Friday, June 29, 2007

No poetic words today

I don't think I can muster up the energy to be that creative. I've spent my energy on being a parent, mentor, disciplinarian, friend, confidant, assistant director, and house sitter this week. I'm done with energy! So today is a good ol' fashioned blog post. Emo post, if you wish.

I had a talk with God this evening. It was pretty one sided. Like a venting fight with a good friend who just knows to listen. I shouted for a while, as I put the dishes away. At first it was in pure desperation, throwing my hands up into the air and looking at different parts of the ceiling. Later it became a frustrated, choked up conversation. We talked about the craziness that some people have to deal with in their life. I talked about my issues with wanting to save the world (of course I didn't actually use those words... they're just the words that seem to make sense right now). I found myself walking in circles in my one sided conversation, asking why for others, asking why for myself, asking why in general and back again. God doesn't seem to answer the why questions. I told him I wanted to hear him audibly, that I was tired of simply trying to feel His answers. Then I went back to why.

This conversation with God was sandwiched between two conversations with the same person, in no unlikely cosmic mishap. The starter conversation had actually been the second time I was on the phone with this person today. They had called me earlier in a foul mood, one of those moods that doesn't speak in metaphors, but rather epithets and profanity. After convincing this said person that I could do nothing if they didn't tell me what was going on, I got a little bit of information. In short this person's short temper had backfired and now they were scared. After a little bit of straight talk I was told I would get a call back later. The next conversation, the first piece of bread in God talk sandwich was a follow up. I called to make sure that the person had followed through on some of the steps to hopefully soften the blow of their temper backfire. I was comforted with the unfortunate words "I was stupid, are you going to be mad?" These words I have heard before, they usually begin the I did this last night conversation. Some of them end with, "I'll show you the (self-inflicted in a way) bruise tomorrow. You should see the hole in my wall."
I thought I wouldn't be phased by the conversation, and I prefaced it with the normal, " I haven't been mad at you to the point of not talking to you yet, but if you're starting with that sentence, you might expect me to be upset." Then it came, words that made me more than upset, they put fear back into my heart for this young person. It started with, "After school a whole bunch of my friends went to the golf course..." For some people those words would be the beginning of a great story, how they resisted temptation, but I knew this was not one of those stories. For the next five minutes we talked, I can't recall much of what I said, but when they asked me if I was mad, I told the person that I was scared. They said they would call me back.

This was the time of my conversation. I couldn't just sit and talk, I got up and cleaned the dishes as I stormed around complaining, and laying it out for God. I was pissed at that point, and He knew about it. We talked for about 20 minutes. In that time I was reminded that I can do nothing on my own.

Two minutes after my frustration had defused my phone rang; I prayed until it went to it's last ring, then I picked it up.

The last piece of bread lasted for a while, as we discussed many things. We talked about addiction and quick fixes. We talked about consequences, and motives. Then we prayed, I prayed, then they did. We talked a bit about forgiveness in a round about way, then we ended with what now. It's no easy feat to overcome something that not only seems big, but is big in human standards. It's easy to organize our mastery of our own flesh when we foolishly think we can do it ourselves. Perhaps I will talk to the person in a few days and let them in on this thought. For now I will pray. Perhaps on my knees, as uncomfortable as it may be, I think it's worth it to be uncomfortable and pray - it reminds me that I am too weak to do things on my own.

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