Knowing just enough not to get hurt...

One day, when i was in 4th grade, my dad decided that he no longer wanted to be associated with "those hypocrite Christians who believe one thing and do another" and he took the cross off his business card, put his bible on the shelf, and most poiniently began spending sunday morning maintaining his home- run business. But in the ten years or so since that day, there has only been one instance (about 2 weeks ago) where I have been asked personally how things are at home. Everyone knows that something is wrong, but no one cares enough to ask. Even to ask why I have two parents, but people only know one. Even to ask if it hurts.

The role of the church and body of Christ has been on my mind a lot lately. I've been sorting through things in my own church that I don't understand, trying to figure out the things that have caused me pain and thinking about ways that my life needs to change so my brothers and sisters there don't have to suffer the same pain as I did. God has been speaking into my life about love and acceptance and my need for people and the role of community. And I'm trying to figure it out. Why is stopping me from fully embracing community here in Greeley? In my family? In the deepest part of my life.

In my church, there is a deep silence. People don't talk about the things that really hurt. People refer to other people and problems vaguely, afraid to offend or stir anything up. Everyone knows the scandals, but it is always in whisper, in the circles that don't really matter or care. Poeple know just enough, but when it comes to really knowing, being in a person's life, we fail. There is a bubble blown up by the "hushes!" and the "sshhh." I have been wounded, suffocated, silenced by that bubble, and now find myself at the threshlold between the hot air inside and the hard shell created by those with the hurts.

I have a friend who comes to church with her grandma. We all know she has two parents. We know something isn't right. But no one ever speaks of it. No one ever asks. Recently her parents got divorced. I only know because someone who knew enough and cared enough was close enough to see inside that secret life away from sunday and wednesday, possibly trying to reach outside of the "just knowing" bubble, hoping that I would care a little. So now I know a little more. And i care a lot. But how do I break the cycle? How do I admit to someone I know their life isn't perfect, even though I also know they are trying to hide it, to fit in, to be that person without need of others. That I am just like them. I;m scared to break it. Will my life come tumbling down? Will those who know a little about me look down their noses, wondering what possessed me to care enough to be tangled in the web? None of these things will happen, i know. But what about the pain that might surge within me, knowing so much about this person who needs me so deeply? Do I have a deep love that covers both of our multitudes of sin?

I know that the church today knows what is going on in people's lives at least a little. But do we care? Do we care enough to know a little more? Do i care enough about my friend to ask, "Where are your parents? Do they love you? I know something about you that you are hiding. I know you are afraid to break the cycle of people knowing just enough about you that they know if they see any more, their hearts are going to break along with yours?" It breaks my heart to know the heartbreak that this little knowing and little caring causes toward others. Do I myself care more about her than my own personal comfort of never rising above the status quo? I guess a big question is how do you break the silence after so many years? It might come as quite a shock to her to know that people actually care. Now not only do i have to break a deep tensiony silence, but also a shell that that silence creates.

I know what it is like to have a little known about me, but not enough to really pour out my life- to be known myself. And I know what they shell looks, and feels, and even tastes like at time. Breaking shells makes a mess. And people see mess. Mess makes people uncomfortable. But with broken shells comes life and healing. I have said before, "I don't think there is anything that feels quite as good as brokeness." When you break out, you break down to nothing, you are free. Free to be honest, and clear, and to live the way you were created to live. Unfortunately, i am no expert on brokenness, i have just begun to understand and experience it. But oh, what a beautiful thing it is. How beautiful is the church that can be broken together, the people that can show their broken mess and allow others to have one of their own.

I started at one point and ended in somewhere else. I guess thats why they call it the journey. I'm afraid this blog is quite incoherent and hard to follow, but its a true picture of where my heart has been taken tonight. This is a true picture of my imperfections and the places God is taking me- I don't like to publish things that aren't organized in thought, but i hope you get the idea anyway. I'm just digging deeper, and yet deeper still...