WAITING ALONE

Here's something I wrote back in 2008, unedited:

Well, I'm almost fully moved into my new studio apartment in Evanston, IL. I'll try to post photos later on.

Last night I was given the privilege of eating some Lou Malnati's pizza. It was delicious. (Maybe better than Giordano's.)

However, during the early part of the dinner, I noticed a woman sitting by herself at a table near ours. I was burdened by that scene, because I wanted so badly for her not to be stood up by someone. So, for a good 20 minutes I made sure to monitor her situation in the corner of my left eye, and for a good 20 minutes my fear that she would be stood up grew bigger and bigger. With it, my pity towards her ballooned.

To my relief and, strangely, happiness, her party eventually came (late, it seemed). Two men and a woman, with one man walking over to her side of the table and kissing her gently on the lips.

Disaster avoided, burden lifted, pity put to shame.

I was glad.

The one thing I noticed was her unwavering self-assurance. The woman never looked worried as she sat alone at the table. She seemed sure that her table would soon be filled, no matter how delayed.

It seems to me that this is an accurate depiction of what Christians appear to be to some non-believers. We spend so all our lives waiting for our friend to show up and rescue us from our loneliness. We (should) wait with confidence because of the pattern of faithfulness that he has already shown, and has promised to show.

"Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God." - 2 Corinthians 3:4 (ESV)

"For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end." - Hebrews 3:14 (ESV)

Non-believers doubt that he will ever join us (or that he's even real), and some point and mock, while others just shake their heads and pity us.

I hope that we will be able to wait as confidently as that woman. The reactions we get from those around us do not matter one smidgen. We are only meant to wait with full assurance, patience, and joy.

However, this isn't where our part stops. We are even charged to eagerly and urgently invite others to join our table. It is our responsibility to tell them that our friend is worth more than their patronization, and that he renders their sympathy unnecessary.

We'll see many join the ranks of the empty tables, while others will lose faith and leave. But a steady course must be maintained. Our good friend will surely join us soon.

And in the end, a gentle kiss will be found.

HAPPINESS VS. JOY

"The difference between shallow happiness and a deep, sustaining joy is sorrow. Happiness lives where sorrow is not. When sorrow arrives, happiness dies. It can't stand pain. Joy, on the other hand, rises from sorrow and therefore can withstand all grief. Joy, by the grace of God, is the transfiguration of suffering into endurance, and of endurance into character, and of character into hope--and the hope that has become our joy does not (as happiness must for those who depend upon it) disappoint us." - Walter Wangerin Jr.

FAIR-WEATHER JOY

One of my co-workers walked into the office this morning sporting a New York Giants hat. He wasn't alone: I saw a few people wearing Giants apparel in and around our building today. It was notable because in my approximately 1.8 years working in this office building, I don't recall ever seeing a single person wearing Giants gear. Then there were the countless people on Facebook changing their profile photos to show Giants logos and players.

I understood why this was, of course. The Giants won a thrilling game last night and earned a spot in the Super Bowl. The team's fans, though contributing nothing to the thing they were celebrating, had a right to boast and be happy. I couldn't help but grin at the sight of emerging Giants fans today, both online and off-line. While I didn't doubt their allegiance, I wondered why these fans didn't display such conspicuous pride for their team until today.

Then I began turning this lens on myself, the only fair thing to do. I began searching my own heart for this inclination toward timely, fair-weather pride, and it took me less than a minute to find it.

There's not a shade of doubt in my head or my heart that I love God. Though my actions and inactivity, my words and silence often betray otherwise, I do love him. He is the only good part of my life. No, actually, he is much more than that. Exclude "the only good part of" and that sentence rings truer. To call anything "good" apart from him is akin to calling today's weather "cupcakes." It's nonsensical, for apart from him I am not.

I am also certain that God has assured victory for me, and not an incremental one that takes me to yet another battle. He has defeated death -- the final opponent -- in all its forms. Depressions that seek to murder my soul, perversions that seek to rape my thoughts, false whispers that seek to seduce my pride -- these, and more, are all defanged. My God has destroyed all my opposition, everything that would seek to drag me away from my love to unimaginable perdition. Not only did he win, but he confers the benefits of his victory to me, though I had not a single mite to do with it. No, not even that: He grants me its glorious benefits though I was a lifeless heap of evil on the wrong side of the war. It's as if he conquered the opposite trench, animated one of the adversary's sand bags and awarded it a victor's homecoming.

Yes, all this he did for me. Yet, somehow, I fail to express sufficient joy in this. There are those rare days when I do sense this victory in a very real way, and on those occasions I may wear my allegiance to my good Father on my sleeve. But on most days, I do not sense this and go on with my life as one who does not have this victory to beat his chest about.

So, no, I don't scoff at Giants fans for donning their hats, jackets and new profile photos today. If not now, when?

I only wonder how such a small victory in an inconsequential game could draw such joy and pride from some, when an infinitely greater triumph in the only arena of life that matters could draw so little out of me.

For everyone who has been born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith. Who is it that overcomes the world except the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? This is he who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not by the water only but by the water and the blood. And the Spirit is the one who testifies, because the Spirit is the truth. (1 John 5:4-6 ESV)

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33 ESV)

YOUR MOVE, CHIEF

Here's something I wrote back in 2009, unedited:

I was riding the Purple Line express back home today and realized that I really enjoy getting those quick peeks into the buildings that the train passes in the downtown area.

I like catching glimpses of people running on treadmills, boxing heavy bags, studying for exams, working in their cubicles... I don't know why really. I just like it.

Then I realized that my knowledge of these people was limited to those fleeting seconds that I was allowed to see them. The woman on the treadmill is...a runner. The guy boxing the heavy bag is...a boxer. The people studying in the Kaplan room are...students. The people working in cubicles are...office drones.

But would I ever dare to claim that I knew these people? Absolutely not!

Then why do I do this with God?

Why do I presume to know God, sufficiently, after just...a good sermon on a Sunday, a good time spent reading the Bible and praying, a good retreat or revival...after such short, meager portions?

Our infinite God can't be so easily and quickly known - but our comfort is that he knows us. This is why, I think, Paul paused to clarify his meaning in Galatians 4:9, when he said, "But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable principles?" (NIV, emphasis added)

He knows us - not in snapshots, but in an unflinching fullness. He sees our best, worst and most mundane moments and still, he loves us.

How can I be so content with such brief glimpses of this God?

In closing, I would like to share this clip (my favorite) from "Good Will Hunting," which, I think, highlights my point. It includes some coarse language, but we're all adults here.

ALONE

Here's something I wrote back in 2008, unedited:

"You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created." - C.S. Lewis

Living alone has been mostly enjoyable so far. The pros have considerably outweighed the cons. It might have to do with the newness of it all, since I have never lived alone before, but still, it is pleasing to me.

I get to bask in my introvertedness for most of my evenings, and I like that.

I've heard people say they want to live alone because they desire to be away from people that annoy them at home.

While I am not one of those people, I have found that the appeal of being away from the annoyance of other people is a fleeting, if not false benefit of living by yourself.

I can only speak for myself, but I have found that the more I am alone, the more I annoys me.  Terrible grammar, I know, but it's the best way I know how to say it.

Especially as a student who is constantly being humbled and challenged, there are many sober realizations as I look into that proverbial mirror, which has become ubiquitous somehow.

I constantly wonder - after more than 26 years of living, is this all I have become? Is this the furthest point I've reached so far in my life? Mentally, physically, spiritually, is this the zenith of my existence-to-date? Is this the return on all the investments poured into me?

Immediate sadness, regret and resignation imbues my heart, and at once I become irritated with me.

I realize that no matter where I am, no matter who I am with or not with, I am my own permanent roommate. I cannot get rid of me or leave me and instead choose another me.

Still, I begrudgingly count this as a benefit to living alone.

Because in this isolated condition, each passing minute feels more measured, deliberate and meaningful as I become familiar with what is approaching.

I cannot help but to bear with me, and I am led to believe that God also cannot help but to bear with me in the same manner, though he is glad to.

Just as I am alone with me, God, unbounded by time and place, is alone with me, every second of my miserable being.

The difference, I am trying to understand, is while I am unhappy to be stuck with myself, God is infinitely happy to have me as his - not because of who I appear to be in my own eyes, but because of who I actually am in his.

The rest of my years will be mostly the same - I will continue to be disappointed with who I am, and he will continue to be pleased with who I am becoming and have already become.

My joy is knowing that his pleasure will eventually meet with my discouragement - and his sentiment will win and overcome mine, and will evenbecome mine.

It will be a delight like none other I have ever known, because it will, for the first time, be absent of me. That joy will finally be one that is perfectly calibrated and wonderfully aimed.

The struggle to embrace this thought allows me to dig further underneath what I see and to hold my head a bit higher as I tolerate me, alone.

"This is not a perfect illustration, of course. But it may give just a glimpse of what I believe to be the truth. God is not hurried along in the Time-stream of this universe any more than an author is hurried along in the imaginary time of his own novel. He has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created. When Christ died, He died for you individually just as much as if you had been the only man in the world." - C.S. Lewis

"They say of some temporal suffering, "No future bliss can make up for it," not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory." - C.S. Lewis

JOSH GARRELS: 'RISE'

I hung my head, for the last time
In surrender and despair
Before I’m dead, I’ll take the last climb
Up the mountain, face my fears
The time has come, to make a choice
Use my voice for the love of every man
My mind's made up, never again
Never again, will I turn round

Though they may surround me like lions
And crush me on all sides
I may fall, but I will rise
Not by my might, or my power, or by the strength of swords
Only through, your love, my lord
All we’ve lost, will be, restored

Take courage sons, for we must go under
The heart of darkness, and set them free
But don’t lose heart when you see the numbers
There’s no measure for, the faith we bring
It’s given us, to overcome
If we run, where the spirit calls us on
The greatest things, have yet to come
With the dawn, we will rise

Though they may surround us like lions
And crush us on all sides
we may fall, but we will rise
Not by my might, or my power, or by the strength of swords
Only through, your love, my lord
All we’ve lost, will be, restored