A Glimpse Inside My Brain

Dear Reader, 

I would like to invite you inside of my head. Scary, I know, so proceed with caution. Also, please note, my brain/mood is very much altered by my Pandora playlist. 

First, let's set the mood:

Second, let's set the atmosphere: Imagine a quaint little coffee shop. A small, slightly wobbly, table. There is a strange man working about 6 inches away from my table, just a couple of inches too close for comfort. There is also a large group of people, way too happy and too loud, beginning to congregate at the couches across from my tiny table. I am furious that these selfish people are crashing in on my sacred little refuge.

We should probably just reset the mood. Start the song over, and this time turn it up a little louder, so you can drown the uninvited outside noise. I want to sink inside of this song. "Make it rain, make it rain, make it rain, make it rain. Let the clouds fill with thunderous applause and let lightening be the veins that fill the sky with all that they can drop, when its time to make a change. Oh Lord, make it rain." I feel heavy. I turn the music louder, attempting to silence the craziness around me, for a minute, so I can breathe.

And then the mood changes. Tracy Chapman just came on my pandora playlist. I am starting to think Pandora is slipping. Ok, new mood, set by Ms. Chapman herself.  Imagine me in a 1990's beanie. Outside it is actually raining. I am drinking coffee (because that is a consistent theme), I am still annoyed by everyone else around me (also a consistent theme), but everything looks slightly different. Since my image of a 1990's coffee shop is the set of Central Perk on Friends, just imagine me at Central Perk in all my grunge glory.

Image in my head.

(Likely, image in your head)

Oh, no! Pandora has just selected another awful, way too poppy song. Now I am even more annoyed. I forgot to mention that this is actually my 2nd attempt at creating a peaceful Godly coffee shop moment. It should be noted that my first coffee shop attempt failed when my slightly older Afghani stalker showed up asking why I haven't answered his calls.  So now here I sit at my new, safer, coffee shop, attempting, as you know, to set my beautiful, peaceful, chill mood. Instead, I realize I just finished my coffee. Yes, caffeine is gone. Poppiness is sickening. Caffeine is gone.

Otis Redding just came on. "Praise the Lord" for actual good music. Only, I am now too emotionally on edge to handle his depressing love ballads. "Goodbye beautiful voice that cuts straight to my soul." Cue cheesy Christian. I don't want too, but I have to.

Now that the mood has been set, the promised glimpse inside my brain: The insanity of my week is weighing me down. Like, I can literally feel a 10 pound weight on my shoulders.  I don't know the right decision to make. I don't know why they asked me to be on that committee. I don't know if I have more grace to give this person or that one. I hear you asking me for things in my sleep. There are more needs than I can meet, more grace than I can give! Why did that guy text me? Why didn't that guy text me? And, why does the inner dialogue of my 30's sound so creepily similar to my middle school inner dialogue? Why do I have to commute so far? Why do I spend my days trying to help people with high needs and trauma, only to spend my weekends visiting a refugee family? Why did Boazi get here before the ban, while his young wife and infant baby are stuck in a refugee camp? Why? These are real thoughts in my head and wrestlings in my soul, but as I write them, I want you to feel bad for me. I also want you to be inspired by what an awesome Christian I am. Yes, it is true, I spend my days with the poor, the widow and the foreigner! "Man, I look so Godly!" "What is wrong with me?"

And now we are both exhausted.

Someone (Joey) recently vented that this "Christian" stuff is all fake. Christians are just a bunch of people clothing themselves with the externals of spirituality and good deeds, while hiding their internal mess. On most days, when I am mastering my life, I completely disagree. But then there are days, when by the grace of God, the truth hits me. Even my goodness isn't good enough. No matter how hard I try to set the mood and play the part, it isn't enough. It is not enough to try harder, to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps, to create beautiful coffee shop Christian moments. Eventually, we all fold under the weight of our own "good" deeds. Christian, "cast your deadly doings down. Lay them at Jesus feet. Stand in Him, in Him alone. Gloriously complete" (Hymn: It is Finished, by James Proctor).

"Then you (will) see that it's the love of God to crucify your own sense of goodness. While everybody else is saying, 'He's fallen,' God just sees the vessel that He's making (The Rest of the Gospel, 23)."

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me (Galatians 2:20).

"Make it rain, make it rain, make it rain, make it rain. Let the clouds fill with thunderous applause and let lightening be the veins that fill the sky with all that they can drop, when its time to make a change. Oh Lord, make it rain."