Why did I ever start this?
Perfectionism like fingers around my neck.
Strangling me.
Screaming for one thing or another.
The wanting. In my life.
Getting a hold. Things beyond my reach.
Knowing better really.
Going round and round.
In futile attempts.
But one thing getting the attention.
Again and again.
The scream that won't die.
For the want. A life full.
And not knowing the how.
To get there.
Collaging words. Snapping beauty everywhere I go.
The hunt.
And in the hunt.
What I am learning. Even now.
Broken.
A theme in life.
With God. Myself. And others.
Fear bellowing loud.
Exploding on the page.
Daily lack showing up hungry.
Throwing off track.
Scaring. Isolating.
And me.
Running to whatever fixes.
For a while.
And it's been a theme.
In this space.
Because maybe you too.
The reminding.
And the best counseling.
Sometimes a friend.
Having already dug deep.
And in the safety. I find.
The not-giving of trite.
Or disguised contempt.
Or weary showing through.
But gently. Humbly.
The redirecting.
Reframing of the snap shots.
Of everyday life.
Because.
When we take off our mask.
In the real and the messy.
And still. Do not scare.
When judgment does not knock us over the head.
In the reality of who we are.
And the scream dying a thousand deaths.
In the gift of grace.
We stop being scared.
Stop running.
Turning around.
And really see.
A love story never more beautiful.
Jesus. Full of grace and truth.
And so.
Finding the intimacy I crave.
A life full. Of Him.
The unmasking. Gloriously liberating.
And offering it. My broken.
To a world that sometimes scorns.
Knowing all along.
It may not be enough.
Or it may be too much.
But offering it anyway.
Why did I ever start this?
Because.
Talking about the grace of God makes me come alive.
Maundy Thursday. Holy Week. Black Friday. What's in a name? The connotation can be positive or negative but the naming of something gives substance and meaning. We associate good or bad; there is understanding.
What is significant about Thursday? Historically, this day on the calendar commemorates the Last Supper, the night Jesus shared the Passover meal in the upper room with his disciples on the night before He was to be crucified.
It is a solemn day; a day of reflection. Events are unfolding and they are sobering.
During the Passover meal that evening, Jesus took the bread and gave thanks and broke it to symbolize His body which was to be broken. In the same way, He took the wine and gave thanks offering it to the disciples to remember Him. He gave thanks . . . knowing what was before Him that very night.
Judas would betray Him. His disciples would fall asleep. Peter would deny Him. He would be arrested.
The events of the cosmos since the beginning of time were coming together this very night to begin to bring the world back into relationship with God.
Jesus knew and gave thanks in the upper room.
And in the knowing, He will walk into the hours ahead - what will become, for Him, humiliating and excruciating, painful and horrific. He knows he will hang from a cross until the veil of the temple is torn in half by invisible forces and the earth rumbles in response to His pain and agony and death. Everything will screech to a halt as the universe shutters. He knows.
He is about to do what I am incapable of doing. It is shocking and jaw-dropping. The cross will change everything.
Good news is coming but we are not there yet.
Today is Thursday.
Jesus bowed His head and gave thanks. He broke the bread and passed the wine so we would remember . . .
