God and the Jelly Fish

Tonight I am fighting being angry. I stood at the edge of the little creek a few blocks up from our house with a clove cigarette burning my fingers and lungs brown. It was somehow reflective of my mood. Brownish.

I have not written, or even wanted to write for a long time now. It is kind of frustrating. I have justified it to myself by telling me that I spend my day creating, so I have less energy to do it in my off time. The truth, i think, is that I spent two hours tonight watching television. I hate television. I feel insulted by it, and yet there i was thinking about how much I hated television watching television. How did i get here? Creating things bring change, and I don't want to change right now.

As I stood next the stream, I got to talking to God. It started off like it usually does like 'Dear Jesus, what is going on?' and 'Oh God, help me in my hour of brown-ness', but from there it shifted. After a long wander back through the last few years in my brain, I got to telling God off. The last few years have felt like a proverbial desert time for me and God. I wander, I wait, once in a while I build a golden calf in hopes of provoking God to react... but mostly i just wait quietly. What I have discovered is this: Manna is not so good. I can kind of sympathize with Israel as they scooped up predictable bowls full of this flavourless stuff. This? Again? I don't think I can take it.

Sometimes when we christians talk about God, we imply that we are shutting God out of our lives with our actions. I understand the metaphor, and I do it constantly, but I saw another side as I stood there in the dark: How is that possible? Truly, how can we shut God out? Is God so polite that he whimpers and mews outside, hoping for a saucer of milk? Can I really hold God at bay if he wants to get ahold of me?

I really do believe that if God wanted to get ahold of me and my life, not me, nor George Bush or Bono or all the legions of this world and deepest space could stop him. And then I can't help but wonder this: well? What are You waiting for?

I am not waiting for a sign. It is not a matter of 'do i believe' anymore. I used to tell my friends who were doubting and wondering about the existence of God "Give Him a chance, give Him a dare, what have you got to lose? I believe he will show you what you need". And I really did. All my life God has dealt with me gently and faithfully, growing me carefully. I felt welcomed and nurtured by God. I felt like I learned some big lessons, made some bad (and good) decisions, became more dependent on him and then...

*cricket sounds*

Nada. Nix. Nil.

I think I have been patient. I think I can continue to be patient, but more and more I feel this thing creeping up in me, this thing that i've never really felt before like a set jaw or balled fist. It makes me want to lash out at God and say "what the fuck" and really mean it. It makes me want to do rash things to provoke God to react so at least I can hear what he has to say. It makes me want to light my spiritual house on fire, pull the plug on my boat of faith and count down to when God comes barging through the smoke and shouts "get out you asshole, get out!". I want him punch me in the gut, or light a fire in my heart or under my ass or I don't care... but something.

Instead I try to do some right things. Good things. Lead worship at church. Pray with my kids. Talk about, and even get excited about God at bible study. I see them as opportunities for God to push the door open. I can't hear the knocking, but I assume He's out there on the step and I am disarming the alarm, throwing the latch, and putting the dog in the back-yard. He knows I can't reach the doorknob, so why does he wait still? Did I hand-cuff him to the handrail? What are hand-cuffs to God? Why would he give me that power? Bad move Big Guy, I'll abuse it every time.

As I turn in the darkness and hear my light footsteps echo off the fence, I start to think about the almost-fight i got into with Anie tonight. Sometimes she gets in these moods where she talks, and I listen, and I can't hardly keep up with the move from topic to topic, and then I think she resents that I'm not responding, and she tries to needle me into some kind of reaction. It's like she's saying "Stand up for yourself, jellyfish-man", but when I say something I feel it is the wrong thing, or not what she expected, so she prods a little more "Why did you say that?" or "Why do you always say 'yeah...but' when you respond to me?". After a while I feel like a mouse in a corner and the cat is closing in. I want to fight, but see no good in it other than to fulfill Anie's belief that I should return her verbal sparring with retorts of my own. Don't want it. I don't mind a knock-down drag-out fight once in a while, but I hate feeling like a mouse in a corner being played with by a cat.

Ironically, this is exactly how I am approaching God lately. Stand up for yourself, Jellyfish-God. Give it to me, I'll give you one free shot. Now I wonder how he feels to God to be in that position, if I want to slither out under the door to get away from a feisty wife. Intellectually I understand that I can't goad God, or put him in a box by assuming he'll react in a given manner to my prods. Emotionally, I think I will continue to berate him about the ears.

If i'm honest with myself, which I cannot always claim to be, all I really want is for God to tell me he loves me. I want his approval and support. I want him to stop side-stepping my questions and look me in the eyes, or at least, look where my eyes would be if I weren't staring at my shoes in shame all the time.

I also suppose, as an aside, that these are the same things Anie is looking for from Jellyfish-man. And the same thing's I'm looking for from her: Love and Response. The cat and the mouse, tangled in this complex dance, the man and the God toe to toe with no pattern drawn on the floor. How will it play out?

I am not really sure who this letter is for, in the end. I suppose it's 50% for me, 24% for God, 22% for Anie and 4% for a couple of important people in my life, just to continue trying to be vulnerable and open for opportunities. Please pray, although I still feel in the end it will be up to God, or to me, to unlock the hand-cuffs for a while.

Sincerely,

Jellyfish-man