I love the words to this song - All That I Can Say, by David Crowder Band
Lord I'm tired
So tired from walking
And Lord I'm so alone
And Lord the dark
Is creeping in
Creeping up
To swallow me
I think I'll stop
Rest here a while
And didn't You see me cry'n?
And didn't You hear me call Your name?
Wasn't it You I gave my heart to?
I wish You'd remember
Where you sat it down
Chorus:
And this is all that I can say right now
i know it's not much
And this is all that I can give
yeah that's my everything
Bridge:
I didn't notice You were standing here
I didn't know that
That was You holding me
I didn't notice You were cry'n too
I didn't know that
That was You washing my feet
I often feel that way... that I really don't have much to say except that I need You. I need Your arms and I need Your help and I need to see You and feel You and know You are there. And I need to see past me. Usually, seeing past me is the biggest problem. How on earth do I get so big... take up so much space, that I can't see beyond me, myself, and I? That what You are just kind of disappears... until You sit me down and show me something far bigger... far greater... and far more worthy of attention. And then... I end up consumed by how small I am... again, coming back to me. Notice the pattern here? Feeling a little tired of it.
And didn't You see me cry'n?
And didn't You hear me call Your name?
Wasn't it You I gave my heart to?
I wish You'd remember
Where you sat it down
but...
I didn't notice You were standing here
I didn't know that
That was You holding me
I didn't notice You were cry'n too
I didn't know that
That was You washing my feet
You are worthy. Teach me to pay attention. And all of those little needs end up taken care of naturally when I sit and listen to Your Word wash over, cleaning my head, my hands, and my heart.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
What does it mean to be authentic? To be real? Candid, honest, open... What does it mean to have integrity? How closely connected are these concepts - to be authentic and to have integrity?
In my mind, it has always been that you cannot have one without the other.
I have a lot of experience with masks. I spent a huge part of my life wearing them - all painted perfectly to show the face that my superiors or peers wanted to see. I tried to please everyone. I tried to hide behind the masks and show a smile at all times because I knew that no one likes to see the tears or the snot on your face or the vomit in the toliet or hear the cries in the night. No one enjoys that stuff... so why show it? Seriously, why show what breaks my heart when no one really needs to know anyway? They can't fix it. Right?
But then... well, something big happened. SOMEONE happened, actually. Someone who taught me that it is ok to not be ok. It is ok to be sick, to hurt, to cry, to scream, to have a mess. To be a mess. It is ok to ask for help. And it is ok to show those parts of yourself. The trick, is allowing the ones who see the reality to also be there for you - helping you gain the strength, the courage to step out of that reality into what God has for you... into something that is somehow, less broken, less painful, and less messy... until gradually, you look around the now clean room and wonder what the hell happened to all the stuff you had tossed about or carefully stored away. It is all swept out, packed up, dumped in the trash, and new things are in their place... and you realize, damn, this is so much better... why didn't I go to Him before?
He taught me that it is ok to not be alright and it is ok to hurt and it is ok to talk about it and to show people. And that as long as the people I am showing are solidly built on His foundation, they will be able to help me through. And love. And discipline. And care enough to dig deeper and be the body that pulls you out of that muck and quick sand.
It is ok to not be ok. It is not ok to stay that way. And it is not ok to hide behind your mask saying it is all fine when your eyes betray your lies. It is not ok to pretend away the pain of life and push aside the brothers and sisters who care enough to reach out and listen.
I was drawn to LeTourneau because for the first time in my life, when someone asked me how I was doing, they stopped. They turned. And they looked me in the eye and they listened. I froze. I did not know how to respond. What? You mean... you want an answer to that question? You must be joking. No one actually wants to know how you are. They just ask to be polite. At least in my world. Until that point. I learned something new there... I learned to only ask if I mean it. And I learned to expect a candid response... something real - where the eyes and the actions and the words all line up to convey reality and not a story.
I am tired of masquerade balls. I am tired of pretty faces. I am tired of smiles that only reach halfway. I am ready to meet some eyes. Ready to see some hearts. And ready to share mine...
In my mind, it has always been that you cannot have one without the other.
I have a lot of experience with masks. I spent a huge part of my life wearing them - all painted perfectly to show the face that my superiors or peers wanted to see. I tried to please everyone. I tried to hide behind the masks and show a smile at all times because I knew that no one likes to see the tears or the snot on your face or the vomit in the toliet or hear the cries in the night. No one enjoys that stuff... so why show it? Seriously, why show what breaks my heart when no one really needs to know anyway? They can't fix it. Right?
But then... well, something big happened. SOMEONE happened, actually. Someone who taught me that it is ok to not be ok. It is ok to be sick, to hurt, to cry, to scream, to have a mess. To be a mess. It is ok to ask for help. And it is ok to show those parts of yourself. The trick, is allowing the ones who see the reality to also be there for you - helping you gain the strength, the courage to step out of that reality into what God has for you... into something that is somehow, less broken, less painful, and less messy... until gradually, you look around the now clean room and wonder what the hell happened to all the stuff you had tossed about or carefully stored away. It is all swept out, packed up, dumped in the trash, and new things are in their place... and you realize, damn, this is so much better... why didn't I go to Him before?
He taught me that it is ok to not be alright and it is ok to hurt and it is ok to talk about it and to show people. And that as long as the people I am showing are solidly built on His foundation, they will be able to help me through. And love. And discipline. And care enough to dig deeper and be the body that pulls you out of that muck and quick sand.
It is ok to not be ok. It is not ok to stay that way. And it is not ok to hide behind your mask saying it is all fine when your eyes betray your lies. It is not ok to pretend away the pain of life and push aside the brothers and sisters who care enough to reach out and listen.
I was drawn to LeTourneau because for the first time in my life, when someone asked me how I was doing, they stopped. They turned. And they looked me in the eye and they listened. I froze. I did not know how to respond. What? You mean... you want an answer to that question? You must be joking. No one actually wants to know how you are. They just ask to be polite. At least in my world. Until that point. I learned something new there... I learned to only ask if I mean it. And I learned to expect a candid response... something real - where the eyes and the actions and the words all line up to convey reality and not a story.
I am tired of masquerade balls. I am tired of pretty faces. I am tired of smiles that only reach halfway. I am ready to meet some eyes. Ready to see some hearts. And ready to share mine...
