Maybe it's the only child in me. Or maybe it's because, even when I was younger, I've always had a hard time figuring out exactly who I am or what crowd suits me. I remember having really good friends come & go all throughout elementary school, depending on the teacher I had or the amount of time we spent together in after school activities.
In middle school, I found a group I hung with pretty much through all three years. But it was middle school, the era of insecurity and backstabbing, which meant most of them weren't really friends with me, or each other, anyway. Still we spent a lot of time together and it felt like devastation when we went our separate ways to different high schools. We promised to stay best friends and even went to a Michael W. Smith concert where we bawled/sang "Friends are friends forever..."
I probably saw most of those people less than three times after that. All that time & energy invested in getting to know someone and letting them know you seemed like a waste. In high school I found some fabulous friends at school. They were creative and smart and fun to be around. Our "clique" changed a little from year to year, but most of us were the same. But I was also getting very active in my church and spending most of my time there, so I was sometimes more of a fringe member. After graduation, we made a few attempts to stay in touch, but eventually lost track of each other.
Even college, where I lived and ate and cried and studied and grew so much, was a lot of the same experience. Camp staff, grad school, co-workers at my first school- all the same story. The only thing that has reconnected me to any of these people has been Facebook. And I truly am glad that it did.
I am terrible at keeping up with people after too much time has passed. I worry that it might feel awkward, or it will be too much work, or that they've moved on and I'm old news, or that I've changed too much and we don't have anything in common anymore. I'm not good with awkward. I'm not good with insecurity or rejection or failure. So all to often, I've walked away. I would think about my old friends, talk about them with my husband, reminisce about wonderful times, but I wouldn't pick up the phone or type an e-mail.
Well, I have this one friend. And this friend is involved in a lot of tension. It's not him really, it's the people all around him. They pull him in one direction or the other, staking claim and making assertions, fighting amongst each other. They say terrible things about each other. They spread lies and draw battle lines. Remember what I said about middle school?! While not everyone is this way, it can sure feel like it when you're in the middle of it all. And, to be honest, I don't want to be in the middle. I don't want to pick a side, or defend myself all the time. It is exhausting.
So lately, I've tried to keep my distance. At first, I didn't even notice I was doing it. I mean, I still thought about this friend and kept up with him through other people. I went places where they all might be, and fooled myself into thinking I was still being a good friend. But I was disengaged. Distant.
I've been so busy lately, I hadn't slowed down and taken the time to think about it. But the other night, at church, we had a prayer service. There were people singing hymns in the lobby, but other than the sweet echoes of their songs, the sanctuary was quiet. No distractions. Time to think and reflect. I was only a few feet in the door when I looked up and into the eyes of my friend.
It was a strange feeling. Guilt mixed with relief. Familiarity and a longing to catch up that I hadn't even known I had. I've felt these feelings before when running into an old friend. But this time it was different.
This was the friend...
I can not describe to you the feeling I had when I watched the video montage from the life of Christ and the Passion. (and yes, I know this is just Jim Caviezel, but still...) I didn't even know I had been missing Christ. And that phrase, missing Christ, can mean so many different things.
I didn't realize He was missing from my life- at least missing from the prominent relationship He ought to have.
I didn't realize all of those times I had been at the church, had been singing songs, teaching kids, leading my girls in their bedtime prayers, that I was missing the point. Somewhere along the way I had started to shut Him out because the tension among His people was more than I could bear.
But most importantly, I didn't realize that I was truly missing Him- my heart had been longing for something (Someone) absent and I didn't see it for all of the other sadness and darkness I had been muddling through. It makes more sense now- how can I dispel the darkness when I've distanced myself from the light.
Remember how I said at the beginning that I'm always trying to figure out who I am? It's because I feel so contradictory sometimes. Like, I can be terribly stubborn, but I am also very easily discouraged- I give up quickly. I have high hopes and believe the best, but I don't react very well when those hopes are crushed or people are at their worst. It is devastating to me. When Christians speak with venom about other people (church members, people groups, political officials, whatever) I want to scream for them to stop. And when they don't, I want to run & hide.
Unfortunately, hiding from them has led me to hide from Him. Putting up walls to protect myself from the frustrations found in the imperfect Church has blocked me off completely from the Head of the Church. I let imperfect people cloud my view of my "friend." Only He is much more than a friend. He is the Savior, the One whose resurrection we celebrate this week. He is the King of Kings, Lord of Lords, eternal, omnipotent, God and man, gracious and just. No man could represent Him, and it is unfair (to all parties involved) for me expect anyone to do so.
I'll be honest. The walls are just beginning to come down. I still don't really want to head out on a Women's Retreat or join a Bible Study, although I probably will. It's not because of my specific church. It's a good church, as churches go. This goes far beyond one church or even one denomination. There are things I'm still dealing with, things I wrote about here and here, for example, that make me feel like I can't just focus on Jesus in many places where He should be the only thing on which to focus. I can't just read the scripture; I have to pick a side. Or I have to filter through other peoples' baggage to find the Christ I know.
Or, as was most recently the case, I have to filter through my own baggage to find the Christ I've been missing.
I'm not writing this to be cheesy. And it's not written as an invitation for you to "come to the cross," although I do wish everyone could feel that relief I felt when I looked up and realized that those eyes- and His arms- would always be home. Even if I didn't realize I was feeling homesick, or even that I had wandered away at all.
I may be fickle, but He is true. My patience and hope might be easily dashed, but His love is unconditional. My friendships may be fading, but He is a much better friend than I can imagine.
And now, if this post was too deep for your liking, I offer this:
