Barns and such
Well. My mom said that yesterday’s post made her want to throw herself off a building.
So there’s that.
But on another note, I got some emails from people who were saying that they’ve been there, felt that, got the t-shirt. Go figure – it seems that loneliness runs in the culture these days.
Thank you, friends (W, C, M, L, H, and G), for your words of solidarity. We should have a club. It can be called the Walking Wounded. Our mascot can be Toad the 3-legged dog.
Greta once heard a sermon in which the pastor (Richard Dahlstrom – holler) compared life to a barn. You can keep your barn empty, and therefore, very clean and orderly – but that’s not what a barn is meant for. A barn is made to house LIFE. And if you invite life into the barn, then you’re bound to have to shovel some shit.
Except I think that Pastor Richard probably didn’t said “shit.”
Guys, I don’t even really say “shit.” Sometimes the blog flies away from me, and all of a sudden, I’m a cusser. In real life, I only say cuss words when I stub my toe (often) or Gabe drags the kitchen trash all over the living room (thrice now).
Anyhow, I’ve passed this barn analogy along to a few people, and it seems really pertinent to me all of a sudden. To invite others in is to welcome the mess. In a way, it’s what we’re made for.
A few months ago when I was in Nashville, I heard another pastor (Craig Brown – holler again) say that we’re so quick to say that we don’t need Jesus – that is, until we come into contact with other people. Then, all of a sudden, people are bugging us and letting us down, and we’re failing and disappointing them and becoming the worst versions of ourselves – and without warning, we realize that we need a savior.
I tend to like the idea of being self-sufficient. I don’t like to need anyone or anything – because what if the needing is met with… nothing?
But luckily, my needing isn’t met with nothing. There’s grace enough for you, and – miracle of miracles – grace enough for me.