A few days ago, Bob showed up at our door offering us free tickets to see My Morning Jacket over at the Stir Cove….the next day. Bob and Teri are neighbors of ours who moved out this summer, and we hadn’t seen them in a couple of months. Teri works at Harrah’s and scored some free tickets for us and thought we’d like to go with them. How can you refuse that? We couldn’t. So we went. Even though we don’t really know any My Morning Jacket songs.
As I was getting ready, I couldn’t find anything hip enough to wear. Bob’s tattooed and pierced up, down and sideways: Teri’s a tough girl who loves metal bands and works nights. I could not live a more opposite existence. What to wear? A concert’s a little different than a backyard beer in your stretchy pants and t-shirt spattered with baby barf. Hmm. Michael tried shorts and a t-shirt topped with a Nebraska cap. Um, no. I don’t want them to think we’re square. Got anything edgier? And then I realized, what am I worried about? They obviously like us enough they way we are. Back to reality, Linds.
We like them, even though we have barely anything in common. They’re really giving people, even offering to babysit for us if we ever wanted to pull an all-nighter. (Let’s be honest – at midnight I turn back into a pumpkin.) They’ve been burned by folks like us. Teri’s parents (“good church people”) don’t speak to her because she dosn’t live like they think she should. I often find myself stumbling through conversation, trying to find common ground to build on.
And I wonder – can they tell there’s something different about me? Is there an abiding joy about me? Peace, even while living paycheck to paycheck? Humility, when I really want justice? Compassion, even though I really just want to catch a break? Love, even though I’m tempted to judge?
My thoughts are a little muddled: my pride just got checked.
I am reminded that Jesus was a man of no reputation. Except for Christ in me, I’m the same as them. I need to be less concerned with keeping up appearances, more concerned with love. Loving them is what I’m called to do. He doesn’t care about Teri’s “F— YOU” purse or her “Make Sex Not War” shirt. He sees that people judge Bob by the way he looks. He cares about their hearts, and living there. Who do I think I am that they should be impressed by me? I can’t hold them at arm’s length because I think I’m cooler-than or not-cool-enough. I only hope this little light of mine shines into their hearts just a bit brighter than I think it is.
God in my living / There in my breathing / God in my waking / God in my sleeping / God in my resting / There in my working / God in my thinking / God in my speaking / Be my everything, be my everything, be my everything, be my everything.
God in my hoping / There in my dreaming / God in my watching / God in my waiting / God in my laughing / There in my weeping / God in my hurting / God in my healing / Christ in me, Christ in me, Christ in me, the hope of glory – YOU are everything.
Be my everything. You are everything. Jesus, everything.