in the middle of the road

soooo much going through this crazy brain of mine.

that's less of an abnormality than i wish, and makes putting it all into words ridiculously difficult. 

especially since the comfy chairs in "my" coffee corner are gone. 

Dear Books-a-Million,

not cool. 

bring them back!!!!!

i was looking forward to spending time there, processing the missions trip that i couldn't process while laying semi-conscious on the couch focusing only on how to swallow.  i honestly don't think i've been that sick in almost a decade. i will never take my streptococcus- free throat for granted again.

every mission trip causes all kinds of memories that you hold on to forever.

this latest one, to Parnamirim, Brazil, was no different.

but each one also has one or two particularly special moments that hold on to YOU forever.   and every single time that trip is referenced over the next few decades, it will be the first image that comes into your mind, elevates your heart rate and puts a smile on your face.

well, we're working on the smile- it's a cross between a smile and a grimace right now- but it will come.

as far as the Brazil trips for our church is concerned, the work we do there is an incredible time of team bonding, hard, hard, hot work, new friends and old ones, more hard work and lots and LOTS of beans, rice and chicken. 

but everything we do is a build-up towards that one, single shining time: the dedication service of the chapel.  that friday night, dozens of Americans and Brazilians gather together in a one-room chapel that we built with our own hands, and we celebrate as a multi-national Church the God build with His own hands.  we sing, we hug, we share.  we present the chapel's keys to the pastor of this brand-new baby congregation, and plaques honoring those who provided the funds for the supplies and extra labor. we sing more and take zillions of selfies to treasure later.  there are tears of joy at the friendships we've made and the experiences we've shared that week, and there are tears of sadness at the impending separation the next day.

usually included in that service, just as in the morning devotionals, an American team member will share a personal testimony. i think every year we go, all the team members know that until Pastor Dan announces who's sharing the next day they should avoid eye contact or risk being asked.  it was monday or tuesday evening when he approached me and asked how i felt about giving a morning devotional at the work site before we began building.  even if it wasn't a full testimony, he asked if i just told a little about what God has been doing recently in my life.

i begged off, promising to "think about it." and thought i was off the hook. i didn't really say how i felt about it, because that answer would have been to laugh in his face, and shout "fat chance!" as i ran for the border.

but then there was a moment, thursday night.

our whole team had come back from the churrascaria (Brazilian steak house/all-you-can-eat) dinner, absolutely stuffed and now hanging out all over the motel pool area, the hammocks or the office in smaller groups.  laughter was ringing out, slowly quieting as people finished their card games and wandered back to their rooms to get some sleep.

i was trying to catch up on my mission trip journal and didn't notice him until he sat down on the bench beside me and said, "So, what's God doing in your life?"

all i promised was that i would try to write something down and we would decide in the morning, knowing that God's current working in my life would not make sense at all to anyone unless they knew the background, too.

just a few minutes later, he and everyone else had gone indoors.

i was left all alone on the bench.  just me and Jesus, trying to fathom the idea of sharing any of that story.  Pastor Dan knew just enough to know that it was a moving story that would be appropriate for this capstone moment.

deep (VERY deep) down inside, there returned to me a little (VERY little) voice that i'd heard a while before the trip.  a voice of hope.  a voice of freedom.  a voice that said maybe, just maybe, this would finally be the year i could find the strength within to release my story, stop living under a lie, and let God receive the glory for His work.  that's really the only reason we should share anything.

i stayed on that bench forever, typing words down in a file on my phone that i've never typed before. i saw those words and just … just nothing.  i felt numb inside.  there were so many questions, fears, doubts. for the thousandth time, i wondered "if You had been there, this wouldn't have happened, would it?"  and "what about now- right now - are You here?  would You come to this bench right now ? every personality test i've ever taken gets mixed up over me- i'm about 51% Type A and 49% Type B.  even Myers-Briggs has trouble classifying me.  the Type A side saw Pastor Dan's request as a simple task- don't think, just do.  the Type B side was struggling a bit more. as i mentally worked through this, trying to get the head and the heart to agree on something, just wondering what Jesus would say if He had sat down with me, it came.  a strong, loud, yet gentle rain. first, nothing; then, rain pouring down from invisible clouds in the dark, beating on the roof and then hitting the ground in rhythmic streams, evenly spaced by the wavy roof panels overhead.

it could have been a pure coincidence, or it could have been a little message: "I AM there on that bench…"

***

chapter 11 in the book of John covers the whole story of Lazarus, and for some reason i can't understand, John is the only guy who bothered to write it down.  i guess chiseling down a daily diary on boulders would get inconvenient, but you gotta think having a day like that would justify getting some cheap parchment and jotting down a paragraph or two!  guess not. 

but in between Lazarus being alive, and then being alive again, there are two brief conversations.  one with Martha and then one with Mary. the Brain and the Heart.

Jesus' disciples have just decided that they were going to keep following Jesus, even though they think He's making a super-stupid choice, heading right back to where He just escaped a mob-assassination from. they are devoted to Him, even when they don't understand Him.  because now that His friend is DEAD, going towards Jerusalem seems pointless and dangerous and dumb.

in response to their quizzical facial expressions, He says, "Are there not twelve hours in a day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world."

the only commentary my footnotes give state that He was saying that as long as He was there- because He WAS the light of the world- everything would be alright.

but even more than that, when He says that there are 12 hours in the day, the rest of that thought is left unstated:

after day comes the night. 

hours are measureable. 

He knew exactly what time it was. 

miles down the road, just outside the town of Bethany, Martha gets wind of His approach and meets Him outside the town gates.  wasting no time, she goes right into the conversation.  she doesn't really care about the traffic, the weather, the local news- she wants to know why He didn't come earlier. 

she's hurting and confused and very Type A.  she's the one who is always prepared, always working, always fixing things.  she's organized, she's capable, she's strong.

but there's a problem she can't fix, a situation wholly out of her control.

and the only One who could...didn't.

and durg it all, she wants to know why.

so she asks why, and He answers why. 

"if You had been here, this would NOT HAVE HAPPENED.. would it? "she had the theology down pat- she was just missing a key piece- Jesus.  

something "clicks" in her head and she knows someone else who needs a healing touch: her sister Mary.  so she races back to their home and tells Mary to get her sandals on 'cause Jesus was calling her (which there's no written record of).

so Mary hops on down the road just as fast as she can, wasting no time.

she likewise, could care less about current events or anyone else.  all she wants to know is why on earth He didn't come earlier.

she's hurting and confused and very Type B.  she's the one who cares more about the houseguest than the house, always spending time with people, building relationships, talking, sharing, loving.  she's caring, she's personable, she's committed.

but there's a problem she can't fix, a Lazarus-shaped hole in her heart. 

and the only One who could have stopped it...didn't.

and durg it all, she wants… she wants Him. 

so she falls at His feet, tells Him the problem… and nothing else.

"would You come- just come right here.  Come right here, right now- would You? could you?"

she's so upset there's not even a real question there. her brother is dead. either she thinks He can't fix it, knows He will, or  hasn't even thought that far ahead- i don't know. but it's enough for her that Jesus is right there, right then.  other friends followed her to lend their emotional support; they are invisible to her. 

it's just her and Jesus together. the I AM was right there.

even Jesus cries.  He cares enough to cry. like a strong but gentle rainstorm, making His presence known. not denying the problem- acknowledging it, but also the fact that the answer was coming- so soon- but not here yet, and that until that "yet" came there was a painful waiting. 

again, the commentary doesn't say much.  it considers the text sufficiently speaks for itself. Jesus was caught up in the emotion of the moment and supporting His friends who were hurting.

i can't help but think there's more.

He's looking back...but He's also looking forward, physically and metaphorically.

He's looking back at His disciples who followed Him and the question they're thinking ("half those Jews behind Mary are probably about to arrest us- why are we not running?")

He's looking forward at Martha and Mary and the questions swarming around them, and the questions that they don't even know to ask.

He's looking back in time at centuries of Marthas and Marys and Lazarus's (Lazari?  Lazaruses?....????) and Jews.  millions of Type As and Bs with questions, pain, death, disease, anger, confusion, sin, and holey, holey hearts.

and then finally, He's  looking forward in time.  but not hundreds of years forward (well yes, but not principally). just a matter of days forward.

the disciples didn't know that when Jesus made that reference to time, dusk was fast approaching. the sun was going down, and every single one of them that had just that day chosen to follow Him- even though they thought it would end in death- was about to ditch Him and run once they realized that it would undoubtedly end in His death. 

that friday night in Brazil, sharing that secret story for the first time… what a night.

looking down at a text that had never been spoken, looking back at years i am incapable of forgetting and all the questions they create, my mouth went completely dry.  somehow i choked my way through the whole thing, with a white-knuckled grip on the pulpit and a friend supporting me (emotionally AND physically) from behind.

the Martha side of me had already been through that conversation.  i've already thrown all those questions down, cried those tears, been through that whole scenario.  the brain part is done.

the Mary side of me is still…

it's still sitting there.  right there in the middle of the road.  everyone else can stay invisible for all i care right now.  i need those friends just as much as that Mary did- i need to know they are there… as long as they support me from behind and don't come between me and Jesus.

it's got to be enough for me that He is here.  He's got the answers to the questions that i don't even know to ask, and if i look back even farther, i'll see what Jesus was looking forward to, and maybe- just maybe- our eyes will meet just below that cross beam.   

throw the questions down at His feet, right there at the base of the Cross.

then look up just a bit and see the answer just above you.  the answer to every-shaped hole in every heart.  the answer to every question, asked and unasked.  the light for every darkness.

the best part is that there is room at the Cross for everyone who wants to come.  don't stand off down the road; come join me- there's room for all.

and they can stay as long as they need to. 

that's what i plan on doing.