I feel like I've been fast mapping ideas a lot lately. Some of those ideas will eventually make it here. Some will never leave the pages of my journal or my oh look, there's no one around me out loud rambles. All of which makes it very hard to join the rest of the world in every day walking around things. It is very hard to go from pondering the enormity of Heaven and how G-d breathes life into this world and give a whole lot of thought as to whether there is mayonnaise in the fridge and whether the dog been out recently.
My notebook comes out more often in polite company, and I find myself sharing more of my thoughts. They are spilling over. My Rip Van Winkle awakening is complete, and I am in spring cleaning mode. I'm sifting through everything and shedding a thousand skins, even as the world is hemorrhaging. Perhaps because the world is hemorrhaging. I am escaping into that which I know. Grain by grain.
Across the board, I am examining, discarding and fleshing out my ideas and purpose. I am for the first time in some time, sinking into the knowledge that I'm out of sync, and relishing it. Even as I find myself disengaged with some people and in some arenas, I have been cheered by the discovery of more members of my tribe.
In church, I feel smaller and more settled with that. Questions that once seems so pressing now seem both less and more settled. Even as mad men run trucks into people, driven people drive the restless into political and personal frenzy, and we all point fingers at one another and bemoan the uncertainty, I feel more certainty.
It is awfully dim sometimes. We do batter and bruise one another. Those who profess neither G-d in heaven nor G-d in Jesus are certain we can fix it if we find enlightenment. Those who claim G-d often wait for redemption. Sometimes we get panicky and try to out do G-d as we try to hear and be everything to everyone.
It could easily be said I spend too much time thinking about what makes Jesus divine. seeing how little I have to show for my musings, I will concede. I am inefficient.
I cannot help but think that Jesus's ability to see both heaven and earth and choose earth anyway tells a story. His ability to sit with those with whom he had little in common, and see them as whole tells a story. His willingness to be messy tells a story. It all tells a story of Heaven creeping into the cracks of humanity to save our cracked souls. To bring water and manna.
Truthfully, it's not one I can tell or live well. Because I'm not Jesus. I'm not even John the Baptist. Or Mary, Martha, or Mary Magdalene. I'm kind of a nobody. Just like pretty much everyone else I know. None of us hangs the stars. Most don't even know their human names. Not even the big deal stars. So we're probably not going to figure out how to stop the shootings today. We won't cleanse our nation of its racial or misogynistic sins. We won't even figure out who is the most capable, truth telling candidate in time for the next election. We're stumbling in the dark
But good news. One is coming who is and was and will be the one that can settle us and pull us center. And like every other time I've entertained a houseguest, I can get ready. I can clean the closets, take out the trash, and pull out the chairs and clean linens. I can make room.
On this July day, I cry Advent; I whisper Emmanuel. I prepare as much as I can, knowing I don't have the answers because I am not the One, but wanting to leave room for the one who is more than I will ever be.
I in Christ. Christ in Me. And with all who would also make room for the manger.
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