Protestant Pain in the Ass

I am a Protestant and I am a pain in the ass. I have spent long hours, as of late, trying to reform my tactics and techniques in order to not cause so much "pain", but have finally determined that it is in my blood, my DNA. I ask the questions they don't want asked and I bang on the doors that they'd rather keep shut. Where does this audacity come from? Where do I get the nerve?

I admit that there is a satisfaction that comes after speaking up and a relief that comes in hope for a moment of consideration. After all, an answer to the question is a big request, but a moment to consider or reflect by all parties involved may just bring caution and a sober perspective. I know that many fear their leaders and others hold the law to such a reverence that they would never question it, but the law deserves to be protested when it is unjust and authorities will be questioned when they forget their role.

A lot has transpired as of late and these events have forced me to take a deep evaluation of who I am and what role I should be playing. My policy in working with the local church has been to live "stringless". This enables me to be silent or to speak as I feel prompted and compelled without being overly concerned with the consequences. It is important for the local church to know that this is not my ministry, this is their ministry and I am just assisting them with it. In essence, nothing can be taken from me if it is not mine to begin with. So I was hesitating. I needed to make sure that this is really the stance that I was made to take or perhaps more truly, that I wanted to take.

So, to sum it up for those who can't read more than 3 paragraphs without totally losing focus... I am reaffirming my role as a Daughter, Sister, Girlfriend, Friend, Protestant Pain in the Ass;-)

My new melody

"Complicated Melody"

If he were a color
He'd be a deep dark forest green
If he were a car
He'd be a long stretch limousine
With room for all of humanity inside
Cause he is so giving
And he is so wise
If he were a number
He'd be a five cause he has such a brilliant mind
If were an animal
He's be an ass cause he's so stubborn sometimes

But if he were a song
He'd be a complicated melody
That complicated fellow he
I almost can not sing it on key

But he means the world to me

If he were a building
He'd be a beautiful cathedral
Cause he's so traditionally spiritual
If he were a dance
He'd be complicated like the tango
Exotic like a mango

He ain't the reason for the sun and the moon
He is the reason for this here tune
Cause he means the world to me

India.Arie

The End of a Stan...(a few thousand to go)

This is Stan. Stan is stingy. Stan shows up empty handed always. Stan gave at the office. Stan volunteers for 1 hour weekly. Stan has a tight schedule. Stan needs his "me" time. Stan won't go out of his way, except to avoid a vagrant. Stan has room for 4 but drives alone. Stan never carries cash. Stan is devoted to his job. Stan is determined to have a family. Stan wants his children to go to college. Stan attends church. Stan pays his tithe. Stan shakes hands and bridges the aisle. Stan never shows up late. Stan takes vacations every year. Stan tips exactly 12 1/2 %. Stan thinks you do a great job. Stan is proud of you. Stan is your brother. Stan is your twin brother. Stan is you. Meet Stan. Stan, meet Stan. There is only enough room for one Stan here. I suggest you fight it out.

Incomplete and sweaty

Incomplete...a song by Alanis Morissette. (lyrics adapted)

One day I'll find relief. I'll be arrived and I'll be a friend to my friends who know how to be friends.
One day I'll be at peace. I'll be enlightened and I'll be married with children and maybe adopt.
One day I will be healed. I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy.

I have been running so sweaty my whole life, urgent for a finish line. And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete.

One day my mind will retreat and I'll know God and I'll be constantly one with him night, dusk, and day.
One day I'll be secure like the women I see on their thirtieth anniversaries.

I have been running so sweaty my whole life, urgent for a finish line. And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete. Ever unfolding. Ever expanding. Ever adventurous and torturous and never done.

One day I will speak freely. I'll be less afraid and measured outside of my poems and lyrics and art.
One day I will be faith-filled. I'll be trusting and spacious, authentic and grounded and home.

I have been running so sweaty my whole life, urgent for a finish line. And I have been missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete.

the severed head

This Body is scrambling for a sense of worth, identity, and purpose. Sometimes fiery, sometimes skiddish, but more often than not, clueless. This body is running, but weak. Its circulation is limited and limbs are going numb while major organs are failing. Its a sad sight. Too much for the weak stomached, this pain is loud and the stench offensive.
Where is the Head? How was it lost? Was it stolen or strategically removed? It is one of the heaviest of all the Body parts...perhaps the other parts felt it was weighing them down. No wonder there is no true order, no fresh ideas, no stability. Its no wonder. We've lost our mind and need to come to our senses...oh wait there's no way to calculate or understand them. We've lost our sight, our hearing and our voice. We have no memory, no intuition. We run cold. We run without direction. We run pale and dumb. But none the less, we run...but never to the Head. Never ever to the Head. Strange.

Goats...

Goats. Looking for toys, not wanting to commit to an occupation. Just looking for a job. Just on the hunt for a quickie...the biggest boom the least extraction. Goats.

Goats. Overlooking the loudest subtlety. Shades so cool their clouded. Fire so dim it more resembles a gas leak...the biggest boom the least extraction. Goats.

Goats. Stuffing their mouths while He goes hungry. Speeding by in their comfy cars while He asks for some change. Worshiping in their fancy buildings while He has no place to lay his head. Goats.

Goats. Good for Fire. Great for kindling. Replaceable. Expendable. Cheap cheese, even cheaper milk. Tough. Stubborn. Bleeeet. Worthless Goats.

***He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me - you failed to do it to me.' "Then those 'goats' will be herded to their eternal doom, but the 'sheep' to their eternal reward."
Matthew 25:45-46

Who am i?

Who am i to say anything at all? Who am i to have sight and an awareness at all? Who am i to say this is necessary and that is not? i don't know. i really don't know. i am just Julia. i am just a girl who wakes up in the morning, checks the time and descends out of bed. My feet ache. My head feels heavy. i drink coffee. i take my time getting ready. i pause...and pause and just think about stuff as i am reminded or provoked. i eventually make it outside. i get in my new, but dusty car and head out. i turn on talk radio and listen to the opinions of the natives. i don't get bothered by traffic unless i am late and possibly disappointing someone. i pick up my nanny kids and give them the attention they need. i straighten up their house so they can experiecnce some order and so can i. i read a bit. i stare a bit. i watch Ellen. i make dinner. i fold the laundry. i check on the homework. i exit as their dad arrives. i drive home or to small group or to church or to praise team practice or to choir practice or to somebody's birthday celebration...Who am i to think i know anything at all? i don't know.

Who am i to say He needs me? Who am i to say He loves me? Who am i to say He is here with me? i don't know.
He said it...not me. He revealed it...not me. He allowed it...not me. I stood by and watched Him unfold. This I know...I know it very well.