A Letter to the World

I am participating in the Open Letter Challenge writing contest organized by Josh Irby. The following letter is my response to An Open Letter to You from the Rest of the World.

Dear World,

I love you!

I really do.

As I sit hear at Heathrow Airport in London, watching you walk by, listening to your languages and the laughter of your children, I'm struck by my love for you. I haven't always felt this way...but I do now.

For years, I was a afraid of you. You hurt me so many times, and I am pretty sure you'll do it again.

But I love you anyway. Not in a dysfunctional Stockholm Syndrome sort of way. Not in a wounded and abused spouse or child kind of way. Just hanging on and allowing myself to be pummeled for your pleasure sort of way.

I love you in a hopeful way.

I love you because I am part of you. You are my family. We are all children of the same Father. Our family has trouble, like every family, but we have to stick together and get through the trials and the tribulations so we can share in the joy and jubilation.

I know I have hurt you too, and I am sorry. I'm sorry I have lashed out at you. I'm sorry I have ignored and neglected you. I'm sorry I haven't been more responsive to your needs, to your cries.

But I have hope for us, for our family; broken and battered as it is, as we are. It doesn't have to be this way. It can be better. We can change. I know this because I have seen it, because I am living it.

I am changing. I am choosing to love even though it is risky. I am choosing to be brave even though I'm frightened. I'm choosing to care even when it hurts. I'm choosing to serve even when it is not seen. I'm choosing to give even when there is no gratitude. I'm choosing to do hard things, even though I really don't feel like it. I'm choosing to invest in my relationship with God, even though it doesn't always make sense.

As I do this, I am coming alive. I am becoming who I really am. I am finding freedom and joy that I thought were only found in fairy tales and legends. I am getting better. I'm getting stronger. And here's the thing...it's better over here!

There is real hope! We can get better!

Come with me. Lets do this thing together. Let's love and serve and care and give, and discover what we were made for.

We'll all be glad we did.

The Voice

I should be working today.

My desk is a mess. It's so bad that I am not even sitting there as I write this. I've moved into the other room. The problem is that I've been working in this room for a few days now, and I've pretty much destroyed this place too.

It tells me something about the state of my soul, when I allow my environment to disintegrate like this. But it doesn't feel bad. It feels like something is brewing, percolating, poking me.

But what? What is it?

I feel creativity rising up in me. I have felt it for weeks, although I haven't named it until this moment.
I now realize that I have been running from it.

But Why?

Because creativity is scary...at least to me. I feel this urge to create, but then I find myself struggling with my voices. The voices of my past, of my experiences, the voices in my head that come against creating. I recently marveled as I read Josh Irby describe these voices. I thought, "How does he know what happens when I try to create?"

It's not that I've been unhappy, or unhealthy. Aside from staying up a little too late and not getting as much sleep as I should, I've been fine. I've been experiencing God, loving my family, and doing my job. But I have also been trying to ignore The Voice.

There are times when The Voice is telling me to do something I don't want to do. I don't want to speak or to write. I don't want to risk. The voices tell me it is all for the best. I should just keep my head down, not aim too high, not venture too far. They are familiar, they comfort and cajole, they are part of me. When this wears thin, they do their best to intimidate and distract, but ultimately The Voice will be heard. The Voice is relentless.

The Voice invites me to be who He made me to be. The Voice invites me to create, and forces my creativity to the surface, the creative expressive part of me that He is redeeming, the best parts of me, the parts of me that are my own true voice. The Voice pushes and prods, making a way for me to approach the Throne of Grace and to take what I find there and to speak it, sing it, dance it, write it, to communicate it to the world.

Today, The Voice used a video by Dave Grohl (a video not for the faint of heart, but perfect for this old punk rocker) to remind me that my voice matters. To remind me that in choosing to create and express my voice there is freedom and power. The video itself felt like a distraction. But I was drawn to it, and couldn't stay away. In hindsight, I see that He was leading me to a voice that I would resonate with. Profane, but honest and insightful, He used Dave's voice to call forth my own.

So today I choose again to create and write, no matter what the critics think or the market will buy. The joy is in the journey not the response of the spectators. The victory is in the creating. But the greater victory is in harkening again to The Voice and enjoying the fellowship of the Spirit in this previously walled off area of my heart.