waking up

I helped Jaeson Ma exorcise last week. What’s that you say? Yes. Exorcism.

I think I have officially crossed the line now. The experience of witnessing a young man leaving a life of darkness, rebellion, and deception from Satan in the course of one night was liberating. Yes, I have crossed the line that says, “only absurdity beyond this line.”

Beacuse I’m sick of living rationally. I’m tired of living the way the world tells me to live. I cannot stay in this world one second longer without either going crazy or declaring that God does not exist. Maybe I’m losing my mind.

But I think it is okay to believe in the power of God to change lives. Because if it is a lie, then I don’t see much of a purpose for praying with persistence, I will keep sinning like God’s Spirit isn’t present, I will continue to think small — leaving God out of the equation, preferring predictability to adventure, safety to faith, a painless existence to life — just living a Warren-sized life, when it could be so much more. If God is all-powerful, I must live like Jesus is waiting to break in on my world every single moment. I must expect the miraculous. I must expect the rules of the Kingdom to turn my relationships upside down. I must believe in the impossible.

Hot or cold, or else I will spit you out.

I learned something yesterday. I think if suffering comes for you, there is nothing you can do to escape it. Control is a lie.

Yesterday, as my health took a nasty turn during Haven’s trip to Tahoe, I thought it would be enough to just get home and rest. The altitude had robbed my lungs of their strength, and I figured once I got back to sea level, things would be okay. Then suddenly, I found out that my place was robbed — my amp, effects pedals, desktop computer, DVDs and CDs, and more were all taken. I decided not to sleep in San Jose last night. And my mom ended up having to take me to the ER for my breathing problems. It was a pretty bad day. I don’t know if I’ve had worse.

I don’t mean to demean anyone else’s suffering. I could have lost much more than my health and my posessions yesterday. I could have lost my home, my friends or family, or even my life. I think I’m looking at this from the only honest perspective I can, which is one of shock, anger, disappointment, and agony. I don’t pretend to be above this kind of loss… if anything, it has exposed my desire for control in my life, and shown me that I have many things in which I put my happiness. I don’t think it is wrong, either, to expect God to protect you.

I felt the same way when my tires got slashed. I felt like God didn’t care.

But now, with this fresh in my mind, needing to reflect in order to make any sense out of this… I have to believe that Jesus cares. And yet, I have to believe that there are times we are so wounded that we cannot fathom that He cares. In my anger, I kinda wanted to curse God and die, like Job’s wife told him. Who knows, if more happened to me yesterday, maybe I would have lost my mind. I did not lose my children/wealth/health all at the same time.

“What did I do wrong?” is a question I asked a few times last night. It is the wrong question to ask. The question to ask is, “Do You care?” Because if He cares, then everything is different. Material posessions don’t matter, convenience doesn’t matter, earthly justice doesn’t even matter. The care of God frees us from what we know, and frees us to know Him.

This is different than suffering for no reason… just accepting it as a reality, dealing with it, and moving on… because this means that there is purpose in it. And it’s simpy that He suffered, so we must as well. This is a fundamental shift in our thinking, and it flows out all the way to how we deal with any loss.

James said we should welcome trials with open arms and a smile. I don’t think I’m there yet, but I hope I will be someday. Then I’d be really crazy.