Watermelons

Sydney is the smallest big city I've ever experienced, you often see people you know in the most unlikely of places. Why, just today I saw Sam. He was in the train station, walking the opposite direction. I hadn't seen him in three months, not since I abruptly quit my job at the chicken shop and started working at Fratelli.

We stopped and exchanged pleasantries, as the kind people of Sydney are in the habit of doing. He walked with me into Woolworths and we chatted while I selected the best avocado from the lot. I saw the watermelons and commented that they were delicious. So he bought me one. A watermelon. And I carried it home with me on the bus like a baby.

I often fall asleep on the bus. It's an awful, intermittent  sleep, interrupted by frantic panic whenever the bus comes to a lurching halt, jerking me awake in fear to check my surroundings to ensure that I have not, indeed, missed my stop. I can't seem to help sleeping, especially when the temperature is so perfectly temperate and the rumble of the engine simmers along... Never mind that my cranium is being banged against the glass window at a speed fast enough to make my eyeballs rattle... Sleeping has always been one of my skills, even if it be lesser known.

Being on a bus really doesn't bother me, though from what I've seen, it should bother any normal person. The bus driver is usually so unobservant that someone could be stabbing a small goat in the backseat and he wouldn't even flinch. Forget trains, if a scientist wanted to look at society through it's respective petri dish, he would look at the concentration of humanity that resides on a bus. If society were a pond, buses are where the little slimy floaties on top of the water hang out. People kiss passionately and grossly, cry, talk extremely loudly on and to all types of technological devices, hold staring contests with their reflection in the window, and try to pretend they're far away from people by listening to music. One time I was overcome by hysterical fits of laughter in a crowded bus, and while people started to look at me weird, I don't think anyone could hear me over their own music.

But back to watermelons... despite their enormity of inconvenience on public transport, is there anything more refreshing to eat? I don't mean the water content of the melon, I'm talking the drooling, slavering, "I-think-the-melon-ate-my-face," "Am-I-five-years-old?" kind of a feeling. I chopped the first quarter into nice, bite sized pieces, like a responsible adult. Then I was still impatiently hungry, so I upgraded to just the melon and a spoon, you know, to speed things up a bit. That didn't hold my attention for very long. and I soon lost my propriety entirely and ate the entire quarter of the melon using only my hands and face. I ended up covered in watermelon juice, sticky but so... happy.

There is a point to this story... albeit on a little trail for jackrabbits.

I'm not saying one should be an absolute slovenly slob, however, I started to think just how much stuff that we do for other people to like us, or at least maintain a respectable version of us in their heads. It's actually crazy. Beloved, we just need to let loose sometimes. It's an orphan mentality driven by fear that dictates what you do because of people's possible negative reactions (or even positive). I take myself way too seriously. The church does. It's because we think our value lies in the gifts we carry or the things we've accomplished or our intellect that we just can't be ourselves sometimes, because that would be too... well, it wouldn't be important enough. We have to be grandiose and spiritual and proper.

Tell you what... Go eat a watermelon with your face. Go sing a song that sounds less-than worship leader quality. Laugh hysterically on a bus because something was funny. Leave your phone at home and go run around in the woods for a day. We have to be comfortable being us, and being alone being us, and living life outside of rigid rules and expectations. We are children, after all, children of the Kingdom. Let go any expectations that you think God has of you (which are law-based) or that you have of yourself and just... live with Him. Like His kid.

This blog post might leave some people scratching their heads and saying, "Well, that didn't make any sense." I don't really care. I wrote it as a reminder for me...and to remind everyone how delicious watermelons are.

All my love,

B

S P A C E

I walk into the driveway, the gravel crunching softly under my shoes. It's a cold night, the cold bites at the edges of my thick flannel jacket and nibbles at my feet. The stars are up above, though the fog has started to roll in thick. The silence is so dense I can almost see it, it's weight hanging over the ground lovingly.

I walk toward the house. The light that streamed from the old windows isn't bright, but mellow, golden, steady. I think that if it were to have a taste, it would be delicious light.

The silhouette of a window outlines a woman over a stove, cooking stew. I can taste the mushrooms and the venison and the broth, Little curls of steam twirl up, and as the woman smiles in joy, I recognize her: Mother.

This is my house. I'm in a dream, a long lost memory of what was once.

I run over to the next window, where I see what I know in my heart I would find: Father, playing his old Ibanez by the roaring fire, singing in that rough, wild voice of his:

All I am is music,
I've been that way from the start.
Just a whisper on the wind,
an easy twilight song.
Just a wandering spirit
and an open, open heart.
Sing with me,
All I ever wanted
was for you to sing with me
Throw away your fears and realize
That when you sing the mountains move,
the stones break down and cry
and the stars shine brighter in the sky.

"Daddy!"

I remember the first time the Holy Spirit came to Me, when He showed me His love in such a beautiful, tangible way. It was about one year ago now, and I was walking down my beloved railroad tracks. I was overcome by love from such a King, but the main feeling I remember even now was the feeling of...

S P A C E.

I could think with my own thoughts and feel with my own emotion, something I had always wanted but was afraid of being manipulated. My walls were finally down after years of being taught to put them up, and I could see for miles, stretch my soul again, and just sit back and... rest.

It's become one of the things I look for to know He's near. All the problems weighing on my mind suddenly don't seem very important anymore, in fact, not important at all. I loved and still love that place with Him... no obligation, just passion. No agenda, just love. No time, just this moment that is the most important moment of all... the moment of Now. That simple call of "Daddy!" And the sweet response, always faithful and always true.

In those moments of space I realize that nothing I could ever be or learn or accomplish could ever compare with finding Him, with spending my entire existence pouring out on the dusty earth, just to know Him more. Not all of my life is spent in these moments, there is always something pulling my attention away from Him, away from those moments, away from that place that changes my very mind to be more like Him...

...But I contend for the moments that I can see past my walls. I pray, I weep, I fight tooth and nail against everything that stands against me being closer. I give up seemingly harmless things that others enjoy without fault. I draw away to be alone for no logical reason. I lift up the things in my heart to Him even when my mind is clouded and there are fears and doubts running wild, knowing that as I give them up, He takes them away and I can see Him clearer. And I know that little by little, our space together will grow and we will be endless together.

I love the space I have with Him. It's my secret place. I will spend time there, make my home there. I will build a roaring fire and make bread, start to craft melodies and sing the words that He teaches me. I will plant a garden and grow flowers. I will run as fast as I want and dance like I am a child and dare to do the very thing that terrifies me. And best of all, I will love Him. And He will love me too.

May you feel space in your soul today.

All my love,

B