Groundhog Day

When I woke up this morning, I realized that I hadn't really slept at all. As I opened my eyes I truly believed that I had just closed my eyes minutes earlier...but seconds later my alarm told a different story. A wonderful night of no rest.

Fast forward--one week later.

When I woke up this morning, I realized that I hadn't really slept at all. As I opened my eyes I truly believed that I had just closed my eyes minutes earlier...but seconds later my alarm told a different story. A wonderful night of no rest.

That's how it's been recently. I am convinced that I am living my life as Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Destined to repeat the same day until I get it right, but I don't know what to do differently.

This tiresome repetition makes me weary, but typically I can depend on my faith to carry me through. On those long and weary nights I often read and spend some time in thought and prayer. Recently, however, the repetition has carried over to my faith as well. Perhaps I shouldn't say my faith...a better way of stating it, my church.

I have been in the Christian church my whole life. Grew up in youth group, went to all of the camps and retreats, spent two years at bible college, worked in the ministry. While the people and locations have changed, one thing has remained constant--the church has failed me. The "Church" is my other Groundhog Day.

Details aren't important. Many of us have been there. "Shipwrecked, heartbroken, broken in the wheels of living" as Brennan Manning puts it. We cry out to the Church for help and find the door slammed in our faces, so we walk away and vow never to return. Eventually we long for the fellowship again so we return only to have a repeat performance. Over and over the cycle repeats. Groundhog Day.

I know it sometimes feels hopeless and when I awoke this morning it certainly did. I'm not sure I've given up on it for good...I hope not. There comes a time when you have spent your life in the Church and you realize how many times you have said "ENOUGH!" I think that's where I am now...Groundhog Day is getting old.

It's sad when you reach the point that you feel like Murray's character in the movie and you say to yourself:
Something is...different.
Good or bad?
Anything different is good.
That's where I am with the Church...ready for something different. I thought I had found it when I helped start a new church. Oddly enough, new isn't always different. Groundhog Day all over again.

So, now I go to shut my eyes. Sure am tired tonight. I guess that's what a week of no real rest will do for you. Sure am....ahhh, yawn yawn yawn...tired....tonight...just .......need....sleep.....

When I woke up this morning, I realized that I hadn't really slept at all. As I opened my eyes I truly believed that I had just closed my eyes minutes earlier...but seconds later my alarm told a different story. A wonderful night of no rest.

Shake Hands With the Devil...

In the words of General Romeo Dallaire, the former leader of the United Nations mission to Rwanda: "After one of my many presentations following my return from Rwanda, a Canadian Forces padre asked me how, after all I had seen and experienced, I could still believe in God. I answered that I know there is a God because in Rwanda I shook hands with the devil. I have seen him, I have smelled him and I have touched him. I know the devil exists, and therefore I know there is a God."

I have tried to write this first blog for months, and simply have not been able to find the words. For those of you who know me, you will likely understand why the quote above means so much to me. The fact is, I have had to shake hands with the devil in my life, and he simply does not want to let go.

Going forward I hope to share some of my past and my struggles with you as a means of healing for myself, but also as a way of using my pain for good. I simply cannot accept allowing the hurt of my life to serve no good purpose...if I must go through it, then I will use it to serve some greater good.

Suffice it to say that I have shaken hands with the devil, and because of that I know that God exists. I wish I could share more now, but I simply have to get through this first writing in order to reach a place where I can share more. The basic fact is that after all I have seen and experienced, I still believe in God.

General Dallaire, you are a hero of mine. While I will likely never have the honor of meeting you, I want you to know that you have inspired me to share my story just as you shared yours. When we shake hands with the devil, it only makes the comforting palm of God's hand that much more amazing.

I have seen him, smelled him and touched him. It has only made the loving arms of my Father that much more real. The tears I cry are not because I fear the devil, but because I am humbled by the God who strengthens me to confront that devil face to face.