The Power

Recently, (not that recently, actually...I'm behind on my updates) I got back from a retreat for the church leadership team that I (against all objections and with great reluctance) have been a part of for the past 6 months. I complain because I care. It's really all I have to offer.

We will return to my poor attitude in a minute. In the meantime, let me give you a little excerpt from my personal life. There was an activity (as there often is at this kind of function) where we were supposed to write notes of encouragement to other people in the team and hang them on a clothesline outside the conference center banquet hall. I'm not usually a fan of cliche sentiments, but I do love me some notes of encouragement. I figure that my South African friend Greg won't mind me sharing what he wrote, since he signed his name, and this is written exactly in the way that he talks. He's from Cape Town (South African Santa Cruz):

"Steve-o!

Dude, you are awesome. It has been rad to the power of sick getting to know you. I love how much you know about movies, and your quirky/crazy sense of humour. Yes, HUMOUR, coz that's how my mom taught me to spell it. Keep on loving Jesus with the passion, genuine desire and hinesty that you do. May you only come to see Him more and more. Love you, bro.

-Greg"

I am genuinely starting to believe that people's love for me says more about them than it does about me.

Or, more specifically, that a person loving me well means (more than it means that I am loveable) that they have developed an ability to love another person. Beautiful that imperfect people (like me) can recieve a love that is bigger than we deserve.I think I'm really ready to give up on being a victim of this world, as though its attitude towards me had anything to do with who I am. I have decided to be known by what loves me.

Rad to the power of sick.