September 3, 2011
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Born with a love of darkness
Feeling my darkness. I don’t remember when – but sometime, perhaps while walking yesterday morning- I thought about everything happening inside of me. And it was strange.
I know what it means to love. I know what it looks like to be an upbeat and friendly person. I know I should forgive my parents. I could drill myself into the ground and things would probably get better. So why don’t I?
It’s just – well, I can’t explain it. There’s this feeling, this rising, forceful, overwhelming storm of a feeling that says ‘NO, DON’T DO IT.’ It seems insurmountable. It doesn’t feel like an option to say ‘Ok, this feeling is telling me that I’m offended and not to forgive, but I’m going to anyway.’ I know I can. I could just bystep that feeling; I’m a human, I’m the one in control. But when it happens, the feeling always wins. There’s this feeling and it just points all my guns outward and saves all my sympathy for myself. It is automatic, and it is powerful.
What do I do? Love covers over a multitude of sins. I know, K., I know.
A secret love, a quiet love, that’s all our bodies were meant for. Maybe destroying yourself would be the most freeing thing you ever did. It doesn’t feel that way. I can feel it now, the momentum rises: protect yourself, you are worth it. But that you were born inside of that particular head is not very interesting. We think it is very interesting, but it is not. We are not very interesting. That feeling says we are, but that feeling came with the body. And that’s really it’s only claim to authority. It comes with the body.
I am a Christian because I know my darkness. People believe hell is a great objection to God; I think it is his strongest argument. It lives – if it can be called ‘living’ - inside me. I can feel the sticky vapors of a raspy breathing, always screaming its importance, always directing me inward, always enshrouding and killing everything. For me there is either a need for redemption and a God, or just a need for redemption. Maybe others don’t need redemption; maybe they don’t have the voice. But I do. That’s what I know.
To be a Christian means to go through life continually realizing what a fool you were the year before.
It seems very hopeless. The closer I get the farther away I seem. The more you know about what’s good, the bigger you realize the good is. When I was a kid, I always thought there would be a day I’d wake up and know God. I don’t know what I thought it’d be like. But I didn’t think it would be like this.
Lord, wash away this shore of pollution and sediment, this bay of floating debris; this carousel is very dizzying, and I don’t want to be far from you. It is a big life to live, but you are bigger than everything. And I always forget that. Save me from the worries of a dizzied and careworn mind. How small I must seem to you.
Comments (5)
This reminded me of two things: Firstly, when I was in seminary, one of my friends complained to me, “I let go of my grudges, but they hold on to me!” Secondly, I remember a story I once read about a Christian woman in Ancient Rome who always stayed in her room and never left except to go to church. One of her neighbors who brought her food asked her why she always stayed in side and she replied “I am on a great journey. All Christians are.”
Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow him, and he seasons this with the wisdom that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. The paradox of being a Christian.
Hm. I get the whole dark thing. Been there, done that.
I like your writing style.
I realise we don’t know one another, but I feel like I have to mention that forgiveness is a huge part of being a Christian. It’s sort of a recent revelation for me; God (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) forgives all sins… and so should I.
My life has been getting lighter ever since. I’m just saying.
@Saakara - That’s a great story. Another Emily Dickinson, she just didn’t write anything down. Well, except Emily Dickinson didn’t go to church. I forgive her for that though.
It’s true that letting go is very complicated. Thanks for the encouragement.
i like your writing style too.. someday you´re gonna be like Henri Nouwen.
I always feel like someday, I will know God.. and be close with him but that day never seems to come and I always wonder if i´m doing something wrong because it always seems like a one ended conversation