely coherent thoughts while riding down escalators…Or maybe, while in a small Central-American village, he’ll turn to you and realize you were the one who was always there and he just didn’t see it till that very moment… But for now, I’m going to stop falling for a ghost in the meantime - and stop selling myself as a substitute.

The late Mike Yaconelli talked about being desperate for Jesus - how such people don’t fit well in our comfortable church culture (such people that cause the comfortable people to say, “Uh! The nerve of some people! Can you believe her?!?”) I wanna be in on God’s kingdom of outsiders, on His remnant of outcasts. I want to wrap my life around His and focus my attention solely on Him, embarrassing the flesh and anyone else who is comfy in their following of Christ.

The much-quoted C.S. Lewis wrote, “Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
So, with the despised sound of country music blaring in the background (“…the Lord made me hard to handle” [insert twang])…(nope, the synapses just aren’t making the leaps in my head…can’t. hear. myself. think.)…go in peace. Be desperate.