Last Exit Before Oblivion

"Relationships," Rick said. "That's what life is about." 1972, or thereabouts.

Having no dream of my own, I signed on first to Craig's dream of a new life through Jesus--I had nothing to lose but a dead-end job in Kansas--and then to Rick's. I'd never had many friends. Maybe this would change.

30-odd years later, nothing has changed. By the criteria I use to judge real friendship, all of mine are distant. I'm an asteroid far from the warming sun. I've gotten used to it.

I thought this might change through Mosaic. Be in contact with people, friendships might come about. That didn't happen either; somehow, the Velcro that holds groups together got left out of my makeup. The Cat who Walks by Himself is another name for me.

But I did come out of Mosaic with something new, something that hadn't occurred to me before it happened. At the time I sort of considered God to the be the booby prize: having failed to make human friends, I was forced into second-best. I mean, if relationships are the purpose of human life, what am I? Complete failure? Anyone can claim friendship with God. Many do, and are branded nutcases.

Maybe there's another way of looking at this. A real friendship with God might be the necessary first step into human relationships. After all, I've pretty well failed in most human regards, so God has to first teach me how to be human. I'm long since past thinking of a relationship with God as the booby prize. It's his hand over that abyss, not mine nor anyone else's.

He, by his kept promises, has earned my respect. People keep promises when it's convenient to do so. God makes a promise and then does everything he has to in order to make it happen. If it means giving up his son's life as a sacrifice to make a friendship possible, he will do so. He never quits, never gets tired, never gets crabby after answering the same question for the 34th time.

I'm used to broken dreams. I gave up on them years ago and have been living more on momentum than anything else ever since. People disappoint, I disappoint. Right now it's God guiding me and holding me together that makes anything possible. Maybe that relationship is the real cornerstone for any solid building.

I don't know where we're going. Based on my experience of the last couple of years, I trust God knows what he's doing in the guidance department. He knows where we're going. He also knows why. I'm just tired of it. He has told me why: to make me like his Son, Jesus. He'd probably tell me how if I asked, but I don't want to look any farther ahead than I have to.

When Jesus said you must die to yourself he wasn't kidding at all. He is very gentle in applying that, as gentle as possible pressing toward change, but it's still the end of the road for the old way of life, decided each second of each day, a million tiny deaths leading to, I hope, one big new life. I can't imagine it. Right now it seems impossibly far away, but God holds my hand. He's committed, and I guess I am too. I know what the country behind me looks like.