What Now?

Let me tell you a secret.

It was a revelation that came to me this afternoon while standing in the field outside a small, white framed church on the borderlands of McLennan and Coryell counties in the rural community of Osage, TX. (http://www.tsha.utexas.edu/handbook/online/articles/view/OO/hno17.html) For a few days now I've been frustrated at the lack of inspiration coming to me in my writing life. So, having a day off, I decided to do something that I did often my first year in Waco, but haven't done since. I put gas in my car and I drove. I drove until I found a county road that took me away from even the smallest of towns and I followed it until I found a place to get out and walk around. About ten miles off of a major highway I happened upon New Canaan Baptist Church. New Canaan. Intersting name. The New Promised Land. I got out, walked around, and spent the better part of an hour just standing and looking out at the country.

During one moment, seemingly frozen in time, standing in a field with my hands down, palms out, fingers stretched to the ground in a pose that would make it into some of the best music videos, or worst Christian movies, with the strong breeze working the acoustics of my ears, my eyes mesmerized by the tall grass being moved by the wind in such a way that made me think I could just as easy be standing in the ocean, waves crashing all around me, I had this thought. It's the secret I want to let you in on.

I spent over a quarter century (sounds cool and authorative, doesn't it?) with a tremendous desire to, and feeling that I didn't, belong. It was a struggle. A serious war that waged within me causing me great distress and many sleepless nights. And a lot of crying. Serious crying. The type of crying that makes your throat sore.

You didn't know about this? You wouldn't. I knew that exposing my self-esteem issues might create conditions for sympathy-induced belonging. But I also knew what a burden I would be to others if they knew how needy I was and risking being thrown out of a group because of my attachment problems. That was a risk I coudn't take.

So in my younger years I became loud and funny, hoping to belong. In high school I joined groups and sought leadership positions, hoping to belong. In my early college years I found "true, authentic, Holy Spirit filled, fellowship of the unashamed" Christianity, hoping to belong. Later on in college I tried to become intellectual, hoping to belong. For the longest period I would never turn down a single offer to hang out or help out, no matter how inconvenient it was. Because if I said no to a social gathering or a dinner or a ball game or a visit or a chance to help someon out, I might not get asked again and I wouldn't belong. In any position I held in which the hierarchical system placed me above another, I was always the lenient one. Cool people belong and I wanted to be cool.

I worked and I maneuvered and I postured. Just so I would belong. And when I didn't feel I belonged, I cried and grieved and developed a new personality or craft or schtick and I worked harder and harder just so you'd like me. And it worked. And I got good at it. I'm still good at it.

And today, standing in the field in front of New Canaan Baptist Church in the middle of Nowhere, Tx, letting the breeze blow through me like healing waters I had the realization that it's been over three years since I've stayed up at night crying over someone or a group of someones I perceived as not wanting me. I've actually, several times over the past few years, said "no" to opportunities of hanging out with people for the sole purpose of spending time with myself. I know there are people who care for me deeply and I've learned how to have the grace to receive their love.

And this has all happened slowly. But, now that I think about it, the catalyst was leaving my position at Baylor. I spent a year there trying to belong and feeling that I didn't. My ideas weren't appreciated. They were listened to in the same way a yuppie preacher listens to your ideas in order to get you on their side, then throws them away. I was denied a position in favor of people who were less qualified than I. And, you know, I guess I was just at that point in my life where I had had enough and came to my senses and said "Fuck* you and your goddamned* bureaucratic shit and your organizational system that values efficiency over people and your implicit support of a student culture in which the caricatures of the "rich, snobby, inconsiderate baylor student" is a stereotype rooted in reality. If you don't want me, screw you. I don't want you either." In so many words that looked more like, "As of August 1, 2001 I am resigning my position......"***

Wow. Seriously, I didn't go into that last paragraph with the intention of coming out of it in the way I did. I guess I still have issues I need to deal with.

Anyway, back to the field and wind and grass and revelation. Minus a few Baylor issues that need to be dealt with, but probably won't, I realized that God has slowly changed me. I don't say that lightly. I've always thought that when God "works in your heart" that he does it over a fairly short period of time. Maybe a few days and bam!, your changed.

That was the first part of the realization. The second part is more interesting.

A few years ago in a group conversation at church someone made this very keen insight. When talking about "issues" that each of us carry around with us he made the point that, even though we want God to "fix us" of those problems, deep down there's something within us that wants to hold on to them. Why? Because those are some of the only things that we can truly call "mine."

And so this lifelong struggle of belonging that caused so much grief is mostly gone. But, it's weird, I feel kind of empty because of it. Which makes me think, maybe it's not gone at all, just hiding and waiting for an opportune moment. Or maybe it is gone and I don't know what to replace it with.

But I do. I really do. It's obvious what it should be replaced with.

But seriously, what does that look like?

That's the secret I'd like to know.

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*It's been a while since I've used such offensive language. Please know that I pray every day, try to read my Bible as much as possible, have commited myself to a Christian community that cares about me, and am a Christian. If you feel my use of such words defies intellectualism, then fine. If you feel it makes me a worse Christian than you, then that's fine as well. I respect, but disagree, with your assesment. I tried to use other words but none of them created the desired effect.

*** If you are a Baylor student or alumni of Baylor, and are reading this blog, you probably already know that my thoughts don't reflect you or your kin. But I have to speak the truth as I've experienced it.