I have no interest today talking to people who have all their shit figured out. The people whose lives are together and orderly, for whom everything is perfect and squeaky clean. The people who have an organized silverware drawer and a steady job with 401K benefits and have quiet, perfunctory sex before sleeping next to a stack of barely cracked books. Those people can go read some other blog. Those people can sip their tea and read the newspaper and drive their clean cars to work while NPR babbles in the background.
I’m talking to you, the person who is a fucking mess. God, I love you. The woman who is barely holding it together each morning as she gets her kids out the door for school. The man who is so desperate and hungry for love and affection, he’s thinking of cheating on his wife. The teenager who has so many emotions, she doesn’t know whether to cry or poop.
Those are the people I’m after. Those are the people I want to bring into the fold.
Yesterday, I was in a bookstore, and I went into the Christian aisle, which I never ever go in, and I looked at the titles because I want a new book by Cynthia Bourgeault but she’s too brilliant to be in the Barnes & Noble Christian aisle. And there are all these titles with these straight-teethed white people with coiffed hair telling you about Jesus. Jesus saves and Jesus loves and Come to Jesus and all that. And it made me feel really ick. Like really, really ick. Because Jesus is fucking black. And Jesus is fucking Hispanic. And Jesus is fucking on the street corner with his hand out, begging for food.
And Jesus is in your heart and your soul and will always answer every single question you have, and will always measure up, and will always deliver you, and these ugly books don’t show you that.
So why the fuck would someone like me, who is infinitely cool, start talking to people about Jesus. Dear God. It is so embarrassing, sometimes. It is so awkward to say his name and be grouped with other people who say his name, people who I wonder if I have anything in common with. People who are more interested in belonging to a tribe than they are in seeking out the truth, in having their lives constantly break apart and be formed anew again. People who smile wide and pretend everything is great! It’s super! and really they’re fucking dying inside and riddled with doubt and doing all kinds of weird things in all kinds of dark corners.
(If you’re doing weird things in dark corners, I still love you, as long as you’re not molesting kids. Or adults. Or anybody. Knock that shit off, motherfucker.)
So how do you know truth, and how do you know what’s real, when people who say they know the truth and they know what’s real feel like liars, feel false, feel unauthentic? That’s fucking tough. That’s one of the biggest questions of life. And I don’t have an easy answer for you. I just know I’ve always wanted the truth, and it’s been my destiny and my soul’s deepest desire, and I’ve been digging for a lifetime, never giving up until I found it, and I did. And I found it in SexyJesus, who has no issues with things like sex and cunnilingus. He’s totally fine with that, by the way. That was a huge relief.
So what I can tell you about finding truth is that it is a lot of inner work. You do not find truth by being lazy, or by handing the reigns over to someone else. Nope. NoSiree. It would be nice if we could think that, wouldn’t it? Just hand your life over to someone else to figure it all out? But that would make you a weakling, a pussy, so don’t do that. (Although pussies are pretty nice! I have one! She’s awesome!)
You gotta get inside, baby. You gotta keep asking the questions and searching and rolling stuff around in your hands and in your mind and especially, most especially, in your heart. And then you’ll have a breakthrough, and then you’ll ask more questions. And anytime you think you have it all figured out, that’s when you know a fall is coming. Because God is all about making you fall, over and over again. Falling is heaven. Falling is when you don’t know where to put your feet. Falling is weightless, it is surrender, it is when you know you are not in control, and that knowledge, honey, is the greatest place you can be, even when it feels like hell.
(I hear my grandmother is reading my blog now. I wonder how she feels about all this pussy talk! Just an aside.)
What I will tell you, is that there is nowhere you can go that God cannot go also. There is no place you will go that God is not there. God will rise up to meet you in every single instance, in every single moment you ask. But you have to ask, baby. You can’t just do this shit alone. Oh my God, it so sucks to do it alone, and when you think you can do it all alone, that’s when the devil gets in, which is your ego, which is the dark corners of your mind. Thomas Merton said, “No man is an island,” and that’s frickin’ true. And I don’t know if Thomas Merton ever had sex. That’s not important right now. What is important is to know that God works everywhere, and works through other people, almost always, so if you’re looking for some sort of God-flower to rain down from the sky, you’re not going to find it, or if that’s what you’re looking for, you wouldn’t notice it when it arrived because you live your life fucking asleep.
God is everywhere, in every leaf on a tree, in every squirrel running after a nut, in every sip of your coffee. It’s just that often we’re sleeping, so we don’t know these things. We’re operating under a haze. We’re robots. And the Great HeShe is knocking on your door, like Hello! Hey, look at me! Isn’t this cool? Isn’t this beautiful? And you’re like, let me look at this screen because the world is now delivered through a little rectangular screen.
What I want to tell you is that faith never disappoints. Ever, ever, ever. People do, honey. People disappoint sometimes. No one’s perfect. And maybe the people who fall away or disappoint you were meant to help you grow, to help you get stronger, to help you discern what really matters in life and where you should be looking, what you should be going after. It’s just that we’re friggin’ emotional, so it’s hard to understand that at the time.
It is such a glorious thing to be alive. It is such an amazing opportunity to live beyond your narrow mind, your narrow conceptions, and get into your heart, and really see, and really live, and really be alive, and welcome every opportunity as something that is meant for you, without worry or doubt or blame or fear, but with faith and trust, and the absence of obsessing over money.
Because fuck, we are all so obsessed and crazy when it comes to money. And yet so much of scripture keeps warning us about that, keeps telling us not to make money a God.
God is God. Money is money. I often wonder why God made money exist because it gets us so confused about our priorities, about what matters in this life. We hoard money when we should be sharing it. And if we were truly a Christian country, we’d be spreading that money around, spreading the wealth, recognizing that what we make or earn is not ours, but is for everybody, is an exchange of energy, is a way of healing the world.
So let go of money. Let it fall. Let it float through the air like rain. Just simply let it go. Stop thinking about it. Stop trying to acquire it, or save it, or figure it out. Just let what comes come. And what goes, go.
Then you’ll be happy.
Tags: And I even love you Uncle Jackie even though you get on my nerves, hoo hoo hoo hooo hooo hooo, I love you Grandmom, I'm gonna love you for a long time, If devotion is a river then I'm floating away, money