Chaotic

I love Easter. I love the process of Holy Week and the grief of Good Friday, and I love the way that order is restored when the sun bursts over the horizon on Easter morning. I love the way I've learned to celebrate liturgical holidays. I love the traditions of Beira and St Julian's. I love the culture my family and I created over our years of global adventure. I love that laughter is a focal point in said culture. 

As I look back on our years together as a family in various parts of the world, I enjoy the chaos. The chaos that comes so organically with the poor infrastructure of the third world. The chaos that comes out of cultures less preoccupied with the hustle and bustle of capitalism and individualism. I love that my childhood is built around this premise of chaos. When you live in a vibrant, multi-cultural community, you learn and experience other cultures, but you also experience families' personal takes on culture. As you find kindred spirits across cultural boundaries, your traditions arise out of chaos. The thread of human experience, love, and joy join your lives together, and you learn to not take the details too seriously. Sometimes, pumpkin pie just doesn't taste right when not made from processed and packaged ingredients. That's okay. Sometimes, Christmas is celebrated in 20 degree weather, Celsius. That's okay, too. Sometimes, Easter happens as the sun comes up over the Indian ocean and the fishermen haul in their catch. That's okay. Traditions are not always about consistency. Sometimes, they're about finding common ground among the inconsistency of life. My life and my culture has been born out of quirky chaos and I wouldn't do it differently if I had the option…

Now, how do we handle the day when you return out of this chaos into a culture that revolves around the very traditions you tried and failed to replicate? I'm missing the chaos this weekend. I'm missing sharing that chaos with similarly chaotic people. But missing things is passive and just sad. So, there are options. Replacing the missing things. Repressing the sense of missing. Moving on. But, that makes me sad, because at the end of the day, I'm losing things and I prefer not to lose things I love. And yet somehow, this seems to be a theme in this whole growing up process. I don't like this. I don't like this one bit…. That's okay, too.

Where's the chaos in Easter? I think the only moment that didn't hold a chaos of emotion and activity was the moment Jesus gave up his spirit and died on that cross. That gasp of breath. That eerie silence. Before it dawned on his disciples and family. Before the dramatic tearing of the curtain. Sometimes, I feel like I'm caught up in a moment of anti-chaos. Unable to find words or an expression of grief as the chaos grinds to a halt. 

Sometimes, life feels like some sort of divine dramatic irony. A letdown. An anti-climax. A tragedy that plays out in a matter of minutes. But, you might interject here that you know the ending. The tomb, the stone, the angels, the women and disciples, afraid to hope, Jesus' reappearance… It's exciting and insane and dramatic. It's the ultimate victory. So, we find ourselves in that moment and we keep pressing forward because we know that good must win at the stroke of dawn. We convince ourselves that the end of this tough stretch is just around the next corner. It might be. Or it might not be. Then what? 

Sometimes, I feel that the reward aspect of being in the service of God is exaggerated. I feel that way because I don't see it playing out in my life as I would like it. So, here's the secret. You don't run the show. Your artistic vision for your life is not necessarily going to become a reality. You have to run it by the producer, and He's got a mind of His own. God didn't have to let His Son die. He didn't have to re-instate the glorious chaos of the Kingdom of God on Earth. He could have just been like, "I give you the Messiah and you kill Him… Classy." Is God sarcastic? I don't know, friends, but He never misunderstands my sarcasm. Anyways, He didn't do that… Because He loves us for some crazy, illogical reason. But he let the grief and helplessness sink in before the sunrise of redemption. It's mostly about timing, His timing. It's mostly about learning to trust out of anger, hurt and sassy conversations with heaven. 

I love my chaotic life. I love my memories of Easters and Christmases and other assorted holidays with my family around the world. And to be straight with you, I haven't found anything here that comes close to those memories. When your world is born out of chaos, it's tough to give it form again. It's tough to sit through Good Friday, to wait for that Easter sunrise. But as I frequently tell my dear friend, Beka, life is tough. Sometimes, life with Jesus is even tougher, because you know the ending and you're anxiously awaiting for it to come to pass. However, God seems to have stuff to teach us as we walk through the middle bits. I guarantee that you'll like about 5% of the stuff. The image that comes to mind is combing out knotty, long hair. After one too many road trips, I know that experience all too well. Shockingly, the pain and discomfort is worth the shiny, untangled hair. Like much of life, however, it is cyclical. Untangled hair can always become tangled again. And it's all rather pointless, except that we know the ending and we get to live in hope of its coming. Hope out of confusion. Hope out of chaos. Hope out of unredeemable circumstances. Hope out of unthinkable loss. I love Easter because I love hope. Lots of smart people said great things about hope. I want to live it. Not talk about, but live in it and be transformed by it. 

"I've got the world behind me and the cross before me; the straight and narrow is where you'll find me. I have decided to follow Jesus." - traditional (with some Andy DesRoches flair)

Dissonant

Sometimes, living in my head is like a piece of modern music: chaotic, inspired and uncontrollably dissonant. Besides the fact that I get overwhelming sensations of cultural estrangement, the over-analytic side of my brain takes hold and then, only time will tell what sorts of nonsense will come pouring out. Analytical, romantic, creative, logical, spontaneous… It can verge on whirlwind territory. One thing I know for sure though. Every thing I think and feel seems to be at odds with the surrounding symphony. It gets sort of disorienting after a while. 

These days, every time I give words to what I feel, it comes out differently. Quantitatively, qualitatively, I have no sound method of recording this state of mind. So, to lessen the pressure of my brain, I'm writing… To untangle a corner of the mess. For me, it all comes back to something I stumbled across this week. On Friday, one of my literary heroes passed on, Chinua Achebe. Looking for a fitting way to remember him, I stumbled across a quote of his: “One of the truest tests of integrity is its blunt refusal to be compromised." Now, I don't claim that I have integrity of superhuman proportions, but it is a quality I seek to emulate in my life and in my sense of self…

Over the last weeks, I seem to be perpetually confronted with situations that would have been less complicated if I had merely compromised pieces of my sense of self. Everything from my understanding of friendship to my penchant for sass. Each time, I've debated the merits of compromise. Compromise for love or companionship. Compromise to save face. Compromise to appease people's hurt pride. Now let me explain something here. I'm not equating compromise with the humility necessary to recognize when you are in the wrong. To me, that humility is essential, compromise… Well, I'm not convinced. Are you really a person of integrity if you literally go any way the wind blows? Would I rather please a majority of the people who surround me or fall asleep every night content with the humility and confidence with which I was Davita that day? 

I can't say that right now I'm okay. My heart is heavy. My brain is buzzing. For better or for worse, I'm going to be me. I'm going to fall in love with calculus every Tuesday and Thursday morning. I'm going to read books and spend days trying to process their majesty. I'm going to be a staunch little girl, retreating to the wisdom and encouragement of my parents on a daily basis, even when they're halfway across the world. I'm going to choose who to give my heart to, hopefully, with more and more discernment. I'm going to expect too much of the world and its people and watch my heart break every time it disappoints. Not because it's particularly popular or even healthy somedays, but because I don't want to look back and sense a compromise of the self I've been taught to value and love. 

Today, someone told me that they loved my energy and the way I pick up on small things and laugh (specifically during church services). Although we can talk about whether or not it is proper to laugh during church (I personally believe that God is a great proponent of laughter in His house), I want to talk about why I laugh wholeheartedly when my soul is otherwise downcast. Because, why the heck not? There are lots of weird, quirky people on this planet who do endless weird, quirky things, providing you with ample fodder for witty commentary. There is entirely too much reason in this world to laugh. And there are endorphins or something scientific.

 So, no answers, no grand declarations, no harmony of mind, heart and soul. Just dissonance. Dissonance within and without myself. And endless Billy Joel songs. Seriously, Billy, GET OUT OF MY HEAD. This world is cruel to those who hope and dream for fulfillment. So, I'm keeping my head down, letting my wounds heal and stretching a hand out to heaven for the strength and grace I cannot dredge up. 

Just read/listen to the lyrics to Vienna about a thousand times…

"Slow down, you crazy child…" - Billy Joel

More

Deserve is a funny word. It's one of the first things that pops out of any good girlfriend's mouth when a boy breaks your heart, "You deserve way better!". But then, you start to list all of the heartbreaker's good qualities and you protest, "But they're a great guy/girl… They seemed like the perfect choice at the time." But, see, the deserving isn't in their unique combination of desirable qualities. It's lost the minute they break your heart. The minute they don't recognize you for all your uncomfortably weird and uncommonly beautiful glory. A friend of mine spoke this truth into my life last weekend from her own recent struggles. Finding common ground of struggle is such a blessing. So, praise God for the common threads of human experience.

This doesn't just extend to matters of romance. This extends to the people you fill your life with. Sometimes, they can be phenomenal people in their own right and phenomenally toxic in your relationship with them. It's the combination, not the individual. It doesn't lessen the other person's right to life and love, but when they get in the way of your inalienable right to be joyful, that's when things get hairy. Sometimes, more is less. Sometimes, more is pruning people from your life who make you less you. Sometimes, more is just you, standing up for your right to be recognized and loved and treasured. 

Praise God for Jesus, because most of the time, He's all the more you need. Because He loves and recognizes you to the extent that you deserve and then some. And, in Him, we are so much more than conquerors. We have a stamp of love and grace on our hearts that leads us to full and abundant life. Jesus is a weird mixture of love you deserve and don't deserve at the same time. So, rest in the humble confidence of being a child of God who has been fearfully and wonderfully made. And, love, serve and respect mankind, because like you, they deserve more.

Let me close with some song lyrics that have echoed through my head frequently as of late:

"Every single broken heart will lead you to the truth

you think you know what you’re lookin’ for

til what you’re lookin’ for finds you

In a cold world, it’s a warm place

where you know you’re supposed to be

A million moments full of sweet relief

when the right one comes along"