ask me how i am.

yesterday, i ran into this guy who went to high school with me.
truth be told, i saw him from across the room, assumed he wouldn't remember me, and bashfully looked the other way. but he shouted "hello" an auditorium-length away and threw his arms up in a boisterous wave.
obviously, i had to match his enthusiasm, so i walked over to him. smiley and enthusiastic and said hello up close and personal.

i asked him how he'd been.
good, thank you.
he asked me how i'd been.
i'm okay. ugh. so-so, it depends on the day. i don't know. (shut-up, laura, shut-up). i mean, i'll be okay, thanks for asking.

i just couldn't stop being overly honest with him. i literally hadn't seen the poor guy in 11 years and i was treating this random encounter like a priestly confessional.

i was feeling particularly gloomy at that moment because we had just finished hearing John Perkins speak. John Perkins is the granddaddy of Biblical-based Urban Studies. Everything anyone else says about incarnational urban living is just a reinvention of what God or Dr. Perkins already said.

i have a master's in urban studies. Dr. Perkins wrote my textbooks. i planned on making a difference by now. i planned on being inspiring and reconciling the masses. right now, i'm doing little, and find the reminder of my stale-passion offensive. i can hardly even find a job.

My point here is not to conjure up pity. i'm not okay with how i am. i am not okay with where i am. so, if you ask me, i'll tell you i'm so-so, i'm okay, i'm struggling, i've been better.
meanwhile, i'll be trying really hard to find a way to cultivate a life steeped in depth and passion and purpose.

cliches, i know.

but i keep asking myself, "if my life consistently lets me down and i never feel like i've found a place where i can thrive and i struggle till my last day to feel successful at anything, will i be able to live a life of purpose regardless?"

i cannot answer "fine, thank you" until i can answer "yes" to that.

my proverbial box

we spend our lives carrying around every raw secret about us in our personal proverbial box. we tuck these boxes neatly under our armpits, and walk with them fully sealed up tidy and safe.
raw friendship happens when we settle into someone enough that we start exposing the inside of the box.
unloading our stories and vulnerabilities and opinions.
pulling it all out.
one-by-one.
putting it on the table.
therapeutically letting light expose shame and darkness and embarrassment and pride.
letting someone in enough to want to push them out. and then inviting them to stay uncomfortably close.

we need to let others in. this is good. this is healthy. this is life-giving. we must necessarily let others into our souls. into our boxes.

i venture to say that this is the worst thing about being single. no one is ceremoniously committed to know the contents of my box. i need people to know. and, selfishly, i need people to care.

i just spent the last month unloading my box. i was with a friend who knows me better than anyone. and our friendship is a wonderful thing.
but, as easy as it was to unload my box with her, she is now six states away again. and i realize that i am still prone to pack it all away again and pretend that i am fine.

don't believe the lie, none of us are fine.

in spite of me

there are certain chord progressions that bring me closer to God. sometimes songs that have nothing to do with him push me into his presence because they move my soul, and remind me of his greatness. there are photographs and sunsets and meals that do it too. when life comes rushing at me, startling me into inspiration, i find that i can't help myself from wanting to worship.
because, though the song or the recipe may not be the inspired word of God, it does remind me of my humanity, which in contrast to God's godliness, stirs in me a reverence and love for him.
Yes, worship in the praise-band-hand-clapping-power-point-words-on-the-screen sense is worship that i can love as well. but, sometimes i wonder if i love that kind only because it is tradition and nostalgic for me. that kind of worship moves my soul, but sometimes it just amplifies my stale heart. but, worship that is unplanned, unprovoked and full-hearted is the worship that jumps out at me from real life and gives me no choice but to whisper love to God. it explodes out of me.
the smattering of great things that saturate my every day life cause me to worship God. i see things and i can't help myself...the only possible reaction is to raise God up.
even when i feel like i am doing life so poorly. even when i feel so emotionally low. i am able to find things that cause me to want nothing more than to honor and love God in that moment.

and i know this all. it is a lesson from the basics of childhood sunday school, but i forget it often: even though i am not worthy of God, he accepts my worship with arms wide. in spite of me.

2010.

2010. a tired year for me.
it was a year marked by waiting and impatience.
a year layered in reminders of things i already knew...
but how quickly selfishness blinds me.
i relearned that patience is harder when vision is dim.
vision is harder when hope is lacking.
hope is harder if bitterness is king.

the year reminded me that selflessness will never come naturally apart from grace.
and that God is plentiful in his distribution of grace, of mercy, of love.
for me.
for my friends.
for life.

if i am bitter, i will not grow.
if i dwell on what i lack, i will always lack in joy.
if i want to be better, i have to stop being what i have learned makes me worse.

a good day: future. present. past.

a good day?
for me, i easily conjure up delicate visions of future good days. i imagine future coffee dates with friends i miss. i imagine getting a job that's finally satisfying. i imagine love. i imagine rekindling passion for God that pales so often these days. i imagine enthusiasm again. for a visionary like me, it is quite effortless to imagine the things to come. i see images of a more rosy-cheeked version of me, doing lots of skipping and jumping and sappy-song-singing.
and then i see a reality check.
the good days of now? that's harder. the pessimism comes out of nowhere. i forget so easily where i come from and where i am going. i glance around in present time and see lots and lots of glasses sitting around; all of them half-empty. i see more of the same...sitting, waiting, wondering, wishing.
i see "everyone else" happy.
i see "everyone else" successful.
i see the bitterness, the frustration, the resent swelling without warning in my heart.
and then i remember the good days of past.
the glory days of college, the wonderful moments of loving life and loving God. i remember that i have been given much. i remember many loving friends circling me like cheerful vulchers, waiting to overdose me with appreciation, with love, with fullness of life.
and there it is.
i know a good day when i see it. yet i tend to forget that God is as good today as he was yesterday. he is as good today as he will be tomorrow. he is not oblivious to my frustrations or to my pain. he is not torturing me with silence, he is allowing me to become refined.
for, i would rather suffer my whole life and be better for it then drink up a blissful (but meaningless) life that leads to a shallow grave.