The Joy of Knowing

We are so intricately made that we don’t even know ourselves. How mind-boggling is that? We blink and suddenly we’ve changed… yet somehow we convince ourselves that we know and understand each other. That we know all there is to know about the friend we’ve known for three months or a year… or at least all that is worth knowing. Man. There are so many layers to every person I’ve ever met. How can I continue being content knowing people for four months and then moving on?

I want to settle into one place. One set of people. I want to spend years and years, the rest of my life really, focusing on knowing one set of people. And I don’t just want to know. I want to love. I don’t want to back away when I figure out that you’re not perfect. I want to embrace that imperfection because it is exactly the same imperfection I see in myself. We’re all walking around missing the mark and we’re all covering it up. I want to be with people who know my depravity. I want to live into the truth that I am corrupt, not because I want to be more corrupt but because I don’t think that corruption can be escaped until I admit it and I don’t think admitting it to myself carries nearly as much weight as allowing other people into my life to see me for who I really am.

I wasn’t made to run to God alone. I can sometimes convince myself that my relationship with God was meant to be a ‘me and God strolling through a quiet meadow’ type relationship. Then I mess up. And God uses someone else to turn me back in the right direction. God uses my friends, my acquaintances, my professors, even strangers to turn me around- to fill me up with hope. Only when I enter into the stampede of people running towards God do I ever seem to experience meadow-moments. I want this shared experience to be deepened by time. We are dreadfully wicked and delightfully liberated by the same God. With this knowledge, why would we not want to strive for greater knowledge of who we are- together? Simply put- let us endeavor to be friends.