Marlena Graves - The Way Up Is Down: Becoming Yourself by Forgetting Yourself

InterVarsity Press
P.O. Box 1400, Downers Grove, IL 60515-1426
ivpress.com

2020 by Marlena Graves

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from InterVarsity Press.

InterVarsity Press is the book-publishing division of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, a movement of students and faculty active on campus at hundreds of universities, colleges, and schools of nursing in the United States of America, and a member movement of the International Fellowship of Evangelical Students. For information about local and regional activities, visit intervarsity.org.

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version, NIV . Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com. The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.

While any stories in this book are true, some names and identifying information may have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.

Cover design and image composite: Cindy Kiple
Interior design: Jeanna Wiggins
Images: blue ocean painting: @Saemilee/Digital Vision Vectors/Getty Images

ISBN 978-0-8308-4675-7 (digital)

ISBN 978-0-8308-4674-0 (print)

This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo.

For mi familia:

those preceding me, my parents, siblings,

Shawn, Iliana, Valentina, and Isabella

Gods delight.

If I could become the servant of all, no lower place to fall.

I stood alone at our kitchen counter staring out the window at the menacing gray clouds. I read God the riot act: Lord, nothing is left! I am empty. Barren. Your people or the scoundrels who claim to beand you know I have more choice words for them than that in my heartare a cabal of arsonists who set fire to our entire Christian community. We did nothing wrong and yet you let them burn it down to the ground. And then let them off scot-free! Weve given up everything to follow you. For once could the meek inherit the earth instead of being trampled on?

It seems like God always has me carrying one cross or another.

Im putting one down just to pick another up.

I continued my litany of complaints: What glory is there in this? What more do you want from me? I have nothing left to give. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. On empty. Bone dry. Just change my name to Mara because with Naomi I am bitter.

A moment later I threw down the gauntlet: Is this how you treat your friends?

The question is one I stole from St. Teresa of vila. The story goes that Theresa was traveling with a band of priests and nuns. She was on her way to start a new convent. As the holy party crossed a stream, her donkey launched her into the air and she fell off. At that moment she heard the Lord say to her, That is how I treat my friends. Without skipping a beat, she retorted, That is why you have so few of them. Oh, how I can identify with her response! Another time she described life as a night spent at an uncomfortable inn. When I tried that line on God, telling him that my life too felt like an uncomfortable inn, the Lord quickly countered with, Well, at least you have somewhere to lay your head. And at least theres room at the inn for you. I was like, I see how you are.

I take my permission to speak freely to God from the Bible, especially the psalmists and the great cloud of witnesses throughout history. I spend my days and nights telling him what I thinkprayers, praises, laments, disgusts with evangelical and national politics, depressions, dreams, and inside jokes.

Sometimes we find ourselves in side-splitting laughter, especially when well-intentioned souls sing fervently but horribly off-key in church. When that happens, I lose my composure every single time. I laugh so hard that I shake, with tears running down my face. Then I have to exit my pew to flee to the restroom and regain my composure. My worst nightmare is when I am helping to lead the service and someone is singing loudly off-key. Beside myself, I look down as if I am praying or quietly contemplating what is being sung. Only I am not. I am trying not to die laughing and hoping not to make anyone feel bad or to distract the congregation, which, thankfully, has only happened once. But thats a story for another time.

On other occasions Im overcome by Gods holiness and lie flat on my faceprostrate, no wordsspeechless, for God is holy other. Mysterium tremendum.