My yearning to be noticed by other people is vain and sinful. The Lord notices me. He keeps me going without my understanding and even realizing of it. Just as He told Tommy who in turn shared with Watermark: I am to be an adjective, not a noun. My life is supposed to describe God, not be its own entity. My being is found in His glory. My life is given to me when I give it to Him.

This does not mean that others were right in what they said. They were wrong, but that should not even matter. Other people are accountable before God and themselves, and I cannot control them. I am not to control them, as not even God controls them. I am to let others choose as He has let us choose. I am to be like Him.

Every time I learn something about God, it is always so much simpler than I try to make it. Be the Lord’s. Don’t attempt to make others do the same. Just be sure that you, yourself, are the Lord’s. The only being who can take that from you is yourself. So choose to be His. It’s a decision.

He is so good… beyond even our understanding of good. He simply is good.

But it feels like no one hears us.

We hear each other.

God hears us.

I feel like we’re fighting a tidal wave. It just sweeps us backward until we crack our heads on rocks.

I mean, seriously. How many times have we said that we don’t want to be superficial? We don’t want to be like those mega churches that are all about image. Yet here we are, saving face. It’s like we focus on one part of following Christ so much that we forget about others.

My wife and I allowed other Christians tell us how they believed that God disapproved of what we were doing. This has happened so many times. We allowed them to talk with us, pray for us, counsel us. We stopped and tried hard to do this because they were bold enough to speak what they believed. We trusted them. We knew they loved us and were helping us.

Yet…

When we eventually say, “Hey, we think that what you’re doing is wrong,” we are considered to be negative, trying to cause trouble… mean, rude, rash. Really, it has left us dumb-founded. ”Here, I am going to clean up your crap but don’t you dare touch mine!”

I feel like we are chum scrubbers; we are the algae-eaters in the fish bowl. We are expected to just eat all the shit we see to keep the bowl pretty. Maybe the bowl shouldn’t be pretty. Maybe our image is what has made the church we see today so unreliable… untrustworthy… deceitful. Maybe eating all this shit is bad for our bodies; or Body, in this case.

It’s like the Christian music fest tonight. The image has just changed to a bunch of screaming guitars and skinny guys bellowing out their lungs. I heard three bands say the exact same line: “Just so you all know, the only reason we’re up here is Jesus Christ.” The church is trying on a new mask.

We’re all fuck-ups. Jesus said we are; therefore, we are. I know you have a mess; I see it. It’s just as bad as my mess was when you helped me and just as bad as another mess I probably have. All we’re trying to do is love you by helping you avoid future disaster. Just trust us. We see it. But our love has been twisted to make us out to be trouble-makers.

This is how we make peace with everyone. We love them. Love has never been all smiles. Who is going to let their friend ride off a cliff if they know it’s coming? I will scream my head off until you hear me.

This all boiled down to: We committed to a year of serving, but my wife has been asked to not serve. Predicament.

“Mess? What mess?”

I’ll start by describing my usual day. I awake to my cell phone’s MIDI rendition of a hard rock song, cowbell included, and my dog’s demand for the morning belly rub. After one reconfiguration of the clock’s alarm to allow me fifteen more minutes, I realize I don’t have the time and fall to my feet. I pace in the backyard, avoiding the most evil ants God has created while my precious pooch finds a home for her urine. Of course, second by second I have to constantly remind her the reason we’re in the backyard. Once she gets the point and does her thing, I finish with the normal morning you probably participated in today.

Then there is Work with a capital W. I arrive at the office, begging God to not allow my weak mind to forget my purpose throughout my experiences of the day. Five minutes later I am beating myself up for laughing with my coworkers’ mocking of the crazy horse lady. For the rest of my day, my mind is beaten down by hundreds of issues that probably shouldn’t be issues and could easily be ignored because they really don’t matter… but must be resolved. I take comfort in the fact that these faux issues are my faux job security.

I leave, feeling disappointed that my day was God-less. I drive home asking forgiveness, then get distracted by my unending thoughts. I walk in my home and I see my wife, and I feel joyful tears drowning my heart in ecstasy. Suddenly I remember how the day truly goes…

I purposely breathe at my desk, because the air has been given to me without my deserving. I purposely hear what people are saying to me, because they were made as I was, have feelings as I do, and breathe the same God-given air as I have been given. I purposely speak in a tone that tells others that I really do care, because they crave love and acceptance in the same way I do. I purposely turn my eyes away from the papers and the screen to look them in the eyes, because Work will wait for a human soul’s yearnings. I purposely high-five the stressed out mother-of-three, because she laughs when she least expects it and loves it as much as I do.

I realize, day after day, that my worries about following the Lord are purely wastes. He knows my heart and directs me even when I’m not paying attention. I am just asking him to help me pay more attention.