Hey brother, we're all learning to love again.

your poker face ain't fooling nobody, nobody here

we've all felt the flame and she'd those same tears

driving home to a one man hell, still counting years, still counting years
hey brother we're all learning to love again
'cause that was the real you running through the fields of gold wide open
standing in places no picture contains
that was the real you, windows down, we could smell the mint fields crying
sing with the radio to a song we can't name
that was the real you saying, "maybe I'm not too young to be a cowboy."
hey brother, we're all learning to love again

hey brother, we're all learning to love again

making up your bed that day on a foreign floor between foreign walls
thinking 'bout the words you'd say to a phone that never calls
feel the weight of your father's ring and all those dreams, and all those
dreams
singing, hey brother, we're all learning to love again
'cause that was the real you running through the fields of gold wide open
standing in places no picture contains
that was the real you, windows down, we could smell the mint fields crying
sing with the radio to song we can't name
that was the real you saying, "maybe I'm not to young too be a cowboy."
hey brother, we're all learning to love again

I know you like i know my reflection
walking on the water 'cross an ocean of desire
everyone I know is looking for protection
trying to pull down your hometown 'cross a telephone wire
'cause that was the real you standing there in the shape of your body
fear don't know no love when we're all the same
that was the real you looking back across the water
tears falling like rain drops, rippling against the shame
that was the real you singing hallelujah, looking down a barrel
hey brother, we're all learning to love again
hey brother, we're all learning to love again

-MK

We're all learning to love again. I love that. I know I'm learning to love again, but it's not just me. We've all felt the flame and shed those same tears. All of us.

Today I read out of a devotional book that a sweet person gave me for my birthday. The first line read, "Focus your entire being on my living presence." I also read a little more more of Mark today. It was talking about how no one knows when the last day will be. The angels don't know, the Son doesn't know, the Father is the only one that knows. It talked about staying alert and being on your guard for that day.

Focusing all of me on Him sounds like a lot. If I'm honest, it sounds impossible. Being alert, being on my guard all of the time sounds about as possible to me as focusing all of my being on God's living presence. It sounds good. It sounds like something I'd like to do, but it sounds huge and unattainable.

I started thinking about the people in my life. I was thinking about the people that God has given me, my community, my world. In a lot of ways the people that I do life with are my world. They make up my days. They fill my time. The speak to me, build me up, tear me down, give to me and take from me. I started thinking about ways that I might focus on Jesus in those relationships.

That might be easy to do when we all love each other the way that we should, the way that we were made to. If we all perfectly reflected God's love to one another, it might be easy to focus on him all of the time. God placed us in relationship with one another and I know that is the way it is supposed to be, because I trust that he knows best, but I feel set up sometimes. I feel set up to be let down. There is potential for greatness in those relationships, but that potential seems overshadowed by our inevitable failure to love perfectly. We are bound to hurt one another. We are bound to fail to do the things we ought to do. What am I supposed to do with that?

I made a list of people in my life and the ways that they hurt me; it was easy to do.

I feel... failed, neglected, lied to, belittled, ignored, unimportant, distant, overlooked, misunderstood, pigeonholed. The list goes on. I feel all of those things, but more than that I realize that I have made others feel that way. I have been distant. I have been cold. I have been inconsistent. I have lied. I have been immature. I have been discouraging. We've all hurt someone. We've all done these things. We all do these things every day. We're all learning to love again.

It seems like a distraction. The ways in which I am let down and the ways that I let others down feels like a distraction. How can I be pointed in the right direction in those things? That is not a picture of how Christ loves me. That is not a reflection of this perfect love. Don't get me wrong, I have great friends. I have great people in my life that do love me well. I just mean that no one is perfect. No one can love perfectly, and I have felt tension there. If no one can love perfectly, then how am I supposed to be alert, and how am I supposed to focus all of me on all of him?

The more I've thought about it, the more I've realized that those times are beautiful opportunities. Opportunities that I so seldom choose to take. In A's failure, Jesus succeeds. In B's neglect, Jesus tends to my every want and need. In C's lies, Jesus is truth. In D's distance, Jesus is always with me. In E's inconsistencies, Jesus is constantly pursuing me. In each and every worldly letdown, my savior fills me. He steps in where my world steps out. He completes the things that those I love cannot. He cares for me. He loves me so well. So well. He wants what is best for me, and I trust that. I believe that. I will hold on to that. I will find rest in that. I will find freedom and joy there. That's where it's at, yo.

No one has is all down. We're all learning to love again. If we're living and we're honest, we're all experiencing pain and we're all causing pain. I wouldn't ask for that to change, because those are the times that we learn, that we grow. I would just ask for the capability to not let those opportunities slide by. I want to take advantage of opportunities to see my father's greatness, his perfect love, his perfect pursuit of me. I never want to overlook that. I never want that to become trite.

"... but the end is still to come."

Mark 13:5-8

Jesus said to them: "Watch out that no one deceives you. Many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and will deceive many. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains.

The end is still to come. I want to live each day as if I actually believed that. I want to live each day with the hope of an end far greater than anything I could imagine. When things hurt, when I am angry, when I am frustrated or upset, I want to be pointed back to this truth: the end is still to come.

It's hard to live with that perspective. I can't even imagine a beautiful end to such a messy story, my story. I see things in me that I don't like. I hate the things about myself that hold me back from loving well, that keep me from being honest, that push me into fear, that take away my joy, my hope. These things seem big. They seem overwhelming in the sense that I can't understand them fully and also in the sense that I can't fix them. I can't make them better. I look at the things within me that hold me back, and I want to give up. I want to call it quits, because there is no way I am going to figure out how to handle those things, and even if I did, there's no way I could manage the pain that would be necessary to do that.

That sucks. I really hate that. I really hate that a lot. That feeling of hopelessness. That feeling of weight pushing down on me. That feeling is there. It's there and more than anything I want to deal with it. I don't want it to go away without me learning from it. I want to be better because of it. I don't want it to go to waste. And I don't think it will.

I don't think that a single tear goes unused. I think that our God is bigger than that. I think that he knows what's best for me. I have hope in that. Even in the midst of pain, there is hope that our hurt can make us more like Jesus. When things don't play out in my timeline, when I seem to be failing over and over again to do what I so desperately need to do, when that last little sliver of hope seems to be fading away, I want to remember that the end is still to come. God, I want to remember that on my darkest days, because that makes me want to be brave. That makes me want to trust in eternal things, and not just what I can see now. That makes me want to smile. That is where my joy is found. That is where peace is. That is where the strength to do good, to do right has to come from.

I get the image from the Passion of the Christ when Jesus' foot comes down on the serpent's head. I want to hold on to that image, always.

The end is still to come. I know that. I know it, and I really do believe it. I really do. I want to believe it with the choices that I make everyday. I have so much to hope in, so much to look forward to, so much to be thankful for. The end is still to come and the end is just the beginning. How cool is it that I get to know that? How comforting is it that I get to be a part of that end? I am thankful for that comfort. I am thankful for the confidence that I can find in that truth.