This computer is not the slowest one I have ever been on, but I have had plenty of time to stare at the picture of Sequioa and I at the reservoir. On days when my body aches, and I am tired of community, when I am just plain tired, I think of what I left behind to come out here.
I think of my family and friends. Friends starting families, a part of me wants to be there for them. My best man, John, going through the death of his dad without me. Friends getting married. Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it. Do I really believe the reason I am out here?
I stare at Sequoia, I wonder how much bigger she is getting. I have heard from Chuck that she is getting darker. Part of me hurts when I think of her. Parts of me actually hurt when I think of home.
Seth talks about part of following Jesus is abandonment. This word means more and more to me. Actual feelings attached. Abandoning friends and family, I had no idea would be so difficult. Abandoning Sequoia, I knew would be difficult, but I did not realize just how much I would miss her. (just a dog, I know)
Abandonment has been more than these physical things left behind. It is leaving parts of me behind. It is abandoning self each day. Swallowing my pride, trying to live in unity, community.
I want a beer really bad right now. Christians out here are not supposed to drink beer. So it has been awhile for me. If Jesus were here, he would probably walk into a bar and sit down and have a beer and love the people in the bar. Jesus would have a beer with me and help me sort out all this religious stuff. All the conformity and expectations.
I stare at the picture of Sequoia and I, I want to walk her around the reservoir tonight. I want to smoke a cigar that Winston Churchill would be proud of. Learning how much solitude and nature are how I access the God part of my brain, how a walk with Sequoia helped me to pray. When I have an experience of God’s closeness in fresh air, sounds of birds. Relaxing with a cigar.
One day I was out walking Sequoia (wow that is a slow word to type) and smoking a cigar, in my little world of trying to understand something, staring at my feet so I would not trip over the roots, when I heard my name. A guy from my church, named Bob Figucia, was out running with his dog, a visla (I have no clue how to spell the breed name). I felt like a little kid, caught red handed with the cigar.
Why did I feel guilty? I guess I have a number of thoughts bringing all this up right now. My brother-in-law, Bernie, has started a webpage or a blog or whatever the technical name for it is, and has included a beer review. I believe Bernie has a really good handle on how confusing we make christianity, and he has had to explain how a person with his spirituality would include this topic. Pray for my sister, Becky, and Bernie, that God would give them courage and determination as they prepare to head to Malawi for a missions trip. I look forward to sitting with them in 6 months, having a beer, and discussing how God worked on that trip.
When my feet hit american soil, I think the first thing I will do is buy a pipe (I have never smoked a pipe with the fancy smelling tobacco, and I think I am old enough now to do that. Besides, I need something to help me look a little more sophisticated) and start a new habit. Out here, we have signed a no tobacco clause, which is fine, because I don’t have an addiction and stopped dipping when I was 25. (mom, remember when you caught me then, and I tried to pretend it was gum and almost drooled all over myself?
Why am I talking about this? I guess I am still trying to be vulnerable, transparent. I guess I am not a good christian. I guess sometimes I feel like those who believe in Jesus put too much emphasis on appearing to be a good christian. There is some kind of economy in our reputations of holiness. I think it is crap, this image of holiness we build to gain something in the church circles.
Wow, feels like a just let a really stinky brain fart out. One of the ones that hurt up in the stomach, and slowly work their way down the colon. A stomach ache fart my buddy likes to call them. The fun part about a fart is that they stink, farts are funny. Farts are part of being human, we all spew stench.
