It's 5:53 in the morning. I've been up since 4:30. I had a migraine last night and probably didn't fall asleep until 11 or 11:30pm. For some reason, my migraine medicine makes me wake up early the next day. Normally I have this "somewhere over the rainbow" feeling but today I woke up sad.
This world that we live in is sad. I recently found the guy that I loved in high school on facebook. I remember the days when he loved Jesus. I'm not saying that he doesn't love Jesus now, but he's outing himself on facebook, which in many ways is a big step. He's never come out and admitted it to me. I'm just sad about it. I've grieved it many times. It's like someone has died.
I don't really know what to say to him. I've had a ton of gay friends. Another good friend of mine called me about a month ago and basically said that he's going back to being gay. He's tried living straight and pursuing God with a whole heart, but in the end is tired of feeling tortured. He told me last night, "I just want to be at peace." What I've realized in the last few hours is that the lack of chaos does not necessarily mean peace. When we give in to the temptations that are around us, we certainly silence the wrestling within us...but only for a moment. It becomes like a drug at that point...always needing just a bit more to be satisfied. True peace is something much bigger than the momentary silencing of tension in our lives.
When I lived in Wisconsin, I lived with two gay guys at one point and with two sisters (one of which was a lesbian.) I love this community. My heart breaks for them. I want to be an advocate for them. I want to show God's love to them. While my heart breaks for the LGBT community, there is something in my that is just rocked to the core when people who have known Jesus walk away from Him. I'm sure people have felt that about me as I've made many choices to walk away from Him, to run after the Sirens.
The thing is I don't know how to communicate with this high school friend. We'll call him Bob to protect his anonymoty ?. I don't know whether I should not say anything at all. I don't know whether I should re-assure him that he won't be rejected by me. I don't know whether to tell him that for every other gay person in the world, I could except them just as they are...but I don't think I could ever be ok with the choice that he's making. I don't know whether I can tell him, that I just want to fall down weeping, when I think about this. I've got a broken heart that has been broken multiple times over the last 20 years by this man. He abandoned our friendship with no explanation. Now is the first time that he's even acknowledged my existence and opened up a way to communicate to him. I'm sure that he's got a mask on that says he doesn't care what people's reactions are (mine included)...but I have to believe that somewhere deep inside of him, he's wanting to see how we'll respond.
So, I don't know what to do. As for now, I have to get ready for work. I have to catch the bus in 40 minutes.
Pray for me today if you read this. My emotions are a bit wacky in my post-migraine world. I seem to be extra sensitive. No time for sensitivity on Mondays.
I was going to write about something else today, I don't remember what it was. Maybe it'll come to me. Price of Peace...will you reign today over me.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
Another Monday Morning Memo worth reading
Irrational Commitment
or, Why Did Wizard Academy Build a Free Wedding Chapel?
Irrational commitment is a powerful thing. It is the stuff of heroes. Legends live because of it.
And like anything powerful, it can be turned toward darkness.
But let us look toward the light.
Francis Bacon (1561-1626) made a fascinating observation during the days of Cervantes (1547-1616): Philosophy is based on reason and is, therefore, rational. Faith is based on revelation and is, therefore, irrational. Consequently, the greater the impossibility of the thing you believe, the greater the honor to God.
Faith is an irrational commitment of the heart, the pattern-recognizing right brain, not the deductive-reasoning left.
In Cervantes' book Don Quixote de la Mancha, our hero makes an irrational commitment to a common village girl who doesn't even know he exists. To the rest of us, there's nothing special about Aldonza Lorenzo. But in the mind of Quixote she embodies everything that is good and right and true. He sees in her a princess and calls her his lady Dulcinea.
Quixote's irrational commitment to Dulcinea gives him vision and focus and purpose.
Do you make your commitments in your rational mind, or in your irrational heart?
Quixote makes himself a fool for Dulcinea, and in her name accomplishes many impossible things.
Doing the impossible is easy when you're utterly committed and have pushed aside your logical mind.
Here's an example of an irrational commitment made by 56 men, 230 years ago:
"And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor."
Lady Liberty was their Dulcinea.
Here's another irrational commitment:
"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America…"
America is a Lady, not a place. And many have given their lives for her honor.
But here, I believe, is the best irrational commitment of them all:
"…for better, for worse,
for richer, for poorer,
in sickness and in health,
to love and to cherish,
till death us do part."
In case I haven't made it clear: I am in favor of irrational commitment. "It is not good… to be alone."
On June 7, 1947, Paul Compton made an irrational commitment to Jean Johnson and in later years he would be called to deliver on his promise: Alzheimer's disease stole Jean from Paul, but left her frail body in his care. Strengthened only by the memory of their years together, Paul faced the never-ending job of caring for her empty shell 24 hours a day. And he did it without complaint for 20 long years.
I've never known a better man.
Paul and Jean had 4 daughters, all of whom work shoulder-to-shoulder with their husbands and have done so for more than 30 years. Miraculously, each of the girls is still married to her first husband, though none of those husbands is a prize. Trust me, I know them all. I'm the 18 year-old boy with no money and no future who married the youngest daughter.
If you would taste truth and beauty and grace, you must reach for the fruit of a tree planted deep in the soil of irrational commitment.
I wish you good fortune on your journey.
Roy H. Williams
or, Why Did Wizard Academy Build a Free Wedding Chapel?
Irrational commitment is a powerful thing. It is the stuff of heroes. Legends live because of it.
And like anything powerful, it can be turned toward darkness.
But let us look toward the light.
Francis Bacon (1561-1626) made a fascinating observation during the days of Cervantes (1547-1616): Philosophy is based on reason and is, therefore, rational. Faith is based on revelation and is, therefore, irrational. Consequently, the greater the impossibility of the thing you believe, the greater the honor to God.
Faith is an irrational commitment of the heart, the pattern-recognizing right brain, not the deductive-reasoning left.
In Cervantes' book Don Quixote de la Mancha, our hero makes an irrational commitment to a common village girl who doesn't even know he exists. To the rest of us, there's nothing special about Aldonza Lorenzo. But in the mind of Quixote she embodies everything that is good and right and true. He sees in her a princess and calls her his lady Dulcinea.
Quixote's irrational commitment to Dulcinea gives him vision and focus and purpose.
Do you make your commitments in your rational mind, or in your irrational heart?
Quixote makes himself a fool for Dulcinea, and in her name accomplishes many impossible things.
Doing the impossible is easy when you're utterly committed and have pushed aside your logical mind.
Here's an example of an irrational commitment made by 56 men, 230 years ago:
"And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor."
Lady Liberty was their Dulcinea.
Here's another irrational commitment:
"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America…"
America is a Lady, not a place. And many have given their lives for her honor.
But here, I believe, is the best irrational commitment of them all:
"…for better, for worse,
for richer, for poorer,
in sickness and in health,
to love and to cherish,
till death us do part."
In case I haven't made it clear: I am in favor of irrational commitment. "It is not good… to be alone."
On June 7, 1947, Paul Compton made an irrational commitment to Jean Johnson and in later years he would be called to deliver on his promise: Alzheimer's disease stole Jean from Paul, but left her frail body in his care. Strengthened only by the memory of their years together, Paul faced the never-ending job of caring for her empty shell 24 hours a day. And he did it without complaint for 20 long years.
I've never known a better man.
Paul and Jean had 4 daughters, all of whom work shoulder-to-shoulder with their husbands and have done so for more than 30 years. Miraculously, each of the girls is still married to her first husband, though none of those husbands is a prize. Trust me, I know them all. I'm the 18 year-old boy with no money and no future who married the youngest daughter.
If you would taste truth and beauty and grace, you must reach for the fruit of a tree planted deep in the soil of irrational commitment.
I wish you good fortune on your journey.
Roy H. Williams
Sunday, November 9, 2008
silence
i haven't forgotten about you....i just don't have anything to say. i know that's a shocking confession...but it's true. I'll update soon, I promise.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
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