First of all a word of apology to all my faithful readers. I realize that my last post was anything but uplifting, and I'm sorry for causing any unecessary concern. Just know that since that time, I feel as though my life has done a 180 (stemming primarily from a long talk w/ my boss, the arrival of warm weather and learning to let go of perfectionism) and for the first time I am (should I dare say it?) beginning to feel more at home in New York....
Today was a day of much reflection. You know when one semi-emotional situation triggers all these other unrelated emotions that need to be dealt with? Well, maybe you don't but that's kind of how today was. So the semi-emotional situation happens to be a date that I had last night. I hesitate to use the word "emotional". The date, in fact, was very good but nonetheless had me doing a great deal of thinking about things today--things I so wish to divulge here but are best left for a safer space than the world wide web.
In the midst of my reflective mode I happened to be reading the last couple chapters of The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning, which (as of today) has been deemed one of my favorite books. In short, it is the story of God's radical grace:
Chapter 10- "The Victorious Limp"
When the prodigal son limped home from his lengthy binge of waste and wandering, boozing and womanizing, his motives were mixed at best. He said to himself, 'How many of my father's paid servants have more food than they want, and here am I dying of hunger! I will leave this place and go to my father' (Lk. 15:17-18). The ragamuffin stomach was not churning with compunction because he had broken his father's heart. He stumbled home simply to survive. Disenchanted with life, the wastrel weaved his way home, not from a burning desire to see his father, but just to stay alive....'While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly' (Lk. 15:20)...What a word of encouragement, consolation and comfort! We don't have to sift our hearts and analyze our intentions before returning home. Abba just wants us to show up. We don't have to tarry at the tavern until purity of heart arrives. We don't have to be shredded with sorrow or crushed with contrition. We don't have to be perfect or even very good before God will accept us. We don't have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation. Even if we still nurse a secret nostalgia for the far country, Abba falls on our neck and kisses us.
Ok, so basically my past 10 months in New York have forced me to re-evaluate my faith on every level imaginable. Is that really God or just the god who resides in Texas? Christians can be Democrats? How do I explain to people why sex is only intended for marriage? My religion says I am supposed to label homosexuality as sin, but why do I feel like I'm trying to convince myself of that as I try to explain my "belief" to a fellow co-worker who has just revealed she is gay? Why do I believe the Bible? How do I convince people that Jesus was the real deal? How do I know that for myself? ... And so on and so forth, to the point where I wonder if I'm sure of anything anymore. I thought that once I went through my phase, experienced all the necessary epiphanies, and had answers to all my questions then I could face God again because I would actually know who He is--for real this time. Instead of drawing me closer I have allowed my doubt to distance me. What a refreshment it was to hear that I don't need resolution to all these theological debates going on in my head before I can approach the Father again. Manning points out that "[He] expects more failure from us than we do from ourselves".....and, as far as I'm concerned, never has the prospect of failure been such sweet consoloation to my soul.
