An Indefinite Adventure

Ernest Hemingway said to write drunk and edit sober. The purpose of this, I assume, was to unlock the blunt, the hidden thoughts in a person that are otherwise covered by soberness, politeness, or political correctness. The world loved Hemingway, and I can only help but think that his truthfulness and brute honesty assisted him in making him one of the most renowned authors in the 21st century. They say what makes a writer are not only his thoughts, but his ability to explain them to others through language. Popular writers, I have noticed, have an uncanny ability to explain the truth in layman's terms, to define the world in a comical, brutally honest straight shot to the point.

I’d really like to be that kind of writer. But let’s be honest, writer’s block is a nasty thing, and I can understand why Hemingway resorted to drink in order to overcome such a frustrating obstacle. I sit here in my hostel, and it is very late. All have gone to bed, and I am left here alone to wrestle with my thoughts. There are many of them. I might have a drink, honestly, if I could, but I am still underage here in Hawaii, and I am a snob.

So let me start simple: I have gone on an adventure.

You may wonder why. Good question. It’s good for people, at least once in their lives, to do something rash and a little bit risky.  Something unexpected where you leave your comfort zone altogether and camp out somewhere between foolhardy and irrational. I am afraid that I am in a perpetual state of hunger for adventure and I might even talk a lot about how much I love to live in awe, but I have a severe character flaw in that I talk big and never act on it. Well my friends, I have finally put my money (future, comfort, etc.) where my mouth is. It’s been a long time coming, let me tell you.

It is becoming painfully aware to me of how much the world is crying out for the truth of Jesus Christ. Yet so often I offer Him a cold kind of affection! I profess to love Him and then keep Him at arm’s length, scared that He will invade my Heart of hearts and I will be forced to change, pushed out of my sickening comfort I so laughingly call my “bubble.” For as much as I profess otherwise, I love my routine, soaking in it like a bathtub after a long day at work. But the bathwater soon becomes cold and nasty and stagnant. And still I stay there.

So I guess this trip is me getting out of the dirty bathwater and really living. Emma and I are currently in Honolulu, Hawaii. We are taking a weeklong sabbatical before heading down to the Land of Oz for a while. By a while I mean 3 months to a year to we may never come back home (Mom or Elle, if you read this, please don’t panic). We will pick some fruit, drive a few combines, take a few road trips, climb a mountain or two, and meet a varied smattering of people. I am excited to meet strange people and stretch my idea of love. I am excited to learn to abide more and more in the love of the Father so that I can give it back to the people I meet. I am excited to take each and every day at a time, savor each moment and tackle each curveball with passion and patience. I want to show people the Lord loves them by the way I live. I will be humbled and knocked over and will be challenged. I’m not saying that it will be easy, but it will be beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not afraid, I’m saying I’m afraid and I’m charging full speed ahead anyway.

I see the darkness all around me, the world in all its glory and despair. The many falsehoods of the world are slowly made apparent. I used to think that I was alone in my struggle for purpose and passion, but now I see great men and women that I have put on a pedestal stumble and I wonder if they are just as confused as I am after all. I realize just how easily persuaded I am by smooth words, and, even more importantly, how easily I am lured off the narrow way. I realize that the greatest tragedy is not only that there is darkness and many lies, but more often than not that those things are cloaked in a robe of light.

All this begs the question: Doesn't truth need to be more than something we just philosophize about? Doesn't it need to be something that we seek until we find? For if we cease to seek it, we fall prey to the confusion that reigns king in its absence. In my despair over the loss of naiveté and blissful ignorance, I cry out, “God, what shall I do?” And He replies, “Abide in my Love.”

I hurt for the world. I hurt for the addicts that spend all their money on something they hate. I hurt for the children that starve because adults can't get along. I hurt for the prostitutes who sell their bodies to feed their children. I hurt for the broken. But I cling to Him, my King. I stand on the promises of His grace and mercy.  I need His Presence more than life and I seek His face more than all the treasures of this world. In the dread of fear and desperation, He remains my sure foundation and steadfast Lover. He is my dearest friend.

And oh, how He loves the world…

And that, my friends, is just the ramblings of a beach bum.

All my love,

B