On Understanding

You say you want to understand, but understanding is a lot of work.  If you knew all that was involved, would you still feel the same way?  I so desperately want to be understood.  I want to believe you, but I’m afraid.  I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed.  You’ll never understand me.  I can’t say I’ll ever understand myself, and when one thing comes to make sense to you, I’ll change.  But, I’m not sure you really want to understand me.  I’m not sure you know all that is involved.  Professionals, they’re paid to listen, but you, I feel bad taking your time.  I’ll keep buying you supper because I feel that somehow I need to give back to you.  I need to make every hour we spend together worth it for you, and I can’t believe that you’d find it worthwhile, just hanging out with me.  I love you so much, that’s why I’m so afraid.  I’m afraid that you just put up with me.  I don’t want to annoy you.  I don’t want to force you to listen to me.  I’m selfish.  I love talking about myself, I love being with you, so I’ll try not to talk about myself too much, because I’m afraid I’ll push you away.  I wish this wasn’t all about me, but like I said, I’m selfish.  I’m not sure I have anything to offer you.  Can I buy you lunch?

The Real Me

“Just bee yourself.”  I think that is from some Disney movie. 

I feel a certain amount of pressure to be myself around people, especially around those who know me.  Society teaches that we should be true to ourselves.  I think the whole of elementary curriculum these days is based around that.  I feel like I keep being told that I should be open with my friends, especially those with whom I am closest.  I had this fear today.  What if the real me isn’t beautiful.  What if no one would like the real me?  The real me is selfish and depressed.  Would anyone want to hang out with such a person?  The real me wants to be the centre of attention.  The real me will talk and talk, and you won’t find her very interesting.  What if the real me is ugly.  The real me is lazy.  The real me is unkind.  The real me is hurting, and quick to hurt others.  The real me wants you around when I want someone around, and wants you to get out of my face when I want to be alone.  The real me wants to curl up in a ball and cry, and if you won’t say a word or ask any questions I might let you come and put your arm around me, or I might get up and run away.  The real me is unpredictable.  What if no one wants to be friends with the real me?  It almost seems wrong to be the real me around other people.  I think it would be unfair to them.  I fear that people wouldn’t know how to respond to the real me.  I don’t know that the world is yet ready for the real me, or maybe the real me is not yet ready for the world.  The real me has some learning, maturing and growing to do.

But I am tired of being fake.

“How are you?”

“Good.”

But I am not good.  My insides are all hurting, but does anyone really care?  Does anyone have time to care?  Maybe first I’ll try to learn to be honest with myself, and then I’ll try to be honest with God.  After that I’ll have to decide if it is worth it to be honest with the world.

The real me is ugly, but the real me is longing for friendship.  The real me is desperate for attention.  The real me yearns for comfort and the real me is tired of hiding.  The thing is that I like having friends.  It is so much easier just to say that I am "good".

copy cat...

I was reading this post:

http://withoutjah-nothin.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-funny-that-i-consider-myself-artist.html

on my friend Kellen's blog, and realised how i feel very much the same as she does, though regarding a different thing. I copied her post almost completely, just changing a few (but significant) words:

It's funny that I consider myself a Christian. Faith is a constant mind-battle for me.
I do think that I have some measure of gifting to theologically reason and it's something that I love to do, but at the same time, I have never been really affected by a spiritual experience. I strive to fill my days with meaningful conversations that have the potential to move people, while I myself have never been moved (to any significant degree).
I feel like a hypocrite; that is my struggle.
Don't get me wrong, I know that it's possible for God to make an impact on someone. I just have a hard time believing that the impact could ever be huge, even though I know that it can. There is a small disconnect between my knowledge and my understanding...

Do you know Joe?

The other day I was talking with my friend. She knows Joe, and so do I. I know about Joe’s love for animals, the hardships he faced as a child, and in losing his wife, and his distrust of people, because he has been let down. Joe lives in the inner-city, eats at the Mustard Seed Soup Kitchen and lives without a job.
When I was at the Farmers’ Market this week, the musician asked me if I knew Joe. Of course I do, and I was about to tell him so until I realised he might not be talking about the same Joe. The Joe he knows has his own story, his own definition of success and hopefully someone to trust.

If we are the body of Christ, then I am not sure how to trust him.

What do you think?