Opening Remarks - Hitting the Ground with Empty Hands

I've been putting off writing this, the first blog entry. It seems like there's a lot of pressure to make it great.

I'm first compelled to explain a little bit about this blog.

I feel kind of like a d-bag even having a blog. I'm not so sure I have the right to assume any of my thoughts/words are worthy of your spending any time whatsoever reading them. But, here I am, writing anyway. One thing I've learned this past year: part of maturing is accepting responsibility. I guess this blog is an act of responsibility for me, comitting myself to putting words to tension I usually allow to go unaddressed inside and around me. This is a classroom for me; journey with me if you will. I would love the company.

Okay, let's get down to business...

Opening remarks. I've been waiting for weeks for just the perfect inspiration to hit me to start this blog off right. I've been reading a lot, hoping another's words will invoke enough passion to produce the perfect first entry. Today I realized the irony that I'm looking for someone else's thoughts to be a catalyst for my own. Tonight I'm taking responsibility to put my own thoughts to written word.

This blog is supposed to be about "glimpes of beauty" (read the About Me section). But, truth is, this week has seemed far from beautiful. My life is riddled with uncertainty right now (not meant to be cryptic...call me if you want to talk about it; I'll tell you what's going on), as are the lives of some people very dear to me. This has been a week of confusion, pain, frustration, saddness. I feel like I'm in a freefall right now. Maybe to some that sounds good, even fun. But in freefall there's nothing stable to grasp, and there's a knowledge that hitting the ground is inevitable.

In freefall, what beauty is there to see?

With nothing stable to grasp in mid-air, my hands are empty. I can't grasp any tools to try to control or change my situation, and I can't pick up any weapons in an attempt to fight against others, or God. I'm at His disposal right now, and frightenly aware of it. And more than being empty, they're open, which means God can put whatever He wants in them once I come down. I hope that once I hit the ground, open is the way they'll stay. God's pushed me off a ledge, and maybe that sounds mean, but He knew I needed it. It's beautiful the way He empties us.

I'm confident this freefall will end and I will land somewhere. On the way down I'm allowed a perspective above it before I'm in it. And that's really beautiful, too, because there's a clarity on things that get a lot more confusing once on the ground. Love. It seems so simple from up here, that showing love to people is never a bad thing to do with time and energy. In the past I've been far too picky in choosing whom I will love, usually discriminating according to who I enjoy loving the most. Moving to a new and completely foreign place this year, I've experienced a good amount of confusion as to who I'm supposed to love in this city and how I'm supposed to love them. I've missed my friends and family back home, and the familiarity of knowing how to love them well. I've longed for that sense of stability and purpose. Call me a liar, but I hear it clear as day. There's a soundtrack to this freefall, and it's definitely Stephen Stills' "Love the One You're With." I won't provide you an exegetical tonight to prove it, but the Bible's clear that we are where we are for a reason, and there are people here to love. And with all the mess - pain, fights, games, confusion, annoyance, break-ups, break-downs - that loving someone is, it's a beautiful miracle that it's possible inside us. Wherever this freefall takes me, I hope the clarity remains to love whoever else happens to be there.

Open hands and solid ground are good things. If you find you have the first, be thankful for them as you wait for the second. Thanks for reading.