Radically Beautiful

Dear friend,

I just wanted to let you know, for what it’s worth, I admire you. Know that I see how hard you

work—whether you’re working on a project or working to hold yourself together. Yeah. I’ve seen both. But I’m proud of you. Let’s imagine for a moment that I know or can guess a lot of what I don’t see. Maybe at some level we’re not all that different. I certainly don’t say that to insult you. Have you heard, more than once, the phrase, “It takes one to know one”? Enough said.

Where we’re different is that you are radically beautiful. I don’t mean how you look, or how you dress, although you do seem well put together. What I do mean is this: Somehow you’ve put together a patchwork set of successes and failures, a jumble of joys and pains, laughter and tears, desire and despair, courage and fear, into a beautiful life. I’ll say it again. When I see you, I’m overwhelmed how truly beautiful you are. I’m better when I’m in your orbit. You’re someone whose time I crave. I’ll drive a hundred miles for a few minutes of with you. I genuinely enjoy you.

Can I ask you a question? OK maybe a few? What is it that motivates you to move ahead? Do you ever get tired? Does being busy become a different drug designed to numb or escape the hurt in your heart and the pain in your past? You’re always running forward. Are you wondering or worried if there is there something that’s chasing you? And what if there is? How long can you run harder or faster before you fall down?

Can I ask an even tougher question? What if what’s chasing you isn’t an enemy, but a friend. Oh I don’t mean the animals of guilt and shame and the hurtful hunger of “not enough”. They’re chasing you, all right. Even when we pretend they’re not. But most of the time, you’re able to do something to quiet the voices in your head. Just like everyone else. Make no mistake. That’s just Human Behavior 101. No judgment here. How do you think I know what it’s like to be you?

No, I’ve got a different chase in mind. What if what’s chasing you is something that scares you far more. What if what’s chasing you is Grace? I know. You don’t believe in that. OK. You did once. Remember the 23 rd Psalm? "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures.”

Don’t get lost in the poetry. Think for a minute about the raw truth that’s being delivered here. David compares God to a Shepherd, which makes David, and me, and you in that analogy, sheep. Yes I know . I appreciate your objections. I’m more than willing to hear them. But hang with me. Think about what’s being said. Sheep have to be forced to lie down and rest in the best possible of places. Sheep—David or you or me—fight against

the idea of Grace. This, I think you and I can agree, is certainly true.

And if we can agree we’re like sheep, working backwards, maybe it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine there is a Shepherd. I know you don’t believe in God. Or maybe you just don’t care. Fair enough. The God I believe in took 40 years to catch me, and chases me still. I just wonder, that’s all.

What would happen if you quit running from Grace? Not ready? OK. Grace is ready when you are

God, my shepherd!

I don’t need a thing.

You have bedded me down in lush meadows,

you find me quiet pools to drink from.

True to your word,

you let me catch my breath

and send me in the right direction.

Even when the way goes through

Death Valley,

I’m not afraid

when you walk at my side.

Your trusty shepherd’s crook

makes me feel secure.

You serve me a six-course dinner

right in front of my enemies.

You revive my drooping head;

my cup brims with blessing.

Your beauty and love chase after me

every day of my life.

I’m back home in the house of God

for the rest of my life.

Isn’t that a God you want to believe in? Just wondering. Because I know that I do.

thus spake,

me