It's Best to Give Praise When Praise is Due.

I've had a few weeks' worth experience, now, in the realm of dealing with people who are seemingly certifiably insane. I can't claim to be an expert, but I've had my fair share of crazies since taking on this whole thing. I've been frequenting every week, though I haven't been writing about it much. The lack of writing doesn't correlate with lack of motivation, it's more of a need to process the events that have taken place.

I met this one man, Paul, who was this man about 5'6", African-American, homeless, and brash. I had just had a great time with my friend, Bobby, when Paul comes out of NOWHERE and starts giving us a lecture on how my friends and I are all going to hell. At first, I say "Oh, my," and not think anything of it and then I come to the place of, "Oh, crap. If this guy is doing this to everyone he meets (which I'm sure he was), then this is stuff that the good guys have to clean up. This guy is screwing it up for us all!" I end the conversation after he tells us we're all doomed because he's the only true prophet in these parts and he's the only one who'll be saved. I get really frustrated by it, and then it turns into being genuinely pissed off. I get in the van we drove in and I start ranting about how wrong this guy and how he messes up the scriptures more than a Mormon, and then I end up being counseled by my friends to let it go. I calm down on the ride back by listening to Manchester Orchestra, and then I go to sleep.

Throughout the next week, I end up praying for grace and patience for me towards the guy. Turns out, God answers prayer. I find the peace in my heart to let it all go and to love Paul. Regardless if I think he's completely full of it, I'm entitled to turn the other cheek and then turn back in love, grace and peace. I get there the next week and then I end up finding the guy again. My spirit is hesitant but willing to try and get the friendship/acquaintance back on the right foot, so I nervously go over and try to start conversation with him again, but it doesn't really go over well. In fact, it went over about as well as last time. No sooner did I say the words, "How are you today, Paul?" did this guy jump down my throat with post-rapture/tribulation theory. Man, I didn't need that. And then the guy finds out I'm a missionary, claims I'm going to hell, tells me I'm a hypocrite (again), and then says everyone that I think I'm saving from the depth of depression, I'm sending to hell. This hurt me. Bad. And then I apologized for the week before about my anger towards him, thinking that the grace the Lord had clearly given me would work, but it didn't. In fact, I was rejected. And the spirit I tried to spread was snuffed out like a cheap scented candle that no one wants to smell because, instead of smelling like watermelon, it smells like mothballs. I cried the whole 45 minutes home as my friends cradles me in their arms and prayed for me. I listened to Derek Webb and tried to sleep, fearful that I might just actually be what the man was telling me that I was.

This spurred a whole week of feeling like I was worthless. Nice job, Paul. And then I went through the same grueling process of trying to sift out lies from reality (this, I've found, is harder with someone who has a ridiculously active imagination). Was I really a hypocrite? Was everything I thought I was doing for nothing? Was my theology completely false? Did my God love me like I thought he did, or was I just shitting myself? I had a lot to think about, and sort through, but I came out on top. And I still am.

Paul, I forgive you for telling me things you had no right to say. I forgive you even more for how you hurt me and how you told me I was illegitimate. I also forgive you for the other people you've hurt and given a false gospel to. I also pray for you, as you mentioned in passing that your family doesn't speak to you due to how you "spread the good news", and how your fiancee left you. I can only assume this has something to do with the brashness of your words and the tongue that you seem to possess to demoralize someone who holds themselves upright. I forgive you, Paul, because there's no point or gain in hate. You really have nothing on me, and I hope and pray the Lord reveals the truest and most gracious form of love to you ever. Grace and peace to you.

On a brighter note, I've found that God answers prayers. My friend Bobby, if you remember, has a van. This van's carburetor caught on fire. This van then was burnt and almost blew up. Bobby's hand then got pretty cooked. I've never seen this guy without the, "We're going to get through this" sort of face on him. This time, however, he has a little droop on the corners on his mouth, like a kid who just got a lousy report card. He's on disability because his leg got crushed in a motorcycle accident back in '94. He gets one check a month for about enough money to not cover any bills. He went and got a quota to see how much this was going to run him and it came to about $500. It was five hundred more than he had, and he was getting pretty discouraged. A couple of my friends and I prayed for Bobby and for God's provision. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that God can do freakin' anything. If I can be on anti-depressants for three years and then stop and not have any sort of depression anymore, then God can do something for this guy.

Next week we see his van pull up and he honks the horn loudly. (Like I said in earlier posts, orange coat: just as loud personality) He gets out and starts going off about how great God is and how much he provides. As we get past the excitement speeding his speech, it turns out someone did the repair on the carburetor for about 60 bucks: nearly a tenth of what he had been told it would cost. Whether that's luck or prayer, that's still amazing. I'm glad to be part of it. Always.

I've come to the conclusion that Christianity is always harder than I think it is. Every time that I feel I'm on top o' the mountain and secluded from any form of negative emotion, I'm reminded that I live in a world full of humans. Not to say that the world is a sinking ship and we should all jump, but it definitely is a sobering realization that people are very conflicting at points, and sometimes very disturbing. It helps give me a mindset of: this is what I'm in the business for. I'm here to help the broken-heart heal, to give hope to the hopeless and profess and live that peace is the true way (Isaiah 61). There's a time for peace, a time for war, a time for relaxation and a time to settle the score. But in times like these, it's best to give praise when praise is due. Theology is not worth the argument, methodology isn't usually worth getting pissed off about, and love needs to be the ultimate goal. Period.

For all of us who have hurt each other, let us love. Tolerance isn't enough, as we've seen often with the church's unfortunate dropping the ball on most things in America and across the world. As we come to love each other, let us remember what true love is. For all the the times that we've killed one another, stabbed them in the back, destroyed others' spirits, and degrade them to lower than something worth the cost of Christ, let us love. Let us forgive. Let us be the humans God intended us to be.

Grace and peace to all.

"If you care to sing forgiveness songs, come down and join our band. We'll cut you like a sword and we'll sing forgiveness songs."
--mewithoutYou