I want to write about God’s change-everything love, yet every time I sit down to write, I find myself desperately wishing that I could write better.
My words, they fail.
I try to put my whole self into it-to throw my best at the page, but still the conventions get in the way, the rules of how I “should” write block my thoughts, stop the telling from going forward. To tell stories like these, to explain what I am feeling, I need to break out and be messy, I need to paint pictures that spill off the canvas, on the walls, splatter on the floor. I use a page, but these words of a God who is bigger than all this, they will not stand still, they want to jump off the paper and into the world around us. I run around the room and try to trap them, get them back in the story for you, but to often they are gone, faster than me.
There are a few moments when I am lucky, I sit down in this place, put my fingers on the keyboard and get lost, everything else falls away, looses focus.
Fading, slipping… Gone.
And then it’s just you and me here, alone, learning of a love that is bigger.
Do you want to hear a story? Do you want to journey together?
There is meaning in this place, beauty decorating these walls, spilling on the floors, splashed on your clothes.
But, again my words, they fail. All the good ones gone, they are faster than me.
I know this blog is not normal, not what like you find other places, and at times not even what you are looking for when you come here. This journey God has called us to doesn’t fit any molds, doesn’t stay in any boxes, and so this telling at times it’s choppy, hard to understand.
The truth is, for us it started small, we gave a little and then some more, and today we are still going-learning what it means to sell out for Him. We are not what we used to be any more, we are changed, changing, and God it seems has no respect for who it was that we thought we were, or wanted to be. His pictures are not ours.
He is teaching us to let go, to give it all to him, and to embrace our nothingness and his everything. Its humbling, stretching, and at times frustrating.
Before Jesus left this place he gave a commandment, he defined the mark we would wear, the symbol by what we would be known as Christians.
A new command I give unto you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this shall all men know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:34-35
My undying hope-my life’s passion-my deepest desire, is that we may learn to love like this, that we as Christians may be known by this love we share to others, and that it leaves no part of us unchanged as it flows through us out into this world.
His love is no ordinary love, all examples and metaphors we use to define the beauty that is Him are like using a picture to define the artist, telling of the creation to define the creator. He is beyond all telling.
And so despite all my trying, my words will always fall short, my prose will always fail. I only hope you leave and later notice some of the paint that splashed onto you while in this place, that you see it, remember this moment of simple beauty and stay changed. That I might have given you a gift not for a fleeting instant but forever. If I have done this, then I have accomplished what I came here for, my writing is sufficient, my task complete.