Tapestry of Love (Easter - Day 25)

(Based on Colossians 1:24-2:7)

I get so wrapped up in theology, politics, and my own struggles that the simplicity of Christ's love becomes very, very complex. For example, when I look back over yesterday, for some reason my mistakes shine brighter than my successes. I twisted off at work and got angry . . . again. When I got home, I didn't do the schoolwork I was supposed to do. I procrastinated. Then, I looked at porn to top it all off. 

I woke up this morning with this overwhelming sense of failure. I wondered if I was manic - going from great emotional highs to depressing emotional lows. No matter how hard I try - and I try really hard - to do what's right and to love, it seems like I take one step forward and two steps back every time. My mind magnifies my failures as if they're the only evidence of my existence, as if they're the only gauge I can judge myself by. There's always something at war within me, whether it's anger or procrastination, or the baffling power of sexual fantasy. Days like yesterday provoke the voices in my head - the "shitty committee" - to begin counting my mistakes and reminding me of how messed up I am. Honestly, it wears me down to the point where I can't focus on anything other than . . . right now.

What is it that makes me hone in on my failures and not celebrate them? What is it that makes me put my mistakes under the magnifying glass, while leaving the successes to the side as if they don't matter?

Paul speaks of this "mystery" that's been revealed to us. The mystery, he says, is that Christ is in us, pulling us forward and preparing us to share in God's glory. He starts the passage off the talking about suffering. He's in jail at the time, so he's experiencing an immense amount of pain. He's probably starving, sleepless, and he's probably not getting fed much. However, he considers it a sheer gift to be able to experience the suffering he's part of because it enables him to help other people, and to lay out the whole truth. 

One of the things I love about Paul is that he doesn't hide his humanity from his audience. He knows he's a mess, yet it helps him even more in building a common sense argument to encourage his audience that Christ loves them just as they are. Paul, a former terrorist against the Church, is now a prevailing voice for the Church, and he embodies suffering and also hope. 

I was meeting with a pastor of a church in Texas City yesterday, and he said something that I could totally relate to. He said, "I'm pretty hard-headed, but if someone hits me with a hammer hard enough, I'll wake up." This is exactly me. Experience shows that the pain has to be big enough in order to learn my lesson and move on. I don't know if it will always be like this, but it is now. 

Paul uses a beautiful phrase to describe what it's like to be "awake" to the mystery of Christ in us. He says to be woven in a tapestry of love, and that when this happens, our minds will be confident and at rest, focused on the mystery of Christ. 

The voices in my head are not God. They are my own created personas of judgment. I give these things power time and time again, and just can't seem to keep them away. Yet, through all the judgment and self-condemnation, I can barely make out once again the still, small voice. It's barely audible. It says, "You are loved just as you are. You're perfect and whole, and I've got big plans for you. My grace is sufficient."

Today, I want to be woven into a tapestry of love. I want to spend less time judging myself, and more time being thankful for the mystery that is Christ. I want to celebrate my successes and my failures, believing with every ounce of my being that God loves me just as I am, and not as I think I should be. 

Today's Action: What does it mean to be "woven into a tapestry of love"? Throughout the day, before each conversation or action, try to ask, "What does it look like to love right now?"