Back in the day
Phone calls today that bring butterflies to my stomach.
"More weird stuff from the past?" Kinda. Read more...A dedicated Morman uncle of mine called me out of the blue last night and left me a voicemail ... just calling to say hello and see how life is treating me. He is a wonderful man by everything that I can see: a hard-working sort of fella' with a warm way about him. The last time we saw one another was at a family reunion. I remember talking with him and his wife for over an hour about the nature of God and Life. We wrestled back and forth, discussing and arguing various differences in our faith. It was a good conversation, nothing super heated or mean spirited. Just your every day Mormon vs. Evangelical attempts to convert one another sort of a thing. I think we ended the talk with a unified prayer and hugs. He mailed me a copy of The Book of Mormon, which still sits in my bottom right desk drawer here at the office, barely opened. I told him I'd read it but I haven't. That was over two years ago. Now, he calls... and I'm glad to hear his voice. The butterflies come from one area alone: I'm embarassed at the state of my faith.
A second voicemail was waiting for me this morning. It was from a very cool kat I've known since my RadioShack days back when I was working my way through college. Back then, this friend of mine was a hooligan in every sense of the word. I remember him punching a co-worker of ours in the nose, nearly breaking it, right in the middle of a shift with customers in the store and everything. The guy had it coming, was mouthing of like crazy to this buddy of mine, who was not the sort of guy one should be mouthing off to. Anyhow, this friend of mine was living the run and gun, drink it up, love 'em and leave 'em sort of lifestyle but dispite our differing lifestyles, for one reason or another, we enjoyed one another's company. From time to time we'd grab a bite to eat together at lunch or after work. I remember one night we played hoops out near his apartment complex. I had challenged him to a game of 21. Lets just say, he beat me... BAD. And I remember another night after a long night's work at RadioShack. That night, as we stacked boxes and counted transistors, he opened up to me about his life and some drama that he was going through. I prayed with him and afterwards looked him in the eyes, both of us tearing up, "Bro, God is after you... I can feel it. Do you know anything about Jesus?" He had grown up going to church, but abandoned his relationship with God in his late teens. "Yeah... I know Him. But that sh** ain't for me man." ... Three years later, he was worshiping God with a beautiful bride and two children. He had become a Christian rap artist and invited me to see his show one day. With the family and some friends in tow, we showed up to see him perform. He had some great chops. In the middle of it, he stopped the show and shared his testimony. Yours truly was pointed out in the audience, asked to stand, and was lavished thanks and praise for my instrumental roll in bringing him 'back around to the Lord'. It was an honor, and a humbling experience to feel so used to encourage this awesomely talented guy. ... And so, I hear his voice on my cell phone today, and mixed with my joy in hearing from him is this feeling of shame for where my confused self is at today.
All my life, I've been a banner carrier and trumpeter for Christ. I've marched when given the order. And I've done my best to encourage others to listen for their own calling and respond ... And here I am now, running in to friends and family whom I haven't spoken to in so long and I'm saddened. Its as though I spent time recruiting them to an army for which I no longer fight for anymore. What do I say to them about it all? My whole identity has been so tied to Christ my whole life that if I were to say nothing, I'd feel utterly fraudulent. It would be as though they were talking to the regular ol' Christ-serving Miroslav, when in reality they'd be talking to the I-Don't-Know-Which-Way-Is-Up Miroslav. Do I owe it to them to tell them where I'm at when the inevitable "So how's it goin' man?" comes up?
I've called 'em both back. Left two voicemails this morning.
Walking through these last several years has been the most frustrating, confusing, humbling, sad experience ever. I swear.
"More weird stuff from the past?" Kinda. Read more...A dedicated Morman uncle of mine called me out of the blue last night and left me a voicemail ... just calling to say hello and see how life is treating me. He is a wonderful man by everything that I can see: a hard-working sort of fella' with a warm way about him. The last time we saw one another was at a family reunion. I remember talking with him and his wife for over an hour about the nature of God and Life. We wrestled back and forth, discussing and arguing various differences in our faith. It was a good conversation, nothing super heated or mean spirited. Just your every day Mormon vs. Evangelical attempts to convert one another sort of a thing. I think we ended the talk with a unified prayer and hugs. He mailed me a copy of The Book of Mormon, which still sits in my bottom right desk drawer here at the office, barely opened. I told him I'd read it but I haven't. That was over two years ago. Now, he calls... and I'm glad to hear his voice. The butterflies come from one area alone: I'm embarassed at the state of my faith.
A second voicemail was waiting for me this morning. It was from a very cool kat I've known since my RadioShack days back when I was working my way through college. Back then, this friend of mine was a hooligan in every sense of the word. I remember him punching a co-worker of ours in the nose, nearly breaking it, right in the middle of a shift with customers in the store and everything. The guy had it coming, was mouthing of like crazy to this buddy of mine, who was not the sort of guy one should be mouthing off to. Anyhow, this friend of mine was living the run and gun, drink it up, love 'em and leave 'em sort of lifestyle but dispite our differing lifestyles, for one reason or another, we enjoyed one another's company. From time to time we'd grab a bite to eat together at lunch or after work. I remember one night we played hoops out near his apartment complex. I had challenged him to a game of 21. Lets just say, he beat me... BAD. And I remember another night after a long night's work at RadioShack. That night, as we stacked boxes and counted transistors, he opened up to me about his life and some drama that he was going through. I prayed with him and afterwards looked him in the eyes, both of us tearing up, "Bro, God is after you... I can feel it. Do you know anything about Jesus?" He had grown up going to church, but abandoned his relationship with God in his late teens. "Yeah... I know Him. But that sh** ain't for me man." ... Three years later, he was worshiping God with a beautiful bride and two children. He had become a Christian rap artist and invited me to see his show one day. With the family and some friends in tow, we showed up to see him perform. He had some great chops. In the middle of it, he stopped the show and shared his testimony. Yours truly was pointed out in the audience, asked to stand, and was lavished thanks and praise for my instrumental roll in bringing him 'back around to the Lord'. It was an honor, and a humbling experience to feel so used to encourage this awesomely talented guy. ... And so, I hear his voice on my cell phone today, and mixed with my joy in hearing from him is this feeling of shame for where my confused self is at today.
All my life, I've been a banner carrier and trumpeter for Christ. I've marched when given the order. And I've done my best to encourage others to listen for their own calling and respond ... And here I am now, running in to friends and family whom I haven't spoken to in so long and I'm saddened. Its as though I spent time recruiting them to an army for which I no longer fight for anymore. What do I say to them about it all? My whole identity has been so tied to Christ my whole life that if I were to say nothing, I'd feel utterly fraudulent. It would be as though they were talking to the regular ol' Christ-serving Miroslav, when in reality they'd be talking to the I-Don't-Know-Which-Way-Is-Up Miroslav. Do I owe it to them to tell them where I'm at when the inevitable "So how's it goin' man?" comes up?
I've called 'em both back. Left two voicemails this morning.
Walking through these last several years has been the most frustrating, confusing, humbling, sad experience ever. I swear.
posted by Miroslav at 11:17 AM
2 Comments:
Miro My Son.
I admire and am encouraged by your transparency whenever I read your blog, each time we talk heart to heart, and when I consider the many years you prayed for me.
Your faithfulness in praying, all the while knowing that God had a purpose for me beyond the choices I continued to make, is something I am grateful for daily.
I love you and I know that God has a purpose in what you are walking through now.
As for how to proceed, let me say that I rely on your honesty and candor, even when it's uncomfortable. I'll bet that Byron and Radio Shack Dude can handle it and might appreciate it a lot.
Your turn...let US pray for YOU!
Lots of love from Yo Momma
Yo Momma,
Thanks for your encouragement and love!
I talked with both guys that I mentioned in this post and it was great. ... I actually have a breakfast date scheduled with my buddy from the RadioShack days.
Its just a difficult conversation to walk through, ya know?
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