One

One, singular, lone. This is what I think of when I hear the number one, don't you? Consider for a moment the thought that "we" are one. "We" and "one" seem to be contradictory. I've spent the weekend hangin with our students at ONE:fallretreat. The focus was on unity in the body of Christ. We focused on the story of Daniel and his fine friends. They were one. They were unified in their devotion to God, they stood by each other, encouraged one another. They may not have been able to do all they did and gain the same amount of influence had they been going it alone.

I think we would all agree that we need someone along the way to support us in this crazy life, right? Why then do we fight so hard against that? We need our alone time, we try to fight spiritual battles alone, we suffer alone, we hide from each other. And frankly in doing so we are not only robbing ourselves of help, support, love and friendship, we are also robbing others of the opportunity to act in a way that would be pleasing to our Lord.

I really struggle with this. I think I like being alone because friendships are messy, and I am selfish. I like being alone cause its a lot easier to live in denial that way. The is no accountability when there is no one else around. When we hide our sin, our struggle, our suffering we can pretend that we are OK, life is fine. We don't have to talk about things that hurt. If I distance myself from people I can pretend I am fine. If I surround myself with people who love me I will eventually be forced to give an honest assessment of my state, which is honestly a very broken one. I so desperately want to be great, to be wonderful, to even be just fine. I've decided that maybe the one that Christ intended is a better option. I am missing out on the benefit of being one with Christ, being one with the church.

I am hoping that the body will take care of me the tiniest part among it. See I've got the deep gaping wound that I thought wouldn't need stitches. I thought I could just take care of it myself, slap a band aid on it, rub some dirt on it, walk it off. Turns out I am mistaken. I really need that hand over there to help me up. I need those arms to hold me til its better. I need that mouth to tell me that it's normal that this hurts, and that its OK that the anesthetics aren't working.

Maybe you already know this, but we suffered the loss of a sweet baby a few months ago. I have not wanted to talk about it (i'm still not really thrilled about the idea). I've been hiding, and hoping to outrun the anguish (impossible). I am left feeling very alone, longing to be whole and happy, and for grief to give me a break already. My pretending to be fine has not helped the situation, it has simply made it that much harder to admit that I am so far from fine its not even funny. I have come to realize this: we cannot bear one another's burdens if we do not know of their existence.

God so desires for us to lessen the load, and I know what a blessing it is to do so. That's what we are here for, and we won't make it unless we are unified by our love for Christ and our subsequent love for each other. Let us go and be the hands and feet of Christ in a hurting world. Let us be ONE.