Lost (?) in Translation

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again!"

That seems to have been the mantra of my life for the past couple weeks. I have been spinning in circles for several days (years really) trying to find answers to some of life's toughest questions, getting dizzier and dizzier.

Can you guess what happened next?

I fell down. Face first.

I could just picture God shaking His head at me.

You see, all along I've been ignoring His voice, content to just trudge through the mud on my own. Who knows what's best for my life better than me, right??

In this moment, the thing I love most about my God is His uncanny ability to take the right answer (the one I've been avoiding) and knock me right over the head with it. He lets us flounder around for as long as we choose because He loves us enough to give us that choice. But when we finally spot Him offshore we're shocked that He's been holding up a giant neon-sign the entire time. After all the struggling, I realize that every single encounter, every question, every word of advice all pointed to the same answer.

I just wasn't ready to hear it.

The Art of Caring

Apathy. It's so much easier. It's less painful. It's less complicated. People are bound to let you down; they are bound to fail. We live in a broken world full of lies, rejection, heartbreak. Relationships are often like wars - one side is always winning, always fighting harder leaving the other side in the dust to collect their wounded. With the risk of injury so high, why enter the fight at all? Wouldn't it just be easier to live life on the outskirts, caring for yourself and avoiding the possible threat of danger altogether?

Why should I even care?

Why bother loving others when there's no certainty that they'll love me in return?

These are thoughts that run through my mind constantly. Everytime someone lets me down, everytime I'm disappointed, everytime I face rejection I am reminded of how much it hurts to love, how much empathy costs me. I battle the desire to give it all up and live in solitude, to cut all ties and relish the freedom independence seems to bring.

But then I remember.

I remember how much I am loved, how much I am cared for. I remember how much pain was felt on my behalf. I remember how much pain I have caused because of my own imperfections. Suddenly, my selfish desire to protect myself seems so futile.

So I'll strap my helmet back on and forge out into the fray. I'll stand at the frontlines of the battle that is relationship and I'll take the blows that come my way. There is always a chance that I'll be wounded; scars are inevitable. But for every scratch and bruise I take I know that I am inflicting a far greater mark on those that I'm fighting for.

If, at the end of my days on this earth, at least one person can say that I have affected their lives because of my love for them, every pain will be far worth it.

(Please read 1 John 4:7-21)