Rock (extended entry)

That word pretty much sums up the last few weeks. Last monday, I met for prayer with some dear ones, and (naturally) the topic of the tensions came up. Jan said "you need a hammock." My mind was blown with the concept that instead of me holding the tensions, feeling as though I might snap, there might be a possibility of letting the tensions hold me -- bear me up in support and rest.

Then I went to work. I couldn't sleep and wound up watching Inside the Actor's Studio. The guest was Angelina Jolie, and while she's always seemed a bit dark and broken to me, she's hot. Really hot. So I wound up watching, and had a moment of illumination. James Lipton was asking her about her tattoos, specifically that he'd heard about the image of an open window on her back. She laughed and said "Yeah, but not anymore." When pressed for an explanation, she said, " I got that at a time in my life when I felt everything was closing in on me, like my life was about to implode, so I needed a window handy to climb out of. Now I live my life outside the window, so I closed it." And her smile wasn't dark or wounded, but real and full. It made me think.

This Friday, I went to see U2 with three of my best friends and had a thoroughgoing blast! The Star-Trib reviewer referred to Bono as "The Pope of Rock", and I think that fits. I have so much respect for the man and the band that I almost live in a precarious fear of it being shattered. Ken heard on the radio that all four members of the band were outside the Target Center, shaking hands and signing stuff for an hour and a half or so before the show. The biggest band in the world rubbing elbows with the fans? Wow.

The music was great, but the moments that stick with me most were the human ones. A young woman was down front with a sign that read "Bono, I lost 75 pounds to dance with you." He took the sign and held it up to the cameras, shaking his head in awe. Then he reached down and pulled her up on stage, dancing with her through "Elevation." He didn't HAVE to do that. And he didn't make a big deal about the weight thing or anything -- he just treated her like a person. He actually seemed honored to have her onstage.

At another moment, a parent held up a kid who couldn't have been more than nine or ten (never mind the ramifications of bringing a kid to a rock concert - I'm not going to argue that one. If it was U2 and I had a kid and I could afford it, I would have). Bono reached down and locked fingers with the kid, looking right into his eyes as he sang (if I remember right) "Where the Streets Have No Name." That is a lucky kid. I wonder if his life will be any different?

The word of the night was CoeXisT. The "C" was the crescent of Islam, the X was the Star of David, and the T was the cross. Bono named Muslims, Jews, and Christians as sons of Abraham, and he was right. He did not say that all three religions were right, or valid. He did not tout universalism. He simply appealed to our common heritage and called on us to see each other as human. He didn't say it in so many words, but he reminded us of the fingerprints of God on all humanity.

The concert made me wonder more about the open windows, about how to live outside them, honoring God and myself and others, resting in a hammock He wove. I had a nagging sensation that something's been wrong inside for a while. At first I pushed it away, writing it off to stress, but then I started to pay attention more and more and began to actively wonder. Church this morning only served to confirm the realization that's been stalking me for a while.

Thus, the other sense of the word "rock": my head. I realized that, since school started, I've been practicing the presence of homework. Practicing the presence of the tensions, and not the One who resolves them. I am so sorry. I'm sorry for all the friends to whom I haven't been myself. I'm sorry for the opportunities I've let slide. I'm sorry for insisting on carrying all this and shutting out the only Hands that are strong enough. I give up. This is a lesson I never seem to master, but for the moment at least, I'm dropping the fear and the performance and the stress and the sorrow. I still have homework to do, but I'm trying to go to it prayerfully, listening. I hope I'm not the only thick skull here in blogland, but even if I am, I'm just grateful that God's patient enough to crack it.

I wish all of you the hammock of His goodness and the rest of His grace.

Deo Gratias.