We would.

We could change our names you and I. We could.

And then leave because there was nothing left for us here.

We'd take one backpack and fill it with nothing. Maybe one granola bar. but maybe not. Even that might be too much.

We couldn't take any money, because it'd be too heavy.

And we couldn't bring my camera, because they'd find us.

An extra pair of socks can be worn, not carried.

And we'd leave. With a single backpack strapped up on your back.

I would miss them, and you would miss them, but we'd say "we'll come back here someday."

Both of us knowing we never would.

We could walk. Then take turns carrying each other. When we needed to cross the ocean, we'd joke about swimming, then consider it silently. Then we'd ask for a plane ticket. But none would fall from the sky. So we'd ask for two plane tickets. one for me, and one for you. But nothing would come. So we'd ask for two boat tickets. one for you, and one for me. And a elderly woman in a fancy car would offer us 500 dollars to drive her to the coast. So we would, knowing that we now had two boat tickets. While we drive her, we'd find out her name was June, and she had lost her loves. And we'd tell her our story, of how we gave up our loves. for this. And we'd tell her about our Dad. How we learn more about Him, when we give up everything, and keep moving. And June would understand. June would know, because she needed to see our Dad by the ocean. the sounds of crashing water, the smell of dry tears, and the wind, oh the wind. The wind alone could blow away memories tumble-weeding around June's kindred mind.

We would thank June and tell her we'd see her at our Dad's house someday. And she'd ask for our names and we'd say we were brothers, or sisters, or maybe married, or young children but then realize we'd left ourselves behind, and we didn't know the answer to that question anymore. Then, she'd name us something that both of us would eventually forget.

Then we'd get on our boat and curtsy and bow to the land we'd never see again except in dreams and memories. And the ocean might stand up and clap its hands. Or it might not.

And we wouldn't be able to sleep when the moon was barely out, because the stars would be too distracting. And I'd tell you my explanation behind for the stars. That our world at night was just a black beach ball that our Dad had poked holes in, and nights like these His light shined through each tiny pinprick. And you'd think I was crazy; and I'd tell you that I didn't remember what the real reason was behind the stars anyway, because that other world was too far away. And you'd agree, that other world was too far gone.

Yes, we could leave, friend. We would forget our names, and keep moving toward our Dad.

BAM! and then change happens.

Loneliness sneaks up on you. It is unexpected and generally a surprise.

One minute you are enjoying your time being alone doing something you haven't done in a while; and the next minute, BOOM! some dark presence looms over your heart and you are 'lonely'. And then, unless rebuked in the name of Jesus, he stays for a while. Loneliness pops up his tent and starts finding dry twigs to start a fire. It doesn't really matter if you are suddenly bombarded by people, Loneliness will just sit there vacationing in your spirit.

You can always kick him out. That usually works with a phone call home, or some prayer time, or to drive or run or walk or bike somewhere, anywhere where you know somebody who lives and breathes and communicates in some way.

But sometimes, you just let Lonely sit there for a while. Because it seems like his company is better than no company. Then Lonely, he is quite the partier, he invites his friend Pity. and then, before you know it, on a friday night, You, Lonely, and Pity are partying it up by yourselves.

Pity is talkative and has a really great memory. So he tells you about the times your friends didn't call. And then he brings up conversation about your lack of communication skills. Then, before you can stop him from saying something, BAM-in-your-face, HE MENTIONS: relationships. Does this sound familiar: "Oh, you're still NOT in ANY kind of relationship?! Man, how long has it been? How many months? years?? You'd think by now, I mean, come on, you're young -- live your life!"

And you try to defend yourself, jumbling up some mutterings about how God has a plan for your life and how God has someone for you, and even if he doesn't, you'll be happy because you and God are super close and you think you're in love with him.

Which Pity responds: "Is that why you're here with us? Because God wants you to chill with classy guys like us? Right..."

Then with that remark, you realize that you have been sitting around an imaginary camp fire with Pity and Lonely as your only closest companions. At which point, you stand up, rake your hands through your hair and swear your favorite profanity OUT LOUD and it escapes through the cracks of your fingers that are smothering your face. then you tell your shitty friends to leave, and that they aren't welcome, and that you'd rather camp with Alone than Lonely. And that you'd rather have deep talks with God, instead of Pity. And they take off because they know and you know, the King's love should not be messed with, that royalty and deep romance has infallible power and if the unwelcomed guests didn't scram, they'd probably end up dead, or in a herd of swine, or something worse.

Meanwhile, you grab your bike to converse with other servants to the great I AM. but something stops you. And you decide to just write about how this Great King, this Lover of yours, has changed your entire life. How He has created something new from the old you, the old things you used to do just don't seem worth it anymore--and you can't believe you ever listened to Pity's lies. But none of THAT even matters anymore because just the look of His eyes, melts your heart. Just His eyes. Not to mention His holed hands. And you, without a second thought, ask Him, beg Him, if He can be with you forever. You want to marry Him, but even that wouldn't ever be enough because it's too mortal and too lowly compared to Him. You ask Him how this bond, this relationship, this all-consuming passionate LOVE, can be rooted deeper, and wider -- you ask Him: "How can THIS love last forever? How is that possible? How does this fire NOT burn out after all these years? What if someday it all comes crashing down and you decide to leave? How can you promise it will be for forever?"

And He says:

Because you were created to be with Me. You were made missing something, so that I could give you it. It lasts and it burns still today because you can't live without me, and I sure don't want to live without you.

And all of the sudden, somewhere between the lines of the page, you realize this moment within your friday night, has become one of the most special of your life.

Choose: me or him.

The past week or so has been a struggle. I will not pretend I have been happy-happy Jesus-follower. I will not pretend I have been obedient to God when He has asked me to do particular things. I will not pretend to have it all together. I will not pretend that I paid attention to the needy and was kind to the ones closest to me. It has been a spiritual/emotional/selfish struggle. I will not pretend I have been slow to anger, because I have not been. Thank God, for forgiveness. Thank God, for friends and family who forgive me when I hurt them with my words, actions, and inactions.

Off-track and off-balance and not listening, I was/am scared. I am scared of something. I think I am scared of abandonment? And not just God abandoning me, but also scared of me-abandoning-me. Which I shouldn't be scared of because it is exactly what God calls us to do: (check out the scripture quoted in the column to the right, next to my name). Taking up my cross to follow Him. Self-abandonment.

God has told me some things that wreck my old dreams and plans. His words knock over my tower of pride and self-success. And I LIKE that he has done this; I LOVE HIM MORE for doing this. Yet, at the same time, it scares me, because of how much trust it requires of me. Trust, for me = HUGE tug-of-war with God and in my close relationships. (I realize I am not alone in this and everyone struggles with trust in different ways).

I am being vague.

Last night was a great night of worshipping God. He kept saying 'I AM here.' 'I AM here.' 'I AM here.'

And then he gave me a word which is a similar quote from the movie the Notebook, yes God is that intimate. Keep in mind, that I have been disobedient to His voice, I do not deserve what I receive; yet, he loves me anyway: "I WANT you. I want every part of you today, tomorrow, and forever. Stay with me." Then he told me about the life he's offering: "Give up the other man. If you want money, go with him. If you want a big house and shiny rings and the American dream, go with him. You won't have those things with me. But, if you want love. If you want forgiveness new every morning. If you want me always next to you. If you want my dancing, joyful love. If you want my life to be yours. Come, come away with me! Come away, love. Let's climb to the highest point of that mountain and jump off into the ocean, Beloved. Leave your skeleton dreams behind, and come, I have a different kind of life for you."

We are all called from something different than the world offers. I am still asking God what kind of life he wants and what that looks like, but I know I'm being changed.

He wants me. He's been calling after me even when I was far off. and I want to sit at his feet and hear his voice. I want to serve Him. I want to let go of my rights of riches and comfort.

Teach me how to let go, Father.

"Come, follow me." Mark 1:17