A cynical Friday night

It's almost nine on a Friday night. My husband, Brian, is out playing soccer and I'm watching the Red Sox game. Not a very exciting evening, especially to be a Friday.

I am feeling very...hmmm...self-examining tonight so bare with me. I realize that my posts are quite long, and that you may get bored before I finish. However, I write to clear my head. I just let you read it in case you can help.

I am what one might call a confused Christian. I'm not confused about being a Christian. I'm confused about certain things that go along with that. Church, denominations, theology, and Christians in general.

I was talking to my friend Cyndi the other night about some of our friends that are "super spiritual". We talked about the way so many Christians look down there noses at those of us that have imperfections. So many Christians seem untouchable. Whether intentional or not, they are intimidating. I wonder if the disciples thought that Christ was intimidating. I can picture Jesus walking into a room, sitting down next to Peter and, dripping with sarcasm, saying, "So, Peter, how's the sin coming along today?" I know that Jesus became human and walked among us like a regular human, hiding his red tights and superhero cape under his other garments. I just can't imagine that Jesus was like so many Christians that I know, smugly smiling and shaking hands during the meet-and-greet time during the offering, then returning to his seat, leaning over to John and saying, "Can you believe what Mary is wearing? I can almost see her ankles in that."

I was one of those Christians for a long time. I thought I had to be a certain way because I sang in the choir and led worship. My flaws were hidden under my hypocrisy. I pointed fingers, thinking that my sin was a secret. I shunned my own sister because she wasn't quite "holy" enough. I sacrificed friendships because of my reputation. What it boiled down to was that I was weak in my faith. I didn't trust myself to be a tangible example so I attempted to be the holy untouchable. I hate the way that I was then. Those people that really knew me, knew that I was broken internally and spiritually childish.

There are those that would look at my life now and think that I am not "holy". Do I go to church every Sunday? No-but I don't lie about it anymore. Do I sin? Everyday in some way or another. Do I pray and read my Bible? Not like I need to but always when things are rough. Do I claim to be a Christian even though the truth is that I have failed God more miserable than most? Absolutely.

I am a big fan of grace and mercy. I don't understand it at all, but I'm a big fan. I don't mistakenly assume that I can do whatever I choose and God has to forgive me because, hey, I'm a Christian. I know that he will if I ask but I sure as hell don't know why. The only thing that I can compare it to is my relationship with Brian. There have been times when I have been so angry with him that I didn't even want to see his face. He's made me cry harder than "Dead Man Walking". There was never a time that I didn't want to work it out, that I didn't want to be married to him anymore. I want to fix it and move on. I know it's going to happen again and again and again (you always hurt the ones you love) and I'm okay with that because I know that we will have mercy on each other. As much as this gives me an example, I know that what God does is so much more difficult.

I've never turned my back on Brian or intentionally done something that I know he hates (except that one time...). I have never openly defied him. I love him. And I love God but I do those things constantly inside of my miniscule humanity. Being human and loving God is tricky to me. What he is and what I am don't even touch edges. But somehow, what he is and what I am still wrap perfectly around each other.