It’s been a rough summer. My allergies this year were weird. I’ve had hay-fever since the summer of my fifteenth year - the year I worked at the Faulkenberg’s, stumbling under a five gallon pack of RoundUp and chopping thistles in the middle of yellow fields of hay. My hay-fever normally manifests itself with watery, itchy eyes, violent sneezing and unexplainably large portions of uncontrollable mucus that end up spraying with the sneezes and nose blowing. I’ve developed a skill with this that comes in handy during on runs and bike rides. Plug a nostril, lean to the side while twisting my head and blow. Usually snot is deposited where I intend.
In any case - it’s normal. I get sneezy and snotty for a couple months and I’m done. This makes sense considering it started from over exposure to the aforementioned hay. A five foot, four inch, 110 pound, skinny kid wacking away at seven foot tall, angry thistles with a dull machete in a hay field produces prodigious clouds of hay pollen at the wacking site. When it first happened I honestly worried I was going to sneeze my brain out. With the amount of liquid leaving my skull, this seemed like a legitimate concern. With at least some portion of it still there, my head has endured the same condition every spring/summer for nearly 30 years. Unpleasant but bearable - especially considering other ailments I could be suffering from.
This year was different. No sneezing, no snot, no watery/itchy eyes. It all stayed in my skull, packing itself into my sinus cavities and refusing to move. The pressure made me dizzy and so very tired. My brain did not function well. You know that feeling you get with the flue - that stupid, disoriented feeling where the best choice always feels like bed? I had that feeling for months. I could barely function. In my particular case this brought on tremendous anxiety. At first, I didn’t link my condition to allergies. I’m still somewhat skeptical since it’s so different than my normal symptoms. But there it was.
Two big issues caused me deep subconscious worry. First, I have a house payment now. For three years, I’d been squatting and rattling around at the old PCR compound. Learning to appreciate God’s provision and be patient. I wanted out of there so bad - for so many reasons. But it was free and we had no where else to go. Both the old place and the new place sold with in days of each other (interesting timing). So we finally moved into our “own” home. Second, I finally felt free to move forward with my role as a neighborhood missionary. Since I was done packing and planning to leave - since I now lived in a neighborhood, I could start doing what I’d been dreaming of for a year and a half. Invest myself in the lives of my neighbors and the life of my community. I had a community! Battle Ground is much more than I had hoped and I love it!
So there I was with a context and a mission. I started with gusto. I even wrote a book on loving your neighbor (Matthew 22:39). I put together a workshop, presentations and a website. Away I went... Until fear and anxiety crept in me. Dizzy, disoriented, tired and barely able to function - I spent the summer struggling to generate income and keep my family from noticing that I was a zombie. I’m not sure I pulled off either. I did not love my neighbors or barely think about them. I avoided them in fact, in lieu of my lazy boy. My condition felt so debilitating I feared for my long-term ability to provide for my family and carry out my mission. My fear was more debilitating than the dizziness and fatigue. It’s hard to lean on yourself when you are dizzy.
God spoke to me about several things. I’m listing three here. He chided me for my independence. I preach community. I’m passionate about sharing life, relying on each other and being dependent on the Spirit of God to bring life to our connected lives. But I’m terrible at it. I do everything myself. God told me I think about myself too much. I focus on my life, my circumstances, my feelings, my problems, my, me, mine, myself, I. And I’m not that nice to me. I forgive my failings and weaknesses poorly. How can I love my neighbor as myself if I’m not really even nice to myself. It’s embarrassing. It’s a strange cooperative. I am no longer part of a community. This is another thing. Maybe the most important one.
Back in the days of PCR my circumstances were far more stressful than my life is now. Significantly so. Huge dollar amounts, twenty employees and all their intermingled lives, creditors, customers, buildings, breaking equipment, bad weather, looming economic tremors and something terrifying on the horizon moving closer with hungry aggression. But I was a part of a community. My closest friend shared a back porch and a mission with me. My PCR family cared about me and me about them. We worked, worried, prayed, played, celebrated, fought and laughed together. It was safe even though there was more immediate danger. We were safe because we had each other. We watched each others backs and were willing to suffer to protect what we fought for - each other, our community.
That’s gone. PCR is no more. They all left and the mission flatlined on January 17th, 2008. They walked out the door and never came back. Shortly after that Meleea and I decided for multiple reasons to ease out of our long time church community at Summit View. They did not ask us to stay. They did not fight to keep us or even notice we were gone. I do not blame the church. Those relationships that were connected by more than Sunday attendance remained. My independence made me look unapproachable. It is what it is. There is plenty wrong with the institution of church and with me. This is true of all churches and all people. It doesn’t make any sense at all to look for the perfect church or the perfect person. They are both only found in Jesus. God loves both of us and is at work to bring beauty out of our faltering attempts to please him even while we protect our own agendas. His life is in the church and in people in astoundingly wonderful, mysterious ways like blooming trees in the desert.
This summer I found myself alone and very afraid with no mission. I felt abandoned by God. I prayed, I worshipped, I read my bible and lots of good Christian books. I tried not to sin too much. I trusted and and I waited. I even went on a solitary retreat. Nothing worked. I could not feel God. I could see him acting and I got messages from him but I felt alone even when I could see him at work. I felt alone. Alone is a terrible thing. Alone is wrong for a human. God made us incomplete by ourselves. We cannot grow or function in a healthy way alone. Even if we were sinless this would still be true (Genesis 2:18).
In the story of the first people, in many places in the epic, overarching story, God brings people together. He forms a team and sends them, gives them each other and an adventure. Adam and Eve got each other and the mission of fruitfulness, increase and rulership. Noah and his family got a bunch of animals, an escape from terrible wrath and a similar directive. Abram and Sarai and Lot left Heran with some sheep and an unimaginable promise of a nation, fame, a blessing and a hope. Moses got people and a mission. David did. Nehemiah did. These are all my ancestors. Their mission is mine. Their promise is my inheritance. When it came true, Jesus did what he said what he would do. Now he lives in me. He has formed us together into his body, glued together and directed with special ability by the powerful-beyond-comprehension Spirit he gave us. I am not alone and I am not without mission.
He gathered his followers together before he left. They waited and he spoke, “All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me.” That’s a lot of authority, all of it I think. None left over. And think about this. These guys, the ones who walked the dusty roads, fished, ate and rested together with Jesus. They watched him heal and cast out demons, raise the dead and preach the weirdest stuff they ever heard. They saw him arrested, humiliated and killed. They... imagine it - saw him alive again with holes in his hands, feet and side. They heard him speak and ate breakfast together again. He hugged Peter and reassured Thomas. When he said “all authority... they probably believed it deep in their bones. God had brought them to a place of ready faith. He pauses after this announcement and says, “therefore...” If there was ever someone who we should listen to. If there was ever a time we should listen, this is it. What does the risen Christ choose to say immediately after he has looked into your broken but fiercely alive heart and told you that he and he alone is completely in charge. You stand, gathered with the most closely bound band of brothers ever formed and listen intently. “Therefore, go and make disciples...baptize, teach them to do what we have done, I will be with you as you go.
Dry spells and fear are to be expected. I’ve asked God to lead me. I’ve prayed many prayers where I (foolishly) gave him my mind, body and soul and asked him to make me into what he intended. I’ve asked for my life to have eternal significance even at the cost of temporal comfort. In all the stories, characters learn their true situation in the midst of pain, difficulty, confusion and misdirected effort. The church was formed in the strange mix of depravity and grace (Acts 2:41). It should be no surprise that if I gain any momentum in my pursuit of God that at some point I will trip over my own stumbling feet and sometimes fall violently. My best stories and coolest scars are from the cuts, breaks and abrasions I’ve gotten from these falls. Dammit I wish it could be another way! I really, really hate falling. It hurts and it is so miserable waiting to heal. Scabs suck. Sitting around waiting to knit and going crazy trying to figure out patience is a tremendous interruption.
I’m not sure I’m done with this one. I hope so. I’ve felt a lot better the last few weeks. I spent a couple hours with my friend Mark yesterday. We reminded each other of things we needed to remember. I’m hopeful of a couple different options for connection and some relationships I can share life in. However long it might take, I’ve got a better chance of feeling the presence of Jesus if I’m making disciples with those he has given me to love and be on mission with.
I pray that he comes near enough to each of us today that we can feel his breath. I hope desperately to know consciously that all that exists relies on his direction. I want so badly for us to hear his voice and feel his hand on our shoulders as he tells us what to do. If we want this, we need to go - share what Jesus has given us, show whoever he brings how we do what has shown us to do.
Love him
Love your neighbor
Love yourself
It will all work out in the end. It’s working out right now.
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