Living in the Locust Years

It’s one thing about having a somewhat disorganized type B brain–sometimes it goes on crazy rabbit trails for no reason. I just got back from a trip to Cuba, and it got me thinking about God’s upside down kingdom.

When I wandered through Cuba one of the things that struck me is that the things I found striking and beautiful were sometimes neglected and not new, or shiny.

The very things that might have kept Cuba from progressing at the same pace as more resourced countries also allowed it to preserve a life minus traffic, valuing old and very beautiful cars which were long discarded in our disposable lifestyle. It allowed it to keep amazing cobblestone streets, gorgeous Art Deco elevators and keep out the onslaught of neon chain restaurants from the heart of its city.

As someone who was never pretty or shiny, and now very far from being new, there was something that resonated with me seeing great beauty amongst crumbling buildings. As I retired yet another set of clothes that no longer fit my perimenopausal body, I was encouraged to find beauty in spite of–or perhaps because of–things that others might see as undesirable.

 

 

If you’re anything like me (or know of someone who is) you know what it is to be passed over and not chosen. Sports teams, dance partners, prom dates–it was definitely easier to be “occupied” or “too busy” when these came up so I could avoid the discomfort of being the last picked–or not even considered. There’s a reason that I never tried any dating apps–I would definitely be on the “swipe left” category–I sure hope those apps don’t give stats on how many “swipe lefts” one has–if they do, they will always be on my “never tried it, never will” list!

And yet Jesus, the bright and morning star, the king of kings, also was described as someone who “…had no stately form or majesty to attract us, no beauty that we should desire Him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Like one from whom men hide their faces, He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.” (Isaiah 53:2-3). To think that Jesus also knew intimately what it was like to be “swiped left”–swiped, striped, flogged and left alone, makes me understand that I am not alone, even when I may feel alone…there is One who has been there before me, and knows exactly how it feels.

In the book of Isaiah chapter 61, it says that God will give us beauty for ashes. I am wondering if also it is beauty because of, and out of, the ashes. This past year the same theme seems to rise up in the most unexpected places. The very things that make me most ashamed, what make me feel most unwanted, can be the very part of me that God can use to display and create His glory.

Such a crazy, wild, wonderful upside-down kingdom we inhabit. It gives me hope.

I love superhero comics. When I was in junior high and high school I got the impression that it wasn’t ok or cool for a girl who was supposed to be Most Likely to Be a Librarian to be mesmerized by comic books. Now graphic novels are the thing worthy of literary prizes (like Maus) but back when I was growing up they weren’t considered A Good Use of  Your Time, and also were A Big Waste of Money That Could Be Sent to Starving Children. So I would hide underneath the captain’s bed to read them in a few stolen minutes (ok, hours), between chores and homework.

My brother was the Keeper of the Comics in our house. Reading the latest Avengers or X Men required that you wash your hands SUPER carefully, take ONE comic book out of its plastic cover – (“Don’t bend it!!! You’ll totally make it lose its resale value!”) and turn each page with two hands. The really good ones there were two copies just in case his clumsy sister messed up one copy, so that the “investment copy” didn’t get ruined.

I loved the idea of having a superpower that could help you soar over the scary parts of life–invincible and unafraid in the face of a home life that was at times frightening. As a kid I felt so un- un-able, unwanted, unpopular, you name it, I was the “un” one, even within my own family. The specter of shame loomed large in our family:–don’t shame your team, don’t bring shame to your parents.

This past Easter I had a strange epiphany. Saddled with the job of giving a team devotion on Easter Sunday, I read through the Easter story–last supper, betrayal, crucifixion…and I wondered what the disciples felt like hearing Jesus predict his death–and then seeing the crucifixion. I don’t think we have anything that resonates in the same way…but I thought, “What if I was a follower of X, and he or she said, ‘Just so you know, in three days, I’ll be found in a crack house next to two meth addicts and I’ll be killed in the police raid. And it will be a good thing.’ ” I am not so sure how your church body would respond, but I think there would be a few folks who would say that wasn’t something to boast about.

And yet.

And yet Paul said that he would boast in Christ crucified…and I began to wonder–if the very thing that seemed to be the greatest shame, was actually the thing that was Jesus’ demonstration of super-power, what did that mean for me?

Is it possible that the very things that I am most ashamed of, are the things that can be transformed by God to become a “superpower”? Jason Gray, in a 2008 interview, said “…with my stuttering, I get to symbolically stand for the truth that God takes all those things – all of our brokenness – and turns them into our qualifications… it doesn’t really matter what’s in our hands, what we think we can bring to the table. All that matters is that we come to the table, and let God look after the rest. One of the byproducts of all this is the fact that if we come and serve and work out of our weakness, those who are weak won’t be afraid of us, we become a safe place for others.” (RR Interview: Jason Gray, by Matt Conner, Sept 2, 2008)

Shame into Superpower. That would be a good thing.

 

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton