Friday, November 13, 2009
I've been thinkin' about a lot of stuff (most of which I'm not going to mention) but one of them is that once someone really tries to live for God and does their best to honor Him, any amount of popularity or coolness goes out the window in the minds of "the world".
Not that I was ever really popular. It's just that people on average seemed to talk to me more and be more interested in what I have to say. No one wants to hear "don't spit in God's face if you want His grace". People are much happier carrying out their lives as if He's not around, living in sin or whatever else, than having someone there to remind them (audibly or by example) that He's there, watching. I had an interesting experience recently where I dropped in on some very beloved people when they weren't expecting me and stumbled across some old-fashioned drinking and partying. It was different, to see their reactions and the way they spoke to me. I didn't say a word about it, but you could tell it was like Jiminy Cricket just walked in the room, and - oops! - I didn't know SHE was gonna be here. :P
I remember being kind of hurt that day, because the whole reason I dropped in was to spend some time with someone I love who had made plans with me earlier then decided to cancel. I held back the tears on my drive over, because I'd been missing that person so badly and couldn't understand why they would decide not to come see me. When I came over, it took a while for all of what was going on to sink in. It was like the dimmer switch of a light was slowly going up, and all the darkness and confusion in my mind was being illuminated. I would say that I discovered that what had gone on that day was nothing personal, but it was personal. I was left out (in a sense) because this was to be a party day, a day of good-ol'-worldly-fun, and they couldn't invite me to it because that's not who I am anymore. My affection for God drove a barrier between me and these dear people, and I hadn't even realized it until I walked in. My mind was then left with questions: "How long has this been going on?" "What did I do that made them think they couldn't tell me about this?" "What do they think about me?" "Whose idea was this?" And so on...
I think about popularity, and I realize that was one of the things that always seemed to evade me in life. My loved ones found it so easily (though they'll deny that to this day), but I've always been a bit too strange, too awkward, and more recently, too "Christian". I'm not saying I WANT or even NEED to be popular, I'm just kind of contemplating here. I didn't have to say a word, yet no one wanted me to be there... I wonder if they think I look haughtily down from my high, lofty place as a Christian of perfection and scoff at their evil, sin-stained lives. I thought they knew me well enough to know better.