On [not] sharing my faith...

I spent a couple hours today working on my email address book and adding names to a email group for my prayer letter/ministry update. Combing through my address book, I was taken back by how few people I've actually shared my faith with, or at least who know me as a Christian. It's like... the closer the person is to me, the less likely they are to know about my faith, perticulary if they knew me before or during my Conversion.

No wonder sharing my journey last Spring at MHC felt so much like coming-out...except it was with one small group of people and not everyone I know or who is important to me. I think that in all my years at Creekside and Miari, I came close only ONCE to sharing my faith...whether or not a few others have guessed my faith, I can only hypothesize. Given the hostile climate (a few often mock Christians just about every chance they get, another seems badly burned: "Gods too busy to hear your prayers"), I didn't [don't] want to be the one who throws salt in the wounds Christianity has inflicted upon them, to be the one who pushes them even further away, yet by not acknowledging that I am a follower of Christ, I am no better than the others and have no chance to help them see who Jesus really is.

As for my [extended] family, I can only guess. I suppose one good thing about my room back at my parent's, is that its not hard to figure out I'm a Christian from it; bad news is that my faith seems almost taboo-ish (but in whose eyes? mine? or theirs?) and has replaced the need to publicly declare that I follow Jesus.

There really are two "mes": the Christian and the closet Christian.

Once again this verse rings true to me:
"Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God." -2Co4:2

I have a lot of reconciling to do.

I feel small and alone and fearful and my perception of myself is all jumbled up in a blender. I am quite possibly the most open I've been to/about God in a while, but I also ache the most: four days shy of six months since the accident and the pain/longing of not riding still haunts me. Huh-- I wonder if Kris would like a healing buddy...

Looking back over the past couple weeks, I can see the small ways in which people have buttressed themself around me; for that I am thankful. Like Jen-- her raw honesty and hospitality-- CP and all of her wonderfulness; Gina's faithfulness never ceases to bewilder me; Kathleen's courage and prayer support; Scott's understanding; Chris speaking truth directly into my life and the myraid of people who, well, give a rip.

I find myself listening to this song more and more lately....

Hello, good morning, how ya do?
What makes your rising sun so new?
I could use a fresh beginning too
All of my regrets are nothing new

So this is the way
that I say that I need You
This is the way
This is the way

That I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that You and
You alone can break my fall
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies

(Switchfoot, Learning to Breath)

and even more to this song...

Not much for conversation

I still find need to pray

Sometimes I get tired of walking

Through these ordinary days

If nothing else I get to see you

Even if we never speak

The harm of words though sometimes

We don't quite know

What they really mean

I don't know where

I don't know how

I don't know

your love can make

These things better

(Jars of Clay, These Ordinary Days)

It's been a long time since I've had a Linkin Park day, but today is definitely one.

I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard
Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact
That everybody can see these scars I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you
To just believe this is real
So I, let go watching you turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend that I'm not
But I'll be here cause you're all that I've got

I can't feel the way I did before
Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored
Time won't heal this damage anymore
Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored

I am, a little bit insecure, a little unconfident
Cuz you don't understand I do what I can
Sometimes I don't make sense
I am, what you never wanna say, but I've never had a doubt
It's like no matter what I do I can't convince you for once just to hear me out
So I, let go watching you turn your back like you always do
You face away and pretend that I'm not
But I'll be here cause you're all that I've got

***

The four hardest things for me to say are:
-I hurt
-I need
-I love
-Help me
I'm having to say these a lot recently.

My life right now is riddled with gaping, oozing wounds--the spiritual sort. The damage is deeper than it looks and is seeping into all areas of my life. I have not the strenght to cling on, to fight these battles. Sometimes I just want to hide, to dissapear, to check myself into a mental institution in hopes that I'm just being dellusional, but that's not an option. More and more I wonder if Kathleen isn't on to something, that part of this mess is my pagan/wiccan past coming back to be reckoned with. Oye.

Please pray for me.

In other news, my "Jesus group" (Bible study for people who are unsure about their faith) is going well. :-)

YEP... the long awaited quilt pic. If you look closely, you can see some of my hand-stiching.



A dorky looking picture of me that my friend Sheneka took, but it shows me and my car.....


So far its been a pretty good car and I am so thankful to have my own set of wheels! I also totally love the fact it is a very unique color (in the sunlight its a dijon mustardy-tan metallic), so NO ONE (that i know) has the same color car as me!




Mic Check

testing, testing, one, two, three. . .
this road i'm on, this life i lead
it isn't the one i thought i'd have,
but it ain't so bad either

more and more i see
that most of what i want
i hardly have to leave for.
books, reading, writing, friends
endless cups of tea and coffee shops
the Bible, tough conversations about life, faith and God
fill my days.

A Washingtonian no longer, I've given ties to my childhood up
to embrace God's plan. [I'm a Masschusettisan now.]
My roots will never leave me.

Deep down, underneath the day-to-day,
beyond the doubts and the uncertainies,
I hope--long?-- to ride again,
once more
to be immersed in German cultural goodness.

My faith isn't as strong as it once was,
doubts, disillusions and cold, hard concrete
eroded much of it.

I long for the one who sees me;
who sees me as i am--
through the front of a neatly-packaged life,
through the dreams, the schemes and craziness,
to put his arms around me;
his stillness and strength
lets a trembling, anxious me know
that everything's gonna be okay.

check, check. . . mic check done.