acts.1.eight

my friend matt told me of a friend of his that likens the time after his kids leave to a time of mourning.  he asked me if my experiences are similar.  here was my answer:

“i usually refer to the time after i drop gunnar off as the “gunnar hangover”. i have never thought of it as mourning, but that certainly is an apt description. my room never feels more quiet or more empty than sunday nights when i come home from dropping him off. for the most part, i’m over it by monday night or tuesday morning. but it really depends on how quickly i choose to fold up his play pen and put his blankets away. the longer they stay in plain view, the longer the feeling lingers. once it’s out of sight, it tends to move out of mind. but my heart hurts a lot during the course of the 12 days when i don’t see him. even as i write this, the eyes are getting hot and the throat is getting a bit choked. i know i’ve felt love in the past, but not like this. it’s different.”

i have written similar sentiments on here before, but this is the reality i’m living in this week.  i just spent last week, possibly the greatest holiday i’ve ever had, with my son.  we rode the train home to my mom’s and spent time with my family.  and then we rode the train back.  and i took him home to his mom’s.  and i didn’t cry on the drive home.  but i did after work on monday when it was even more apparent that i was heading back to an empty room.  my mom tells me that she experiences her greatest times of missing us right after we leave.  and even more so when we have been home for longer visits.  i can certainly relate.  i will see him again this weekend, which helps.  it’s strange.  while mourning seems like such an apt description for what i’m going through.  i cannot say that i am depressed.  sadness doesn’t even seem to do it justice.  it is just a different kind of wanting to be with someone.  i guess it’s called love.

and down with it went our pain and fear
there are things on the horizon that i have been discussing with a few close associates.  things about ministry.

about church.  about collaboration.  about a team.  about vision.  about forgiveness.  about reconciliation.  about planting.  about growing.  about training.  about serving.  about loving.  about relationship.  about living.

pray for me.  pray for us.  the fields are ripe with harvest.  and there are workers that are willing.  just tell us where. and when.  and how.

i’m there.

it’s not so much what they are asking me to do.  it’s not so much that i need to regain their trust.  the question remains:  am i forgiven?

granted, i have not formally apologized to them.  not to those at that level of importance.  perhaps that would be a step for me.  make my apology.  ask for forgiveness.

and accept the consequences.

and so it may be that they would inform me that the consequences are such that there is no reconciliation.  while that may be disappointing, it certainly would allow me to move on.  and it  could be that they would inform me that a freedom appointment is merely the next step in a never-ending road to trust regained.  while that would be frustrating, at least it would begin to reveal the path to restoration.

forgiveness.  maybe i will never understand.  an apology can be accepted and forgiveness extended, but consequences (in the earthly sense) are not always to be excused.  if you destroy the  structure of trust.  rebuilding must take place.  sometimes from the ground up.  wounds must be given time to scab over.  and scabs must be left alone to minimize the scar.

healing must take place.  trust must be regained.

reciprocation.  is the hurt they caused me inconsequential? hardly.  i need to feel care extended in my direction.  i need to feel as though my wounds are as valid as the wounds i have inflicted.  i cannot continue to be met with silence.  my expectation is not overwhelming.  just that there be something.

the truth is, they could send me the very same message they are sending me now:

“he needs to do a freedom appointment, but even that doesn’t guarantee anything.”

but show some compassion in their delivery:

“we love you and we forgive you.  we want to begin to rebuild trust with you and to start that off we’d like you to participate in a freedom appointment.”

notice the difference?  am i asking too much?

care for me.  care about me.  say something.  anything.

right now your silence is deafening.

apparently.  it is all about the image.

mine has been fractured.  and i have had to work hard (at least in the eyes of some) to try and repair my own image.  then it turns out that the repair job is really as much about their image as anything else.  how they are perceived.  as a result of my wrong-doing.  how their structure has been damaged.  by my missteps.

i wrestle with it.   with the fact that there was never an encouraging word.  that there was no attempt to provide care or comfort.  that when i needed to see faces.  individuals (not the organization) turned their backs.  they saw me lying.  on the side of the road.

bloodied.

and they walked right past.

the good samaritans bandaged my wounds and are nursing me back to health.  an ongoing.  long.  painful process.  of rehabilitation.  restoration.  reformation.

the religious leaders of the day have made it clear.  had i followed their path.  their recommendations.  things would be ok.  an appointment with freedom.  preplanned and scheduled.  don’t break the rules or you may never get back to a place where your gifts and passions and desires are put to the most effective of uses.  don’t break the rules or else.  do not.  break the rules.

the pendulum swings in the direction of forgiveness.  as it usually does.  and i am in the place of needing to let go.  and i am in the place of needing to get past the sting.  when they ask me to swim across rivers and climb tall mountains.  i must tell them that i was hurt and not hold the hurt against them.  and then swim and climb to clear my name.  and climb and swim to pay my debts.  and swim.  and climb. and swim.  to repair the image.

and i can and will expect from them.  nothing.

but a chance.

this week, fargo got a bit of a scare when the owner of downtown coffee shop discovered a suspicious item in the alley behind her business.  seems there was an old computer tower that had been mostly gutted containing a mannequin head with wires coming out of it’s mouth sitting in the stairwell.  of course, now days, anything involving random objects that are left in public areas constitutes the evacuation of buildings and the mobilization of the bomb squad.  this particular event, was no different.

i can remember three times in the past couple of years that similar stories like this took place.  amazingly, this was probably the one that seemed the most reasonable for concern.  in the defense of the paranoid, this object had wires.  bombs have wires.  so this must have been a bomb…. or it was a piece of art made out of discarded items.  now, as for what a piece of art was doing in the alley downtown, i’ll get to that later.  the other two memorable “scares” i can think of that we’ve had in fargo involved the highly frightening scenarios of a student leaving their backpack at the bus stop on one of the college campuses and an employee of a government building downtown that left a plastic bag with chinese take out near a gas line behind the building.  thankfully, the fargo police were able to blow up all the suspicious items and make sure they weren’t dangerous. 

perhaps i am just a little to casual and care free, but is it really necessary to call the bomb squad to check on a plastic carry out bag?  why not just scope it out and throw it in the trash?  oh, i know, cause of the terrorists.  and i know it seems far-fetched that at a college full of students, students with backpacks, students that use public transportation, that someone may just accidentally leave their bag behind at the bus stop.  i mean, if i was at a college and saw a backpack on the ground at the bus stop, i’m certain my first thought would be osama bin laden.  it would never belong to a student that was preoccupied thinking about their finals or how he could defeat his housemates at world of war-craft and mistakenly walked off without it.  i mean this is post 9-11!  don’t you know we’re supposed to be afraid?

don’t get me wrong, i understand that it is better to be safe than sorry.  and in the case of this weeks scare, i suppose because of the nature of some of the materials used, and the unlikely-hood that anyone would see the object in the alley and assume it was art, that one could find it necessary to call the police.  and in their defense, the police did the right thing by playing it safe.  i just think that some common sense would save a fair amount of time and money once in awhile.

free beth
i am reminded again about the tension that exists between those that seek to protect the public and those that seek to expose the public to art.  back in the day, a friend named beth did a public art project that she hoped would bring awareness to the fact that traditional (and often harmful) gender stereotypes and roles are still prevalent.  she hung her pieces up on campus with out permission and without explaination.  one of the pieces depicted a 1950’s stylized woman along with cross hairs as though you were viewing her through the scope of a gun.  to those that knew her message, it was apparent that she wanted to convey the destruction of the stereotype, not the destruction of women.  those that did not know her message, saw a message of destruction towards women in general.  couple that with the fact that all postings on campus must be approved, beth found herself in some trouble.  

similarly, i read about the artist that created the scare this week with his art in the alley.  he said that he could have likely difused the situation in advance by alerting the business owners to what he was doing.  instead, he and other local artists found themselves being interviewed by the fbi. 

in the case of my friend beth, she could have been more effective getting her message across by working with in the system.  her pieces could have been hung up with permission of the university (yes, there may have been some censorship) but they would have been more accessable and likely to generate the kind of dialogue she was hoping for.  instead, there was little or no dialogue about gender stereotypes.  and in the case of the downtown artist, he is right that he could have prevented a lot simply by giving a few people a warning.  sometimes, being subversive causes more harm than it is worth. 

i am a big fan of subversive art.  and i understand that in many cases to be successful, it cannot wait for approval in order to be effective.  but an artist, like any other communicator, must ask themselves what they are trying to communicate and then figure out the best method by which to get their message across.  otherwise they are just another noise maker. 

i hope we have more public art experiements in fargo.  i hope they will challenge people to think and act differently.  that they will make an impact, both visually and on people’s lives.  i just hope their won’t be any further need for the bomb squad.