i am eager to do some writing, Father. i am eager to accept the destitute into my home, provide meals and handshakes, good company. i am eager to present the best news to all new and old friends -- to offer them life so abundant and real and painful and slippery sore like the most achy of headaches, the most fulfilling life like an excellent meal that never ends and only leads to an infinite main course to be eaten within the heavenly realms with you, my Father. i am eager to work hard, and eat heartily. i am eager to accept headaches so thankfully.

i am eager, Father, to manage my finances, my resources, as a steward who has been given them (not a manager who has taken them on his own, which i do). i am eager, as odd as it is, to explore this wonderful, beautiful life as a child -- and seriously -- and do so every day. i am eager to toss my adulthood aside, whatever that may mean, simply to explore. and as this: i am eager to learn more. i am eager to learn more, and also eager to dance silly child dances when no one, or everyone, watches.

i am eager, Father, to object to injustice. i am eager to act on such objection, and act effectively and as a grace-filled Christian. but i am also eager to make the worst mistakes. i am eager to grow from failures, which is how i often best grow. what was it i wrote that evening? what were those words given me that night, Father? the ones i scribbled in sharpie on my apartment wall, as i did all words you gave me (all poetry and prayer and prose until my apartment walls crammed with that which You'd spoken)?

"success moves us ahead, but failure propels us forward."

those are the words i am thinking of. yes, i am eager for that: make me a good steward of failure, as odd as it is.

and besides: i am eager to fail, Father. i am eager to fail, and fail again, and fail better. in my weakness, you are made strong. in my failure, there is the betterment of my family, or my co-workers, or my friends, or the daily strangers who live and work downtown. in my weakness, there is the betterment of myself, too.

i am eager to misplace things, Father. i am eager to slam on the breaks because i wasn't paying attention. i am eager to wreak havoc on this fragile heart, eager to demolish the sturdiest heart walls that block up my spirit -- eager to cause everything to tumble down, all crashing like bricks or symbols or glass, all dusting thick the sky like a gray smokey film.

and i am eagerly awaiting this film to dissipate, to clear away to sky. i am eagerly awaiting the light to shine through, finally, and shine through clearly.

i am eager for you, Father, bright as light mysterious but knowable. bright as righteousness, and bright like my Christ.

 

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