Still Living in the Tension

Sometimes I write things, and they look horribly trite or snobbish upon a second glance, but over the past week I really have been struck by the messy and tension-filled nature of life that I was talking about in my last entry. A few days ago, we learned that a dear uncle of mine (I think he’s technically my second cousin, once removed) has flesh-eating disease, and while they’ve caught it early, it’s going to be a hard a hard next while for him and my auntie. They love God and those around them intensely, and I’ve learned so much about self-sacrificing love and God’s desire for justice through their wise words and work with marginalized groups in Africa and Asia. Knowing that they’re going through tough times is painful; a few years ago, Uncle Doug had a scary case of hepatitis, and when he made it through that, we were so relieved and thankful, so for him to be facing another worrisome health concern seems especially messed up. A member of our extended family committed suicide this month, and when my mom flew out to the funeral, knowing how to deal with the hardship of that loss and how to comfort everyone there was difficult. Grieving the loss of a loved one is tough as it is, but when a death is complicated in this tragic way, the difficulty of life and death are all the more evident. The thought that life would be hard enough that it wasn’t worth it anymore is a hard one to swallow, but some people really do face such hardship in their lives. Life is messy.

My favourite customer of all time (ever) is a beautiful man named Brian who has schizophrenia. Although Brian is one of the most gentle and lovely people I’ve ever met in my life, people treat him with suspicion and cruelty because of the symptoms of his disorder. Last week, the police wanted Brian to be kicked out of our café because of his appearance and unusual behaviour. When we didn’t force Brian to leave, they became even more insistent that he was a disturbance; I was so troubled by the fact that the police would want to kick out someone whose life is already so smattered with derision as it is. Brian used to come for his regular mug of House Blend every day when I worked at Bear Mountain, and now he comes to Second Cup for a medium mug of blueberry tea steeped beforehand, and in the four years that I’ve been friends with Brian, he’s never been anything but kind. My day is always brightened by talks with him about physics and his experience with war and various other things that we stumble upon in conversation. But because Brian dresses differently and talks to himself, he lost his job as a janitor two years ago, and is told by the police to leave Whyte Ave because he doesn’t act normally. I find this to be terribly backwards.

I opened Firefox this morning to find that there had been a horrific shooting at Virginia Tech this morning, and it’s impossible to read about events like this without being sickened by the sadness of it all. Not only did dozens of lives come to an abrupt and untimely halt, but whoever was driven to do this can’t have had a very easy life. While it might be simpler to condemn and rebuke the shooter who ended the lives of so many, God loves him deeply. Like Dale Lang did after the shooting in Taber, we have to recognize that people don’t fit into black and white categories of good and evil. CBC showed a clip of the shooting captured from outside the building from a cell phone, and hearing the shots being fired and knowing that a life ended with each of those shots was heartrending. I cried not just because 33 people had died, but also because it was such an illustration of life’s fragility. The students were gone, just like that. Seeing that gunman had a frightening capacity to kill all those people and devastate an entire community made me think about the human ability, and tendency, to mess up all the good that God created.

I went for a walk this afternoon with Matt and took advantage of the midday sunshine and lovely cloud-smattered sky today, and despite being a pleasant spring day, there’s still a lot of mud and plant debris remaining on the ground that was previously covered up by snow. Spring muck isn’t very pretty, but I think it’s good to be reminded of the muck on a regular basis. Although it’s tempting in a week of happifying music, unitard-shopping, Anne of Green Gables, and finishing classes to glaze over life’s not-so-pleasant parts, I don’t want to dismiss the hardship that is pervasive in the world. At our last small group, we were talking about how Christians often present life as simple, especially in places like Sunday school, or when dealing with arguments that run counter to our beliefs. When we fail to acknowledge the complexity of things, we’re not seeing the whole story. If someone has been taught about life and God in a shallow way that dismisses the messiness of life, whether it be in regards to sex, politics, good and evil, or justice, they’re going to have a hard time meshing their beliefs with the complications of real life. I think this is partly why so many people struggle with their faith when they get to university; they see a more complicated world, and learn things that aren’t always acknowledged in the church, and don’t know how to fit what they see and hear with what they’d come to believe in their past. Scientific theories that were denounced in a church seem to make sense, and new Muslim, Buddhist, or atheist friends are actually pretty cool, and aren’t entirely deluded in their notions about the world. When life gets messy, people who have been taught that life is always sunshiney when you’re on God’s side can find themselves lost.

I feel blessed to know people who deal with life’s messiness with grace and joy. I had a picnic with Jen yesterday, with soda and chips and carrots (the carrots made it healthy), and we had a good talk about life. Jen has faced adversity in her life in so many ways that I can’t list them all; I feel silly complaining about various things when I think about her and how she approaches life with such trust in God and lack of selfishness. She knows deep-down that God loves her, and that one day she’ll be done with the struggles that she faces now. Her joy really is contagious, too; her laughter and capacity for silliness make me very happy. As I’ve spent time with Jen, and have grown to love her so much, I’ve learned that life’s messiness is best handled with knowledge of God’s love and a love for Him and others that makes everything else that gets complicated become less important. In a very apropos manner, I was reading a chapter in Tuesdays with Morrie the other day that I wish I’d read before so I could have included it in my entry from last week. It’s a conversation that I enjoyed imagining in my head:

“Have I told you about the tension of opposites?” he says.
The tension of opposites?
“Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted.
“A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle.”
Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.
“A wrestling match.” He laughs. “Yes, you could describe life that way.”
So which side wins, I ask?
“Which side wins?”
He smiles at me, the crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth.
“Love wins. Love always wins.”

P.S. Clearly you should read Tuesdays with Morrie. It's rather lovely.
P.P.S. My mom got me a new Message yesterday, with a padded cover, numbered verses, and a satin ribbon. It's my new favourite thing.
P.P.P.S. Caitlin is leaving on Friday for three months to work at the Smithsonian. Then she's leaving for an entire year for adventures in Japan. I'm excited for her, but also sooo sad about her imminent absence. I'll have no play buddy, no one to discuss silly Christians with, no one to argue with over iced chai, and no one to keep me up to date on race relations in the country fairs of nineteenth century Europe. Adventurous and intrepid favourite friends are irksome, but I love her bunches nonetheless.
P.P.P.P.S. Music videos by Alanis Morissette, Feist, and Patrick Watson have made me smile. Canadian musicians are clearly expert music video-makers.