The truth behind attraction

It starts with a realization. Usually, a jerk move of the cosmos to get our attention. Then, after we've had our whine, we take stock and--hopefully--let the experience teach us.

At least, that's how the life-shifts--no, paradigm shifts--have happened in my own life. Worldview shakers, is more like it. For instance: relationships. I'll start there, because I think its the first time I really had God shake things up for me.

It's not all sex and candy

I was in college when this hit me. A senior. And, being senior part of a Christian group, I was responsible for shepherding new freshmen into the flock so they wouldn't get sucked into a life of alcoholic debauchery threatening to overtake them elsewhere on campus.
A rather self-absorbed summer before my Junior year led me to realize that this task of Shepherd was not to be taken lightly. In short, I didn't want to screw it up.

Enter my dilemma

New freshmen faces; three of them, whom I had never laid eyes on, came through the door, and I was smitten. But the weird thing was, I was attracted to the less attractive of the two girls.
See my problem? I mean, if I was going to be attracted to one of the girls, wouldn't it have been the one who was more my type?
And that's when it hit me - what if my attraction wasn't for dating? I mean, I had always assumed that being attracted to a girl meant that I should ask her out, get to know her, and then eventually marry her. But this was so jarringly different that I had to take notice.

So here's the shift: Attraction in a pre-fallen reality would be a signal for ministry. I'm attracted to you, you get my attention. You're attracted to the other person, and they get attention, and maybe that person is attracted to me so I'm not left wanting. If merely platonic, that system is flawless. But enter lust and jealousy, and the whole thing looks like, well, like every Lifetime movie ever made.

Mind. Blown.

You mean my feelings for that girl are so that I'll pray for her? Seek to help her love Jesus more? Find friends who can also minister to her? But that seems so... well, so sensible, actually. I mean, it matches what we know about what God created us for. Relationships, right? Not broken, sexually-compromised relationships. Real, heart-felt relationships. Truly caring for another person, altruistically.

If that obsession of yours for Emma Watson is so you'll pray for her, then you better believe she'll be getting prayer.

How great would it be if you knew there were people who had your back merely because they liked you? And not so that they could sleep with you? Just honest-to-goodness compassion. You might feel a little better about things. Yourself, for instance. And who couldn't use a little ego boost now and again?

So, this understanding rocked my beliefs about relationships. But, more than that, it showed me that when viewed through the lens of what life should have been, this current world and all its problems start to make a lot more sense. 

Finding God in the Miasma

Somewhere, life happened. 20 years of pushing God aside to pay bills and seek a career, I lost Jesus. It happened halfway between work and jump-on-daddy time. But then I tripped over my calling for the umpteenth time and discovered what I’d misplaced: God as provider. 

Ever been so atrophied that you don’t move—despite that heart exploding beneath your ribs—toward something better? Paralyzed by angst; vibrating motionless in the face of known resolutions; only to be slowly reduced to a powerless agent on the battlefield? 

The shrapnel—bills, diets, yardwork, kids, lost love, spent dreams—it rips the flesh. Gaping wounds, demanding attention, cry out for mortality! 

And the still small voice is, well, lost.

But what if God really does provide? Would that change things? I’m in the process of finding out. Slowly, trying to purpose release and embrace—losing life to gain soul—in my life. 

And it’s in this tiny nugget—you might have missed it, actually—where the flip happened (Funny how God’s changes are typically just small tweaks in perspective). If I don’t have to worry about those things—like bills, food, meaning—then I can focus on the calling. And then another flip happens. In doing what He’s asked of me, the focus is no longer the calling but the voice doing the calling.

Singular focus on the Savior in the maelstrom of life. 

Of course, I’m coming at it backwards. You might say it, “Focus on Jesus and the rest will follow”. Either way the exchange is this: When we do what He’s called us to do, He handles the miasma—all that stuff getting in the way. Beyond that, every step we take toward doing the calling systematically equips us to handle the kind of tasks that keep us up at night.

But, of course, that’s another post altogether…