a bad attitude means everyone loses.
it’s not up to us to prove to the world that our situation isn’t right. that things are wrong with the world. that we’ve been cheated.
chances are, we aren’t off as badly as we think we are, and even if we were, it’s still not up to us.
this world is a world with two realities and it’s not up to us to prove the infinite quality of brokenness in this world.
i can go to university and decide it’s up to me to show my roommates and those around me that i’d rather be in turkey, with my friends, with my heart, with these people i’ve grown to love and even to some extent the culture i’ve embraced. i could forgo my totes shirts & yellow sunglasses & fist-pumping because let’s be honest folks: it’s just not the same without my bros.
but this cheats me of joy. it shows that i don’t think God has done enough to prove that goodbyes suck. it shows that i don’t trust that payment has been made for the brokenness of this world: i have to add just a little bit more disapproval to show that it’s messed up.
what. a. joke.
my little tiny rebellious finger-flicking at the brokenness of this world is about as ridiculous as it sounds.
yep, it hurts.
yep, it’s not right.
yep, there’s a possibility that no one at university will understand my life or what i’ve left behind or that i really truly am not excited to be there and would much rather rent a flat here and live off of tutoring money.
and yes, if i act like the Totes that haniel knows, it’ll look like i’m denying the reality that i’m not where i want to be. no one looking on might see what really is going on in my heart.
but that’s where i have to trust that a) what difference does it make whether or not i legitimize my hurt by acting like it? infinite payment has been made for this (much more than my little tiny pain really deserves because if we’re gonna compare it let’s just not even be talking right now). it’s no longer up to me. i hand over my desire to legitimize my pain and give it to the one who felt much more conflict inside him than i, and then get up and dance my heart out because it’s no longer up to me to prove it’s real. b) there will be the few who want to know what goes on in this heart. and that’s enough. c) God will give grace to let me be Totes. be joyful. fist-bump and tchu-tcha-tcha with increasing amounts of genuine joy.
i am free to run. i am free to dance.
i don’t need to be tied to these bonds of needing people to understand. they can’t, if they can, they won’t, and if they do, they won’t want to.
why cheat myself? i’m going, and i’m gonna love it, or act like i do till i do.
do i want to spend my little finite life arguing with the creator of the Universe? Job shows us what happens.
no, i want to look at the lightning and see the ladybugs and dance around trees to portuguese love songs while doing the neymar dance, and i want to run through the fields accepting that yes: it’s a broken world. but yes: it’s still beautiful. and it’s beautiful no matter where i am or who i’m with because i have eyes given to me by Jesus.
there’s a time for grieving. i’ll weep with yona for a moment at reentry, then we’ll dance the night away.
because despite blinding tears, the future is brighter than any flashback.
my response to people asking about college has been lately: i really don’t want to go. and then i shrug and look away and the conversation moves on.
but now, i think i need to change that.
next time they ask me, i’ll say, i’m so excited to see Jesus better in all this. that’s where i’m gonna be for at least 1 semester, and YOLO. what up union you have no idea what kind of party is about to start.