Welcome

You know, sometimes life is just fucking inconvenient. Life is not making things easy, you know? I just want to be able to be a different version of me this week, a me that handles busy-ness and obstacles and stress and deadlines with a bit more cool and at ease.

I'm not being that Me.

That me would have not needed to be told to just write right this minute.

This me was told.  This me read this article and wanted to write about it and whined that I couldn't and then That Friend told me to do it anyway.

So I here I am.

And I'll say this quickly because I can't do more than that this minute: writing like hers makes me weep. Weep with gratitude mostly.  Gratitude that someone thinks of something and can write in a way that I can read. In a way that lets me hear what is being Said by The Sayer of All Good News: I am welcomed. Even this version of me is welcomed.

Imagine that.

I think about the why's of this faith of mine a lot.  A good friend is devout in her atheism and our conversations are so good and thought-provoking but they poke in the places where I feel silly for deciding this story is the one I'll hang my hat on. The whole thing is so ludicrous and foolish.  Who believes this shit??

I do.

I believe it and it makes my heart better because holy shit! Our God is a God who loves the mess. There is room for me. Room for this version of me.  And then that lets me make room for you.  For the messy version of you that actually kind of pisses me off if we sit too close together.  There is room for that you and even the me that is judgey and awful.

And so I cry because even though I haven't read much of the Bible lately, and my prayers are of the distracted thoughts aimed at Heaven variety, and I don't go to church and I am not at all disciplined or anything resembling Trying... I cry because despite all that, I still find my heart wanting to sink into the welcome, I still get all hungry for it.

And that hunger, that is my faith really.  That I still want to live there, that's where I rest.