...Be a Cynic

It is easy this time of year to be caught up in busyness and excess. We live in the center of the first world. Even if we try not to give into materialism during the holidays, it’s difficult to avoid the bourgeois feeling of spending and consuming.

In a season otherwise marked by joy and hope, I’ll openly confess my inclination towards cynicism. Sometimes I question others’ motives, scoff at positivity, and give into hopelessness.

Therefore, as I ready myself for Christmas, stress seems more prominent than anything else. Adam asked a client yesterday if she was "ready for Christmas". My response would have looked like this: "I still have 4 presents to wrap, 3 things to make, 2 parties to go to, and a partridge in a pear tree". Her response was "I'm always ready for Him."

My skepticism showed. Her light showed.

So as I waited in line for my cup of holiday cheer from Starbucks, I wondered if I am light at all? Is there anything about me that shines before others? In the current condition of my heart, I’ll hazard a guess at “No”.

We are in a season of light. Not only the lights the led the Magi or appeared to the Shepherds, but lights that deck our halls and homes and towns. Like kids, Adam and I sat looking at our decorated living room where twinkling string lights made our home feel magical. They warmed our faces with a golden glow.

However, the merriment of the holidays doesn't take away the list of needs or hurts in our own lives or the lives of others. Given this revelation after a Christmas party last night, Adam and I started asking cynical questions. Can “bad” and “good” coexist? Is it God that allows it? If there is bad stuff, are we faking it in the good stuff?  We live in such a broken world – what the heck is the point, outside of Sunday school answers?

Any good story-line has a hero and villain. In Peter and the Secret of Rundoon (a lovely prequel to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan) Leonard Aster says to the evil Lord Ombra:

"Light overcomes darkness. A tiny match can illuminate the darkest room. As long as there is some light somewhere in the universe you can be defeated.”

My response to Adam in the midst of our cynicism was very similar to Leonard’s:  light wins. If darkness is the absence of light, then they must coexist. Darkness is literally defined by light.

The best stories have a good vs. evil scenario because all good stories mirror the Gospel (which literally means "good news"). If good overcomes evil and light wins over darkness, that means we have hope that anchors the soul. It is within my power to choose the see the world as a beautiful place to be.
 
So what is the cure for cynicism? Light.

Choose Light with me.

 "But if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin."
[1 John 1:7]

...Have Broken Relationships

Your heart was not created to endure love that starts and then ends. We were not created for broken relationships. And yet, here we are. Ever since the Garden when the first relationship was severed: the Creator and the created.

We’ve likely all been subject to relationships that end. I don’t just mean relationships that have been broken from divorce or death. Friendships end too, whether dissipated or deliberate.

As I write this, I will openly admit that my heart is broken. Not from a breakup. But because I am in a season of life where things are changing. Rapidly. My life looks new every day and with that comes a change in the cast of characters involved.

Some people have slowly become shadows along with the memories of them.  I understand that often things fade out to make room for new growth but I have to say, growing pains hurt.

After evaluating some changes in friendships, I sat wondering why it even mattered to me. There are many people who love me, call me, snapchat me, hang out with me. Yet, my heart focuses on those that no longer do. I felt like an idiot even wasting my time thinking about it. Why?

There are two things you must know about me that may shed some light:

1) I am a good friend.

Partially because I am intentional and caring but mostly because I wedge myself into people’s lives. It is not in my nature to take “no” for an answer. Therefore, if I think you’re worthwhile, I will pursue you as a friend, in the least stalkerish way possible.

2) I am a zealot. 

Whether in love or in hate, I do all things with zeal. I don’t ever do things in the middle. If I love you, I freaking love you. If I see something wrong, I will be the person to write a strongly worded letter or disavow a brand name.  

Basically, I’m a Hufflepuff: loyal and just.

As fierce as I pretend to be, I am fragile.

I don’t want loss to jade me; to make me lose my zeal or tenderness.

I have a wonderful husband. Almost every night before bed he whispers “Your God and your husband will never leave you.” I don’t say this to make you throw up from romantic gush but to ask, why is that even significant? It’s significant because we live in a world where people leave. Not out of spite or cruelty, but out of the nature of our brokenness. This is why the Gospel story is so impactful. It tells of a Love that Pursues and then a Love that Stays. Jesus Christ drew near and then endured. It’s something I highlight when telling people about Jesus because it’s countercultural.

So in the midst of our hurting one another, we are made holy. “…All the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.” Colossians 1:20 (MSG)

As I stated to a dear friend on a long drive yesterday, there’s no unmessy way for relationships to end. In short, because it’s not how we were designed. 

If you relate, I pray that you seek healing. Whether it be from a person you’ve lost a relationship with or just with the Lord – heal. Cease striving. Move on. But, by all means, allow yourself to hurt and feel and know that you are not silly or dumb or childish for feeling like you’re holding onto people that aren’t holding onto you.