Actually deserts have been on my mind all week, along with the so-called "sufficiency of Christ". Try to keep up. Or just forget it, close this window, and go watch a YouTube video. Either way, I can't seem to stop my relentless grinding mental wheel-turning. Is it weird that a scene from Princess Bride just flashed in my mind?
I've never been thirsty in a desert, even in the slightest, but I have been extremely thirsty in less dramatic locations. So, are you with me? Llamas, camels, desert, Princess Bride, no- wait, extreme thirst...
The other conversation of the week that I plan to marry with that train of thought is the one I had Monday at the Benjamin Meeting. That's what I'm calling my weekly Monday morning sanity hearings with my counselor/mentor/friend/thingymajiger/person. Anyway, I like Ben. He's experienced in EVERYTHING. He's a long time boxing coach/trainer, former alter boy, former electrician, former dairy hand, veteran of the Navy, father of 8, husband to the coolest lady alive (to hear him tell it), has theology degrees, counseling degrees, compassion, patience and insight. Okay, that's a scratch of the surface, but it's enough to give you tonight. The BEST part about the Benjamin Meetings is that he came to me and asked to meet with me. Weird. I was putting off the urge to call him all summer. Sooooo, the result has been a couple of months of me sticking my toe in the waters of trust, testing their depth and trying to figure out what exactly the end result of our friendship will be.
Ben is the first church leader I have felt completely comfortable around, especially when I don't like what I'm hearing. More than once I've told him that he or "it" pisses me off. I may or may not have used the phrase "so what you're telling me is that what I think/want is @$^&%*$$?" He is always calm, always even tempered. I'm pretty sure his blood pressure never raises. Which is good, because I'm (at times) highly, frustratingly, emotional.
So, Monday we were discussing the idea that I'm supposed to magically find my "sufficiency" in Christ alone. I was mad that those words are SOOOOO bumper-stickery and the perfect Christianese example if why I HATE being around glossy, churchy people. No one can give me a satisfactory example of how that meshes with real life, especially in the life of a worn-thin, tapped-out, mostly-penniless, stupidly-idealistic, overly-trusting, weakly-hopeful, massive-hearted, single mom of three. More than a few numbers went up on my blood pressure that day, as well as the pouring of a few dozen jugs of tears and snot. I'm sexy when I cry. Wait, nope, that was someone else I saw on a movie once...
Ben and I had come up with a list of five of my harshest daily realities. They all started with "P". Okay, all but one, but we changed it to a "PH", so take THAT. At the end of the problem solving/perspective gaining session I told him about my current grief-category anger as it applies to two and a half of the "P"s:
"I feel like my whole life I'm been excruciatingly thirsty, standing alone in the middle of an enormous desert. In two of those categories I was recently offered a glass of water. Before I could grab it and drink, the glass was torn from my hands and a teaspoon of that water was trickled onto my lips. Now, I've tasted it. What I've craved, no NEEDED for survival, tasted sweeter than my exhausted, treacherously parched soul could have ever dreamed up. It's beyond cruel. Actually, I believe that this is worse for me than if I'd never known water existed."
We sat at his table and argued about semantics for awhile. I told him that my understanding is that I'm not supposed to want or need anything. In fact, how dare I even try to ask for a "want", when "needs" are constantly in my face? I'm supposed to care less about the frivolity of asking for Dasani water, when Arrowhead isn't even an option. I hate Arrowhead, it tastes like dirt- my faucet's city water is better...
He let me rant. He tossed a box of Kleenex at me and waited. Then he said, "Collene Jesus was a man. Even He said 'My grace is sufficient for you'..." He went on to say, "don't you think that if He was physically sitting next you in an actual desert, He'd give you actual water? He never just sat by someone with real-life needs and became their "sufficiency" just because he was physically present." He made me define "Grace", which was easy because it's part of my daughter's name- God's Blessing. Okay, so then he made me define what a blessing is..."a gift", I told him. Yup, sooooooo if all that is true, then why in some of these areas, am I being tortured with barely moistened lips and I'm not even seeing swamp water in a mirage on the horizon? Is there some "Christmas Day" I have to wait for to take even a teeny sip again? What happens if I die of thirst first?
I don't know. I'm still wrestling the narrative that stubbornly whispers "it's because you're bad and don't deserve it Collene". The truth is, it's entirely possible that I took that glass of water and threw it out myself, rather than having it taken away by some mysterious ogre. What I know is that I can't see it, solve it or repair it. I'm concerned that, that which I destroyed (although it CAN be), WON'T be salvaged or replaced by Him... Tonight, I'm clinging to the last shred of faith that says He will.
I'll end by telling you, mostly for me to refer back to in the near future, what Ben told me last:
Apparently, from his perspective, I am not a mess. I am surrounded by messiness, but I am "very well adjusted, intelligent, grounded, thoughtful and even sane." I am an "unusual woman" (a compliment, I think) and "incredibly deep- relationally". In addition, I am "a very good mom who parents with purpose and foresight" and oh, "any man with half a brain could see that I am a catch". Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, all of that is even uncomfortable to type. I can't see it quite that way, but whatev, it's his opinion and it felt good to hear.
Goodnight.
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