Love Speaks Loudly

So, I'm not usually one of those people who responds to provocation, unless the provoker is Josh...in which case, he's the flame to my gasoline....vapors....it's explosive. But nevermind all that...give us some boxing gloves and a ring, a brave ref, and eventually, we'll get this mess all sorted out. But what I been thinkin' on wasn't provoking in a bad way... quite the opposite. I read a post that provoked me to take a good look at myself, at my heart, at what I honestly believe about life and ask myself some serious questions. And, since I'm my own interrogater...I reckon I'd better have some answers.

I've always believed in Jesus. I can't tell you why, I just do. Now, those who've known me for more than the last 20 minutes know that I've not always lived like I believe in Jesus. I've been the worst of the worst and I know it. I no longer even deny it. In fact, anyone who hangs around me regularly knows that you're very likely to catch a good glimpse now that'd make ya wonder about my faith. I'm a human being, I screw up a thousand times a day, at least. Thankfully, I've learned that empty beer cans and Marlboro packs are not tickets to hell and that I don't walk around with a big red "A" on my chest, and I don't have to walk with my head held down in shame because of my past. But let me tell you about where I didn't learn these things...in a church.


My friend's post said something to the effect of being judged most harshly by "Christians". That hurt me...for her and for the Jesus I know, the one the Bible talks about. I don't even know this Jesus who's name has been used as an excuse to judge and condemn for far too long. It hit a nerve and I'm not done bein nervy yet. This sort of behavior makes me furious, whether or not it's one of my friends who's been affected. I guess probably because I've been there.


I, too, have been judged most harshly by people who called themselves Christians, people who's names are listed as members of churches that they attend like clock work in their very best Sunday attire. People in the community I looked up to and aspired to be like when I was 20 years old...until their (very open) rejection hit me square in the face. I remember, vividly, being at a point of such desperation in my life back then. Josh & I were just kids trying to raise kids...he was never home for all his running around and I was only home because I worried too much about what others would think and say about me if I wasn't. We were broker than broke and having the worst run of luck with our vehicles, appliances, etc. I hated him, he hated me...God only knows how we've stayed together. It was pure hell...I can only think of one or two times in my life when I've been more miserable.

So, at this point in my life when I'd rather been dead than alive, it was said to me that, "perhaps, I might oughta think about darkening some church doors". I hope what was meant was that God could help when no one else could. That's how I took it. Josh all but laughed at me when I suggested church, so I loaded up the kids and went alone. It never occurred to me that the clothes in my closet wouldn't be nearly good enough to wear...oh, how naive I was! I don't know whether to laugh or cry when I think about it. I put on my jeans and a tee shirt and dressed the kiddos like I always did and set out to encounter a God who would change my life. I marched in there with a heart full of hope and no more than broke the threshold when I knew that not only was I not accepted, I was not welcome. I'm not sure what kept them from just flat out asking me to leave...maybe the toddler and two year old I had at my side. Maybe God Almighty decided to let me get a good fill of it so I'd never treat anyone that way. Who knows? What I do know was that I was extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed but too proud to turn around and run back out the door. I wasn't dressed right, I wasn't married, the guy I lived with wasn't even the father of the two kids I had....who did I think I was showing up at their church?? Sullying their atmosphere with my presence? The attack was vicious, yet subtle...harmless in appearance to the onlooker but the arrows were well aimed and I left wounded. I will never forget that day....ever.

It burned me on church for sure and on God for awhile too...but in my heart, I still knew that Jesus wasn't like these people...these people who are hateful and critical but they wear his second name like a big, picket-sign sized badge and climb up on their pews so they can look down on everyone. If they're reading the same Bible I read, they have to know that Jesus Christ didn't hang with the well dressed and monetarily secure...no, you'd find him among the hookers and liars and thieves. People like me who lived some seriously screwed up lives combined with some seriously bad choices and knew they needed some serious change. The very last thing I needed was for another somebody to make me feel like a nobody, like I didn't measure up and that I'd already made so many mistakes in my life that hope would forever be on my horizon but never in my hands.

God was gracious enough, years later, to lead me by a love of music into another fellowship of people and plant a man with a past similar to mine in front of me to teach me about who God really is and confirm to me that yes, indeed, just as I'd suspected, Jesus truly does love me. And there are no stipulations on that love. Refreshing discovery...seemed like every "love" I'd ever known came with a pretty expensive price tag and always left me broke and broken. These people taught me what love and acceptance was in the midst of my levi's and martial status. My life didn't suddenly snap to perfection but I did and still am acquiring new perception on how to deal with all the imperfection of it.

I once heard it said something like this...People don't need to read your Christian tee shirt or hear your "churchy" talk when they haven't got the money to feed their kids or enough gas to get to work. They need food and gas. They need to know that someone gives a damn, to put it frankly, and is willing to help them out, regardless of who they are or where they come from.
My favorite tee shirt simply says, "Love is the Answer". Love needs no introuduction, you can say "I love you" a thousand times a day but it doesn't make it true. People aren't stupid...we know what love feels like. It will never do anyone an ounce of good for me to stand and proclaim my faith in Christ, "I'm a Christian", should never be the only sentence I speak to someone. I have to be willing to put my feet to walking out the love that is Christ and he will speak for himself.