I use to be a nice person. I think I was anyway. Maybe not. Anyway, I am pretty sure I have changed, and not for the better, since my dad died. I can go from teary-eyed to raging lunatic in under sixty seconds. God, help those who have contact with me in the days to come and please heal those who have been so unfortunate as to have crossed my path in the last few weeks. I need some serious penance to happen.
A week ago, I received an amazing posting on my Facebook page. It was about fifty ways to love your neighbor. It came from XXXChurch, which has an awesome ministry to the porn community. For those of you who are still reading after that bit of information, let me explain. This church doesn’t judge people, they love them right where they are. What a concept! I know it is radical and crazy and probably a bit dangerous but I like it. I am ready for real. Real people, real life, real experiences with a real God. Is that asking too much?
So, here is the deal. I don’t want to write about dead people forever. I can’t promise that I will never write about dead people again because I probably will now and then but I am ready to move on to breathing people. It’s still about butts and ashes, loving people from end to end. Just breathing ones, for now anyway.
I am going to go through all fifty ways to love your neighbor, one a week for the next year, with two freebies obviously. My plan is to actually DO each thing suggested. It won’t be easy, I am scared and I may fail miserably. But what if I don’t? What if I actually make it through this ridiculously crazy list of fifty freeing, bizarre ideas? Will it change me? I can only hope!
Why do I really want to do this? I have asked myself that, repeatedly. Here is all I can come up with:
~ I need to make a difference in this world and it has to be with something that matters in the long run.
~ I want to leave my children something of value when I die. Since there won’t be any money, I figure acts of integrity in Jesus' name might work for something.
~ Crazy seems to make sense to me. Are you surprised?
Last night, at the concert, there was a little gal drawing henna designs on people. She gives the money she makes to the poor of this world. I sat and watched her and thought, “Why not?”
This is Chinese for courage. That's what I was told anyway.
I hope it doesn't actually mean crazy and yet I wouldn't be completely shocked.
If any of this interests you, check back on Monday. That's when I will be attempting the first way to love my neighbor. One order of crazy, coming right up ...