Confessions & Cadence
...there comes a midnight hour when everyone has to throw off his mask
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
I used to think I had something to offer people.
I don't anymore.

I guess starving it is one way of disintegrating pride.
Maybe the only way.

How am I back to this again?
So many more questions than answers.
To hating my inner voice.
To not knowing who you are.
You make no sense and I'm reduced to a pissed off 19 year old.
Someone I left almost 10 years ago.

When did this happen?
I can't remember going from clarity to fog.
And yet, it feels like it had to have been abrupt.

I'm in the weirdest place
Of being so tired of guessing
So tired of forcing myself to believe
When it makes absolutely no sense to believe
Something I can't understand...
And simultaneously
I'm becoming more and more comfortable with not knowing anything.

Our structures are so small, so brittle, so contrived.
What's the point?
I don't know who you are
Beyond what I have experienced
And, I think I'm going to stop trying to get more than that.
Finally.

I've become the kind of pastor I said I never would.
How trite.
Agnostic about dogma and theology.
Is that disingenuous? Am I deceiving people?
Maybe if I was selling a product.
Maybe if I was selling certainty.
I'm not.

And yet, the silver lining in it all
Is that I'm finally much more interested in you
Than in anything about you.

I'm tired of thinking if I just figure more of you out
I'll know you more.
It doesn't work:
The more I learn about you, the less you make any sense
Like trying to hold smoke.

This existence, this way of life I have chosen
Or has been chosen for me...I honestly don't know or care anymore...
It's a lot harder than I anticipated.
It subtly wears me down
Wears away at my soul
I don't notice
Until I'm only bones.

I don't know how to do this.
I don't know how to be a pastor.
I don't know how to follow you.

I don't know.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
I'm nearly certain that you exist
But I'm increasingly unconvinced
That I can know anything about you absolutely.

We develop complex systems
To try and organize and systematize.
We bend over backwards
To constrain you to our truth.

We bleed you dry of beauty, of mystery
And claim a firm foundation of reason and fact.
A lifeless, dull, and decaying foundation.

Why do you die the more I try to define you?

Why are you so hidden?

Why are you so ambiguous?

I'm just like the rest:
I want you to be loud and conquering.

I don't want to be able to second guess.
Maybe that's akin to asking to no longer be human.
Okay.

"The two things you told me:
That you are strong
And you love me."

Love God and love others as yourself.
Sounds so simple and uncomplicated.
It gets murky so quickly.

Why?