Just Be

 

Sometimes faith comes down to the one basic simple assurance that “God is with me in this moment.” I’m not looking to Him to comfort, enlighten, convict, reassure, make confident of, acquit, or anything else. 

Our present existence is melded. And that is enough.

It took a bit of living, and getting over, the “religious” life to arrive at the point of God’s simple presence being sufficient, without my turning, at first light of daily dawn, to actions required of Him: saving people, holding so and so accountable, turning a particular situation around to my liking, making things right in relationships, clearing my name of an injustice, ending poverty, persecution, ignorance, willful rejection, hurt, anger, and on and on and on—the drumbeat of “let’s roll up our sleeves, God, and see what, primarily, You will do!!

I’ve come to experience that having none of that go through my mind is frequently best. 

A steadiness of listening, hearing, seeing and comprehending elicits a more objective, and certainly less self-occupied, perspective. 

I’m not asking God to see, I’m knowing he sees, and I’m now seeing right along with Him.

In this way, I can just be. 

God can just be. 

We can just be, together.

Not in eternal sunshine and happiness. But in whatever mood, dilemma, or personal enigma—free of solving, fixing, praying, lamenting, or jumping to hyper conclusions, be they joyous or fearsome. 

All goes directly and non-dramatically to God in a silent, penetrating connection between Him and myself, keeping the lanes of my heart and mind clear to continue to just abide and live out all God has transformationally wrought within me thus far. 

That is the surety that makes this possible. That is how I don’t regress. That is how I don’t let people hold me to their expectations of how I used to be, or how they remember me being, or how I ought to be (and me, them). 

That is how I prevent the failures and ignorance of yesterday from reappearing and polluting the present, no matter the triggers or attempts to bring those errors to the surface.

We have gained so much with God! And we have lost so much, in a good way, to gain it!

Let us be His redeemed, His forgiven, His made-right in a multitude of ways. Let us be His made strong. 

And let the calm and grace of that strength we share with Him, permeate. 

And be enough. 

Copyright Barb Harwood

Giving Up the Ghost of "Community"

When people wax nostalgic about “community,” what they are, in actuality, imagining or thinking worthy to emulate is a coterie of like-minded people who “go along to get along” (with those "going along" in a "show up and shut up" or suffer silently sort of way). 

When, however, someone with a varying or outright opposite or contrary viewpoint enters in to that community, or a longtime member demands too much from the group due to questioning or evolving perspective, or doesn’t contribute according to standard, that person becomes an outsider and most likely will never “fit in” until they “tow the community line.”

Sometimes they are booted out. 

Sometimes they are finger-pointed at and passively or aggressively confronted.

Sometimes the person wastes no more time and simply moves on. 

I truly believe that the ideal of “community” which most people adhere to, hope for and curate, is nothing more than group think and group act. 

Which is why “church-hoppers” will never find their church “home,” and why, in the current state of partisan politics, Democrats will rarely, if ever, concede greatness to a Republican, and a Republican will rarely, if ever, concede greatness to a Democrat. 

The beloved quest for diversity-in-community will never achieve its goal until people—each and every individual, young and old alike—stop being threatened by differing viewpoints and the people who hold them. 

Confident, assured individuals who are at peace with themselves will be sincerely inquisitive and able to carry on a mature, respectable conversation without shouting down another (either silently and internally, or outwardly). 

The potential for influence, after all, is only as great as one's ability to open their own mind--especially one that may heretofore have been closed--to thoughtful consideration of another's context and perspective. 

It's called a willingness to change, or a humble willingness to consider all the facts and not change, but also not force another to transform, or refuse their right to believe what they believe and be who they are.

In the end, I posit that “community” as most people dream it—to be with others who “think like I do, believe like I do, and act like I do” is actually quite detrimental, and no place in which I am pining to live. 

Copyright Barb Harwood