The In-between

I was going to be brave. I had set my alarm. Picked out an outfit. But I didn't sleep well. I turned off my alarm. I stayed in bed.

I appreciate that my bedroom is at the back of the house. A small dirt area and an old wood fence separate it from a two-story apartment building. My room is relatively dark the hours after the sun blazes into the heights.

This morning, a subdued antique gold color gently bathed through the window and stretched onto the wall. For some reason, it comforted me. I hadn't realized I needed to be comforted.

It's Easter morning. It doesn't feel like Easter. I am not sure what Easter is supposed to feel like these days.

Maybe I am a hopeless nostaglic and I have a tendency to remember what it used to be like back in the day. Not sure which day, just not today.

Even though it is Resurrection Sunday, I still feel very much as if I am stuck in Saturday. The in-between day. The everything-isn't-quite-right day because they didn't know what was to come. The day of not understanding. The day of mourning.

But I will keep running, walking, crawling, limping towards Sunday.

Maybe that's the point after all. Maybe it's always supposed to feel like the in-between because it always will be until it's not.

Lately, I have been wondering what I am supposed to be doing. I have my family and my job. But what more? I don't know. It could be that just being honest and raw in this space is the more for now. And I don't have to be brave, because I'm not, really. I just have to be obedient.

And eventually find a church again. Even if I feel as if I will never belong somewhere again, because I am incapable of fitting in.

Learning to be obedient in the in-between. It'll take a lifetime of grace-covered mistakes, but I won't give up on it. On Him.

A Mandate

Today is Maundy Thursday. Some people call is Holy Thursday. I have always appreciated the significance of this day. It is a day we remember Jesus' words: " A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."

Love. The opposite of hate. 

And He washed their feet. And He washed Judas' feet. He knew Judas' heart. He knew that Judas would betray Him, but He still washed his feet. Demonstrative love. 

And that kind of love - the kind that Jesus commanded us to emulate - doesn't ask us to decide who is deserving. It doesn't call for us to only love those we deem worthy of love. Or easier yet: those like us; those who don't threaten our sensibilities. 

And I just can't. I can't understand. 

I drove by a group of protesters the other day. They were down the street from a Planned Parenthood. There were adults down to elementary-aged children holding bright anti-abortion signs with pictures of ultrasounds and others of what looked like dismembered fetuses. And I just cannot fathom all that time and energy and resources. That isn't loving others. That is shaming them. 

Oh, how I wish that these people could have found a way to truly love others instead of belittle or shame them. To find ways to meaningfully intersect where there is hurt. Where people are scared and lost. To demonstrate love to those who need it the most. To serve. A modern day washing of the feet. 

And I just can't. I can't bring myself to church anymore. It's not for lack of trying. I've tried. Maybe the wounds prevent me from really trying anymore. But, I have tried plenty. 

I feel like I don't belong. I just don't fit in. And I don't, really. 

I don't belong in straight pews with rehearsed sermons and songs. I am way too messy for all of that. 

The other day, the mister and I were in the check out line at Trader Joe's. The man in front of us had forgotten his wallet, so I told the cashier to add his order to ours. The cashier was so taken aback by this. He couldn't believe that we were paying for someone else's items. He commented that this gesture was the nicest thing he had witnessed in a long time. 

And it made me sad, honestly. I mean, what does it really say about the state of humanity that someone purchasing eight dollars of groceries for someone else is the nicest thing he had seen in a long time? 

I don't know. 

Love. A command. 

Love each other. 

Make a difference.

That is all. 

Just love.