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| I’m in Mexico, doing spiritual, emotional, and physical rehab. I’m humiliated by how far I’ve fallen, and that’s the truth. It takes a wise man to learn from their mistakes. I haven’t been accused of being wise for a long time. It’s ego. I think I understand a little more why following Christ seems to get tougher as you get older, if you refuse to relinquish the ego. I am saved. I am chosen by grace to be God’s adopted child. That does not change. But without true humility, being God’s child is a virtual nightmare. I am humiliated by how much I need God. I thought that I should get this spiritual stuff by now. I understood why I needed God so desperately for salvation. I was a desperate mess! And even my ego and great powers of rationalization couldn’t fight that reality any longer. He graciously brought me to a point of humiliation where I could only beg for the mercy He was begging me forever to receive.
But I’ve grown? I climbed the spiritual totem pole relatively quickly. I was passionate, a voracious reader and prayer and meeting attender. I became a leader, and as I ‘grew,’ so did my lack of need for God. My world was flipped upside down. My demographic changed dramatically. My company transformed from white to yellow. My sanctuary transformed from bars to churches. My spiritual balm transformed from a toke to a prayer. But the ego lived on. As time passed, it was my new world that I now used to stroke my delicate ego. Initially, all I could see was the beautiful face of Jesus. But soon enough, I was seeing what His face could bring me. I have always been a show-off. And church is just as good a place as any to show-off. The once crucified ego was finding new life and new ways to feed off the new world.
But that’s the thing about being God’s child. He doesn’t abandon or give up on them. He loves them like a father. He is patient, but firm. I’m humiliated, because I’m supposed to be a man. And I want to be so badly. But the man I want to be too often insists on bringing his manly ego with him. This manly ego cannot stand being humiliated. He cannot stand needing God as much today, if not more, than the day he first met Him. I am humiliated, and that’s the truth. I have fallen so far, that even my ego and great powers of rationalization cannot deny that reality. I’m not there yet. The ego is stubborn and evil and so comfortable where he has always been. But the ego is tired. He’s tired of resisting the truth. He hates needing God so much, but fighting it is too exhausting. The ego had two panic attacks for the love of God! True humiliation is finding its way into the true man. Honesty and confession can finally begin to surface in the true man who has known true humiliation. I’m not there yet, but every now and then, I’ll catch a hazy glimpse of the face of Jesus… and it’s beautiful.
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| A NEW YEAR ENTRY
My backbone is so fickle. It’s there in a flash and then fades under the weight of my own issues. I’ve lost the art of getting over myself. I swear it was being built up and fortified, but then I let it crumble along the way. I have to believe that there are good, cosmic reasons for all of my weaknesses and how they seem to be kicking my A to Z. The safe answer is that it is humbling. And I swear it is, but will they always be there? Could the victory be that I still believe?
I still have hope in Jesus. I can say that with as much honesty as I know. If it weren’t for all He’s done for me, I’m pretty sure I’d be done. But I still have life to live and failures to endure, because I have so much hope, and that is something to say. I’m driven by this unshakable conviction that I have something to say, because of Jesus and what He’s done for me, and the fact that I still believe it. I believe there are junkies who are saved. I believe they’re out there, dying over not being able to quit. They want to quit and be normal and maybe even be useful and I bet they have an incredible story to tell about grace and love and the God who lavishes them with it. I bet they have a relationship with God that is so moving and stirring and would bring great tribute to the One who died for them. I would bet anything.
Another year... and there is so much hope in Jesus.
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| "WHERE I MET MY GOD" (A THANKSGIVING ENTRY)
My complaint turned inward: somebody flash some essence!
High-five culture staves off intimate contact. I’ve got two eyes waiting to find an honest stare.
The mad flow of suggestions from every angle feed electric ears, the tolerance vibe shaking me too far into do-it-yourself metaphysics.
I like the art show aura, because it’s an imitation of life, which is comfortable for me. Practicality bores and intimidates me.
I’m that garbled spirit stuck in one part child’s imagination, two parts naïve idealism, and many parts old enough to know better.
I can’t ward off my nighttime core anymore. Some say the truth hurts, but does it have to kill?
The reflex is frenetic penitence, an impossible chase after everything I’ve done…
He pursues so well, sweating and beaming over every meticulous detail, so I would be certain that it’s me He’s after.
He steers me to a bloody tree, and I’m too ashamed to look up, but too broken not to. And there, my two upward eyes find that perfectly honest stare.
He shatters the incriminating mirror, and a new reflection smiles forever... This is where I met my God.
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| TURNING POINTS
The suicide of Kurt Cobain changed my life. Before he shot himself in the face with a shotgun, I liked his music because everyone else did, especially my cool friends. But I didn’t get his music at all until after he killed himself. His suicide was followed by a sudden hike in teenage suicides, many of which included a note mentioning Cobain’s final fatal statement as inspiration. The reason this changed my life is because it made me sad... profoundly sad. And I’m pretty certain that’s exactly how I was supposed to feel. It was a genuine tragedy. He had a huge influence on our culture, and honestly, a lot of it was unhealthy. But who am I to judge someone who was so devastated by life that he shot himself in the face? The reason his death changed my life is because after I was sad, I started to look at his lyrics and tried to understand them and where Kurt Cobain was coming from. What I realized was that he did a pretty logical thing, if he believed everything he expressed in his music. There must be so much going on in somenone when you decide to shoot yourself in the face.
Through my very real and personal response to the loss of a man who expressed what I didn’t even realize was deeply embedded in my damaged psyche, I was compelled to contemplate the more serious things of life: like hope and love and why? For too long, I was living a façade of cheap thrills and a drug-induced haze of vague happiness. My shallow desires were having a good time, while the deepest yearnings of my soul were steadily being eroded. I was a joke. I would get as high as I could, listen to Nirvana, rock out, and bang my head, but I didn’t get it. I was running around looking for the next rush, so what could I really know about pain and irony and depth. After the guy who wrote all those cool songs shot himself in the face, even a simpleton like me had to ask why? And the answers were frankly terrifying. But finally, I could start taking an honest journey, and I did. I believe I'm still on it.
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| I like Lester's HO-ESQUE appeal for comments. I think I'll try it. If I don't get at least 15 comments, I'm going to drop out of society completely, revive the monastic movement, and swat invisible flies from my head forever and ever.
But I probably won't quit xanga, because I'm a ho' fo' them eprops!... like love-me Lester! 
Lester says, "Hello world! Look at me!"
a qualifier P.S... I love and respect Lester very much. There are not many guys you can do this to without getting a beating in return. And maybe I should be using my fall break a little more productively. hmmm. | | |
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