Friday, October 17, 2008


I will probably turn comments off on this post because I'm in a pretty hollow mood and it will likely be one of those where somebody will feel the need to tell me that a pastor shouldn't talk like this or shouldn't feel this way, and then I'll do something like use the f-word again, and all hell will break loose, and I always hate it when stuff like that happens. This IS a personal weblog, and this will be a very personal spew of sentiments. And I hate it when people try to tell me how they think I should or should not feel. So... you enter at your own risk.

I don't know what happens. I so look forward to Thursdays because that is the end of the week for me. Friday is my one day off, and I usually have a little lighter skip to my step on Thursday mornings because I know Friday is coming. But then for some odd reason, as the day wears on, it goes away. And I don't know why, then, on so many Fridays I actually end up depressed.

But this morning I was meandering through blogland and a friend of mine had a link to this post, and one sentence jumped right off the screen into my lap:
If we have no one we really trust, no one we can talk through our failures with then we are truly alone. It doesn’t matter what level of commitment we have to a group or organization.

Ouch. I think we have something here. Story of my life. And what possibly makes it hurt even more is it appears the author is implying church leaders (pastors/preachers) are most responsible for making people feel this way. And maybe we are. Maybe *I* am. But when I read it, it seemed to me that I know soooo many pastors who feel this way. Although I would probably feel this way whether I were a pastor or not. In fact, I know I would, because I have. So that bummed me out even more. I have longed for a community like this person is talking about for as long as I can remember. I long for it now. But it just seems like no one else does. Or no one wants it with ME anyway. Or maybe it's just plain impossible. And I think maybe it is. Could it be that this is more what heaven will be like; and it's what we're supposed to be working at here-and-now, but too many of us can't deal with the less-than-ideal. So we quit trying. And scars turn to callouses turn to nothing and no one feels...

How does it feel to be stuck inside of Mobile...

I dunno.

Then, I don't even remember how I found my way to this post by Tim Stevens about stuff Andy Stanley was thinking about. I believe these are right-on-the-mark, and I think it's a good list, but these two quotes made my ears ring:
The best idea for reaching the next generation isn't going to come from the existing generation, it's going to come from the next generation. If you are over 45 years old, you aren't going to have any good ideas. It's your job to recognize the good ideas.

When your memories exceed your dreams, the end is near. You look back with smiles and lots to celebrate, but you don't have a lot to work forward to.

Yeah... I'll be turning 46 in a few weeks. And I don't know that the top quote is necessarily true... but I believe it nonetheless. I used to listen to Dream Weaver all the time. Haven't heard it in years.

So here I sit... in my blue bathrobe. Innaresting, isn't it? I walked around various places in Fort Wayne last night asking, "Isn't anybody else lonely?" and not a soul heard me think it.

But the problem isn't them... it's me.

That's one thing I don't think a lot of people realize when people like me get how I so often am. You know, when I get bummed out, I don't want anyone to do something FOR me. In fact, that's about the last thing I want. That just makes it worse. Like, if you're depressed about having a birthday, and then everybody makes a big deal about it being your birthday. It's kinda just rubbing your face in it. It's completely disregarding your feelings. It's a lack of respect. Just because someone is different doesn't mean there's something wrong with them. It might. But it doesn't have to. And the thing is... for me anyway... when I get depressed (if that's even what it is)... I don't want someone else to DO something... *I* want to change. There's nothing anyone else can do to make that happen. But there's a lot that other people can do to make it worse.

Yeah... I'm a difficult person. I know it. Impossible, even. A lot of people - even therapist type people - say we need to "name the problem" or "name the pain." We need to "go there;" and "deal with it." You know... what if "it" is not a "problem" or a "pain"? Sometimes I think the thing to do is to NOT give it a name. Again, I'm not suggesting this as depression therapy or anything. I don't know what it's like for anyone else. And I don't even know if this is depression in me. It's just deep down thoughts that stream through from time to time. It's character. So I think sometimes - for me - I just need to accept it; surrender it; lay it at the foot of the cross (you know, that public square where Jesus bleeds and people scowl), and let his blood wash over it and cover it up. Less of me, and more of him. Forget about naming MY pain. What about HIS name?

Who I am
makes no difference.
I am a thought or a mist
and there's no point fighting

But surrender is not
They are two different worlds
two different games.
And only one
has a Name.