September 10, 2004

What I learned in prison yesterday.

Yes, I was in prison yesterday. In fact, I've gone to prison every Thursday morning for the last so many years. More than five, less than ten. Let's say 7 1/2. I rarely go in with any sort of agenda, except to be in relationship with a group of guys that elect to show up under the pretense of "religious visit." Actually, there's not much pretense about it. I bring my Bible and sometimes open it.

We talk about everything from politics to sex. We also talk about what it really means to have faith while living in the real world, and how it's not just some kind of legalistic set of rules and regs. It's usually a quite stirring discussion. Our group maintains a high dose of cynicism, mixed with wonderment. I think that's why I like Thursday mornings so much. Yesterday, though, I wanted to read Romans 8. Pretty cool stuff about the human condition, er..MY human condition. Somethings that I don't want to do, I find myself doing. And other things I want to do, I don't do. What's my problem?

Well, it turns out my problem is not too far off from what everyone around the table deals with as well. This duality of the wills, a divided heart, the good and the bad, the ying and the yang. Not too uncommon. My question then was, "How then do I keep from going completely crazy?" Without any pause, one of the guys (who's been in longer than I've been going, and doesn't know yet when he's going home) spoke up: "Gratitude." Whoa. His simple profundity nailed me to the chair.

I try so hard to figure it all out. I'm certain that if I can just get this or that question answered, or if I can just get my behavior or thoughts "good" enough, THEN I'll really have it good. It's as if I'm looking for a faith without unanswered questions. Or that I'm looking for a religion that is about me being good enough to earn the good stuff. As it is now, I have to rest knowing that my faith only has validity with unanswered questions. AND that my thoughts or behavior will never be good enough, and they don't have to be. That takes a load off my legalistic shoulders. All I need to do is be grateful. Grateful for all I have and all that's been done for me. Pretty simple.

As you can imagine, I look forward to next Thursday morning.

September 5, 2004

Life is like a turtle.

Ok. My first blog. I've heard so much about it, surely it can't live up to all my expectations. This seems to be the theme of my life: balancing expectations. Phew! I wish someone would have told me when I was a kid that life was going to be a lot more normal than fantastic. Instead, I grew up with the hope (inflated expectations) about how amazing life was going to turn out to be. Now that I'm older, it really seems like the amazing-ness of life pokes its head out in random moments, and then it pulls it back in.

Like a turtle.

I could sit here and try to get that dang turtle to poke its head out again so I can get another glimpse. But most likely, while I'm looking, it's not going to happen. It's the times when I turn away to focus on something else, something a little more normal, like taking out the trash or picking up dog poo, that the turtle pops his head out again. Kind of like when you're watching a calm lake, and you see some kind of movement that surely must be a giant fish. You see the waves and ripples, but not the fish, or the whale, or the turtle. But that's exciting.

The amazing part of life is watching for movement in areas that are completely still. You never know what's just under the surface.