Disappointment

disappointment

Who doesn’t know firsthand a sigh-causing sense of disappointment? Hardly a day passes without some touch of it; sometimes it brings a somewhat gentle sense of frustration. Sometimes it’s downright disheartening, in the truest sense of that word.

I’m reading something right now about experiencing real spiritual community. In the same sentences, I’m reading of disappointment. Besides our struggles to join our lives well with others, we all find disappointment within our own journeys. I can find it in myself long before I try to connect intimately with you, thank you very much.

But what if it’s not that bad?

I don’t intend that question as a minimization of real hurt. What I mean is, “Could disappointment itself fill a role?” Larry Crabb thinks so, and I’m inclined to agree…

“Disappointment… is inevitable. More than that, it is good. Following Christ must take us through seasons of disappointment, because Christianity remakes our dreams before it fulfills them. The process is excruciating. It can include divorce, bankruptcy, accidents, murder, near apostasy–anything.

Christianity promises happiness–that’s part of its appeal–but we will not find it by traveling the route we’ve already laid out in our heads. Disappointment, severe enough to be called death, is unavoidable in a true spiritual journey.”

Comforting? Not entirely.

True? I suspect so.

So what? Not sure. Go and live, and seek Jesus fiercely. And when disappointment hits, react to it slowly enough that the hurt doesn’t automatically create anger and aggravation. You may be more squarely on the right path than you realize.

A Good Kind of Whooping

wrestlingHere’s a twist on the image we often use of wrestling with God.  Credit Simone Weil…

“Isn’t it the greatest possible disaster, when you are wrestling with God, not to be beaten?”

That’s worth a thought.

If you “win” in your struggle with God, what does that mean?

Your way is better?

He’s really a weaker God than the dust-man who just made Him tap out?

Or what?

I’m all for Greco-Romaning with God.  In fact, that description fits real life for me.  But I can’t help running with Ms. Simone’s thought: When the bell rings, the best possible outcome for me after ten rounds would be to come away with a bit of a whooping.

That’s not abuse; that’s just the reality of one man asking to feel the weight of the Heaviest Being around.  And you don’t get out of such meetings without some marks.

Prayer is like Sex

I’m doing a series at church on prayer right now.

This illustration is actually begging to be used… but it just doesn’t fit any of my remaining lessons.  So to the blog-cave…

“I think prayer is analogous to sex.  (People’s ears always perk up when I say that.)  Most people would complain about their sex lives; a few do really well.  Sex and prayer are intimate and over-glamorized relationships.  We all are led to believe that we should be in the stratosphere in sex and in prayer.  It sets up a false expectation.  And breaks down intimacy.”

The lady who wrote that later spent several months in Africa, which forced her into a slower pace.  From that place, she added to her notes…

“Again, similar to sex, when we are so busy and filled with the cacophony of life, it is hard to relax, be quiet and communicate.”

And in case the analogy still isn’t clicking for you, Philip Yancy chimes in with a few further thoughts…

“As I thought about her unlikely analogy, it occurred to me that reading a book about prayer has some parallels to reading a sex manual.  What sounds so thrilling on paper bears little resemblance to how sex usually plays out between two vulnerable people who approach it with very different expectations.  Like sex, prayer centers in relationship more than in technique, and the differences between the two parties in prayer are far more profound than the differences between two lovers.  Should it surprise us that problems arise”

P.S. I generally like to brighten up my posts with some relevant pictures.  I thought it best not even to think about Googling anything for this particular post.  So what you see is what you get this time.

Transformed by the Grasp

There’s little that is sweeter than having a baby fall asleep in your arms.  It’s simply a feeling that lights you up in hard-to-describe ways.  It’s something about their peace and coziness lying there.  You feel their warmth and softness, and you’re sure you could put off whatever else you thought you needed to do.  Why not just stay here?

Peter Rollins talks about a baby in our arms as being a good starting image for understanding God.  Even long before a baby can register two cents’ worth of facts about the one holding them, they are being shaped by the holding.

Or as Rollins says it…

“We are like an infant in the arms of God, unable to grasp but being transformed by the grasp.”

For some reason, today, I really like that sentence.

So consider it blogged.

If You Need Anything

A spiritual seeker interrupted a busy life to spend a few days in a monastery.

“I hope your stay is a blessed one,” said the monk who showed the visitor to his cell.  “If you need anything, let us know and we’ll teach you how to live without it.”