Walls

I'm sitting here listening to bluegrass on Last.FM.  For the last 45 minutes or so I've been trying to remember what it was I wanted to talk about in this post.  I promised you guys doing more, and I'm committed to it, so I was really trying.  After a good bit of procrastinating of course.

Alas I'm pretty sure I finally remember what it was.

I'll begin it, and therefore finally actually writing this post by putting up some lyrics.  "Walls" is the name of a song by Emery, one of my favorite bands.  Its from their first album, titled The Weak's End.

"Are you listening?
we write a thousand pages, they're torn and on the floor
headlights hammer the windows, we're locked behind these doors
and we are never leaving, this place is part of us
and all these scenes repeating are cold to the touch

my hands seem to deceive me
when I'm nervous or when I'm healthy.
the scenery's all drawn.

they hang here from the walls dear,
painting pictures, bleeding colors,
blanket the windows.

sometimes it gets so hard to breathe.
your eyes can see right through me.

these fights with your arms left beside.
one thing and one more says goodnight.
you've got the map come get to me.
these knuckles break before they bleed.

tear out these veins that own my heart.
this skin that wears your lasting marks.
i've built these walls come get to me, come get to me.

is this your lesson, a slight discretion,
the lines that keep you, the lines that sweep you.
lock the doors from the inside.

your face is so contagious, it wears announcements,
it leaves me breathless, i won't forget this.

let the walls have their say.

there's no conversation, words without remorse
and this television drowns the only source
wake from these dreams of you in my arms
to the staircase where you hold my heart
this place, these walls mean everything to me."

Can anyone see where I'm going with this?

Lately I've noticed that there seem to be walls everywhere.  I think where I first became aware of it is an article I read a few weeks ago.  It was an article some woman wrote for a single's ministry website.  The article was entitled something like, "Not Shopping for a Husband" or some stupid crap like that.  The article was pretty much crap.  The author was pretty much saying that she used to have a list of hopes or expectations for her future husband.  But she'd recently come to believe, through seeing one of her friends do it, that she should abandon that list.  Now in principle this may sound good, and in fact in a few minutes I'll be arguing in partial favor of it.    It bugged me initially, but then the author related the story of her friend.  Her friend used to have a list.  Her friend also had a guy whom was a good friend, but certainly did not match the list.  At some point the friend realized what a good guy this fella she said she'd never date was.  How much he'd been there for her and so on.  And decided to marry him.  Or something.  Here's the principle problem I see.

I like spiritual attraction as much as the next God fearing cat, and I believe in the rightness of a God-centered refining life whereby we constantly move towards a greater likeness of God.  If my "dating pool", in a theoretical sense, is only of like minded people, then all such girls should be expected to possess similar qualities as found in the guy from the story.  If we jettison lists and only go based on spirituality and a person's goodness in their behavior towards us, or as may be the case, the motivating affection, our future spouse then becomes an interchangeable proposition.  Think on it.  If we really draw our lines so far back, what's the point?  Suddenly "everybody" is game.  And though "everybody" is a fairly small field, I believe, personally and theologically, that its simply way too big.  Imagine marrying someone you find annoying and don't like being around, because they love Jesus, and have always been good to you.  It may be extreme, but it puts it in perspective.

Now out present time, it would actually do me good to discover a God who would completely overcome any of my personal expectations and deliver untold happiness in a significant other.  See even tonight, I found myself thinking about . . . her.  Unfortunate and distasteful as I find that.  Even if I, by way of internal conviction or Godly devotion, find myself devoid of actively feeling for or missing her, I can't forget the objective joy of being with her.  When I think of meeting someone, I invariably find myself wanting qualities Heather possessed.  And not just surfacey things, though I did find myself both yesterday and today remarking she is still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.  Its deep things, like how much she loved books and reading, even more than myself.  How much she liked art.  Poetry, which I personally dislike.  She favored music I found difficult to listen to, and now I find myself envisioning someone else, exactly like that.

This is embarrassingly pathetic disclosure of the heart.


So here I find myself in a quite interesting proposition.  The grander elements are my inability to lay feelings for her to rest, and the possibility of God's role in that.  The solid desire, again by God or by actively denying Him, to be head's up in term's of girls, while contemplating the very nature of dating.  And wishing, fruitlessly, to be rid of thinking about any of it at all.  So if I actually manage to convince myself that its just me and I need to move on, and I begin thinking about the awkwardness of wanting to date someone again, I find myself in a rather precarious position.  Because if I consider girls without qualities I found, and so deeply enjoyed in Heather, I can feel the impending sadness.  The knowledge that sometime, some little thing will happen and you'll just feel that deep seeded knowledge that you're not happy.  Which for a bit more circular thinking leads me back to, "why did God ever set us up?"

But my theology does not come from personal experience.  Its comes from Scripture, interpreted through tradition, understood by reason, and vivified by experience.

What I'm then left with is a set of questions, or perhaps just one.  I was talking with a friend about this article, and our own struggles with singlehood and expectations and keeping people out, and we reached a point where we had to wonder.

When does having expectations become building walls?

Even if I can't recognize them it seems rather immature to think I haven't constructed rather serious barricades as a result of splitting with the woman I still know God told me to propose to.  It ends up being an issue of what walls I've built, vs. what role I'm really supposed to play in God's selection of a mate for me.  The phrasing of the second part is important because it cuts off cries of "well you just trust God."  But its like in selection of careers.  God gives us gifts and desires, and part of being fulfilled is recognizing those and letting God advance the kingdom through them.  But sometimes that is proactive, and that means knowing and obeying.

I really freaking hate talking about girls and Heather.  Seriously.  Hate.

Fortunately, though ultimately rather unfortunately, I can see where this applies to other areas of my life.  Take for instance where I find myself right now.  I don't have those desperately necessary close male relationships.  Because through my own wall building and others these relationships haven't reached their full potential.  They're not ripping at the fabric of our souls to make sure its pure.  What a tragedy.

It happens when I'm struggling with God too.  I just want to push everyone out and feel that pressing weight.  Not because I really want to, but that's the dark draw.  The push from the dark passenger.  The self that refuses to die.  The remnants of a man covered in sin clinging to the life of a man born of blood.

I can see it in my relationship with God.  It seems as though I'm not hearing from God, but that's idiotic.  Even if He's just saying "I love you" He's always saying something.  Always.  Through any avenue He can.  Speaking directly, speaking through The Letter.  Using other people.  Nature. Music.  But I can't hear Him.

That means I've put up walls.  Walls between my heart and its only substance and necessary sustenance, which are the bloody love of the sacrificing King.  What can I possibly be thinking?  I want Him there.  Desperately.
I don't even recognize what the walls are.  All I know is that I want them gone.

Dear God, tear me down that you may build me, exactly as You wish.