Bedraggled Humanity

Through out my life I’ve often found that I associate myself with the lowly characters Jesus chose as disciples. I often think of Paul’s words when I find myself acting in a way that I wish I wouldn’t act. And then, I realize perhaps this is the very reason that Jesus chose these men. The last few years I have found my self a prodigal son, or if not a prodigal, at least a person struggling to regain a foothold of truth, purity and faith. Maybe you’re like me, a person who doesn’t have it all together and hastens to cling to what you’ve known because of your wounds.

My experience in being the prodigal son covered a span of time in my life; finding that the beliefs I grew up in left little room for loving others and left me struggling to reconcile true faith. When my parents left the Church as a young adult I found myself dealing with the harder issues of life and forming a false sense of truth - my actions all too often not representing the beauty and truth of who Jesus is.

Although I’d been burned up and burned out and found myself fighting my way back from the dead, and although I was still in a place of the wounded, a soldier at war, the last few years have been a testament to my strength and God’s grace and provision. You see it was only a few years ago that I had lost everything I’d ever worked for, my savings, my house, a promising career, friends and a relationship.

At one point I found myself destitute, impoverished, hungry and alone. Much like Jesus, I found myself homeless without a place to lay my head. And although many people in my life had witnessed these occurrences, few knew the depth of my pain. This was a storm I would have to weather alone, a storm where Jesus would be my only friend. And like the aftermath of many storms of life I was left to wonder at just what had happened.

One night alone in my apartment I watched an interview on CNN with author Ishmael Beah about his book A Long Way Gone. He said in the interview that “it was never beyond anyone’s ability to lose their humanity” if they were to be led into the wrong places, meaning that we are all subject to doing things we would not usually do, becoming people we wouldn’t normally become, that we’re capable of being inhumane under some of life’s toughest circumstances.

And I wondered at the depth of his statement because I understood what he meant by this. I could see how life has the ability to change us all. That I had become a person I did not recognize. Looking back over the last few years and into my character today I find that I had been lacking. And even though I was still licking my tattered wounds and even though I could associate with Job and Jebez from the Bible, it was no excuse to be living in a way contrary to my beliefs. I think all to often we have a difficult time in bringing our burdens to the cross.

So many times we hear that war changes a person, that soldiers become shell- shocked and can no longer cope within society. But we rarely take notice that we are selves are at war. That the ghosts on the streets today walk through Jackson Square looking for rest. And much like the war-torn, I too had been changed. Too often I found myself getting angry and frustrated, quicker to judge in efforts of protecting myself. That sadness had replaced joy and fear had replaced hope. My wounds, worn like my heart on my sleeves.

But lately God has been pulling at my heart and I have been taking notice of my deplorable state. How it saddens and makes other uncomfortable. Yet I scream, can’t you see I am wounded? I see now that the world is full of the wounded, that I am not alone.

I once read that most of us believe in Gods grace - in theory. But somehow we can’t seem to apply this to our daily lives. And we continue to see Him as a small-minded bookkeeper, tallying our successes and failures on a scorecard. And that God gives us his grace, willingly, no matter what we’ve done. When we come to him as ragamuffins - dirty, bedraggled, and beat up. And when we sit at His feet. He smiles upon us - the chosen object of His furious love - and welcomes us home.

And I wonder at the beauty of this and think, “this is good news”!