How to evangelize?

So.

Many things being processed (prayed over), right now. My lack(?) of discretion apparently yields quite readily to a good deal of rebuke and general confusion. Naturally.

Attempting to be open and honest seems so very trying. There are still moments, though, when I've gotten caught up in trying to respond "appropriately," rather than honestly. Twice, in the past three weeks, that's happened. I thank the Lord it's as obvious as it is, so as to receive total open admonition right then, on the spot.

The thing about part of that is...many times, there's just not an adequate vocabulary for some things...not an adequate sense of ability to construe in words what's only partially comprehended, even. Yet, with that...on the one hand, many would make the argument that it's best not to talk about things that aren't understood.. ..safer, gives less an appearance/act of foolishness (alt. interpretation of "answering before having heard a matter?," wherein "heard" has oft-given implication of understanding?). ...but, then, if I were to wait until I understood everything which is of such importance to me, I would never bear occasion to speak of anything in this life. Period.

Because even subjective experiences, interpreted, yield ultimately limited understandings of a matter. Period.

Far enough, making some sense?

Just, along those lines...there's this dire desire to be able to fully convey a circumstance in words adequate to yield an interpretation which bears vital tones of comprehension as unto truly relaying the overtones and undertones of the experience. To recreate, in word, with the intent and deep desire that the audience will genuinely, truly comprehend the core of the experience.

I'm still not sure it's entirely possible.

Except by the grace of the Lord. All things are possible for God.

The thing is...unless you comprehend the connotational tones which flavor your "audience's" interpretation of the very words you're using...as to be able to adequately construct to accommodate for the differences between those of your own, naturally occurring...

...no matter the same vocabulary, you're speaking different languages.

"Jargon" is a more blatant (i.e., more extreme) version of this. Vernacular varies wildly, is the point, without receiving much notice of so doing.

Except that certain subcultures do admittedly--consciously--recognize they have their own ways of comprehending the words they use as being distinct from general society's comprehension of those words. None come to mind, at present, but within the field of sociology that was the case. Certain terms used within the realm of sociology had meanings which completely deviated from anything remotely resembling the "standard English" meaning, within society at large.

Being able to control for all that within the scope of a single, passing, random conversation?

Meaningfully?

There are a few ways of approaching that particular.

One:

If the person you happen to be embarking into dialogue with is blessedly very akin to yourself in their own perspective of the world, they your vernacular and connotational comprehension/implication will generally be very similar. Say what you mean, the way you mean it. Pray it's understood in those terms.

2-a:

If the person you've been coincidentally, providentially engaged into conversation with happens to vary vastly from you, in terms of expressed means of self-concept (i.e., you're a banker on Wall Street who wears three piece suits as leisure-wear, and you're entering dialogue with someone in a bleach-stained black t-shirt who's wearing sandals in 20 degree Fahrenheit weather (i.e., me))...listen first. Keep listening. Ask questions which perhaps gradually yield toward a point particularly desired for discussion. Keep asking questions regarding that particular topic. Ask hypothetical questions regarding alternate perspectives on that particular topic. Continue asking those hypothetical questions, in terms of guiding into particular conclusions unto previously unconsidered thoughts on the matter. Continue asking questions. Pray the Lord guides comprehension on both your parts.

2-b:

Same scenario. Talk. Say what you mean, the way you mean it. Pray it's understood in those terms. If it's not, ask questions until some point of divergent connotational comprehension becomes realized. Find better terms as to relay the point more aptly.

Three:

Pray. Listen. Pray. When expectation of response comes, speak gently only what words allow for the Lord's peace to continue to reign in your heart. Repent when it's not so. Pray. Listen. Listen. Listen. Humbly ask the Lord to guide response, when that moment again comes. Pray to thank Him for doing so. Listen. Listen. Listen. When a moment again comes where expectation of response is obvious, continue to prayerfully, humbly respond in love to all which has been shared. Pray that all remains well.

...
..turns out, any given approach, as any of the above...can actually really be also summed as "method 3." Turns out...trying to think through the process yields anxiety, otherwise. And, turns out, that anxiety actually very effectively stunts conversation, altogether. Anxiety pre-empts compassionate, loving, heart-felt listening and response. Pretty much completely.

Try to talk to me in the middle of a crowd, any given day when I've been distracted from the Lord for a minute...and I'll give you a very accurate (exceedingly so) demonstration of quite how effectively anxiety yielded through attempt at conscious control of conversation truly stymies interaction. Completely. In fact, if you tell me your name, in such a scenario...except by the grace of the Lord, then three seconds thereafter, I won't be able to repeat it to you. And would have to exert effort to tell you my own full name or age (please let alone any other detail which is less close).

So, if there are only two wholly obvious options, as far as that sort goes...either attempt to proceed completely mindfully of everything you say, everything you hear, everything you think, so as to refrain from potentially offending and attempt to plan for making communication as effective as possible, and by the course of all that, engender sufficient anxiety as to prevent being able to even speak, let alone converse...or...trust in the Lord and just say what comes to mind, praying through the all, wholly involved in whatsoever is said as a matter of course for experiencing the love for your sister or brother speaking--loving the joy of seeing and hearing all which they are...and soaking in the wisdom or compassion or love or truth or what blessed good is there as themselves being genuinely shared...then so grateful to be able to likewise share of self, in love, glorifying the Lord for the experience and the joy...and being so very enriched through the experience of having fellowshipped with another made in God's image.

Which makes more sense?

...there was a spiritual means of going about number three, outside of the Lord. To varying degrees of success, experienced and honed over multiple years. But...abominable, ultimately. Damaging, wholly. Very detrimental to all concerned, really.

And something which comes to mind... ...my mom used to give me absolute grief over my lack of restraint in speaking, in my youth. Which is largely to do of the anxiety. I developed an expectation that my words should always be fully considered for how they would affect others, before being spoken. Obviously...I took that admonition to extremes. But that's kind of my modus operandi.

It's all I understand. Nothing else makes sense. Either go about sensibly adhering with utmost vehemence to one idea, or flagrantly devoted with unspoken ardor to the opposite.

All or none.

Even though, realistically, if I were indiscriminately, unreservedly, undiscerningly "all or none," I'd no longer have a vehicle, nor a computer, nor more than one pair of shoes and would presently be hitch-hiking the country with naught else but a Bible, a phone, and a small backpack, right now.

If I were truly, undiscerningly "all or none," I would have ordered/prepared "street preaching" sandwich boards and Gospel tracts four months ago and would have been out on the local streets so many times, already (rather than still praying about the all).

...because these are all baseline impulses. They are things which have been recurrent thoughts. Yet, even so much as I long with every ounce of my being to be "out doing something for the Lord" in terms of constantly talking to everyone I see about the Gospel of Christ...there is that which restrains.

Fear, for one. Abject terror at even the thought of doing such things, despite the yearning so to do.

Which is wherein...even here...writing here, is the same in sooooo many ways, on that count...

...I must pray. I must. And let the Lord guide. Trusting that He does know when and where and what, and that He will guide me into all which He wills. As He wills. According to His perfect will.

In whatsoever way. To whatever extent. In whatever capacity.

Fear won't immobilize me. Period. Merely, the presence of fear means that all the more care is given to remaining steadfast in the Lord. Because so long as I'm abiding in His love, fear doesn't touch me. Writing the things which are consciously recognized as being "intellectual anathema" without regard to reprisals or mockery...is the opposite of what comes naturally. So, it's not done thoughtlessly, either. Because one is as bad as the other.

To do something flagrantly, carelessly, just so as to do something, as a means of mocking fear...?
Absurd. Counter-productive. I lived that life long enough to have died from it many times, except for the grace of the Lord having spared me. The mercy He has exhibited in sparing me is utterly incomprehensible.

I used to be one of the dark things hiding in the shadows, in ways, once upon a time. ...even not having perhaps been as actively malicious as many whom I likely rubbed elbows with were, in actuality of their past deeds or current... ...then, still, I thrilled in the darkness. I thrilled in the recklessness. I thrilled in the thought of coming upon something unexpected which would require the impossible. Quietly, usually. Without remark. But, still. Wandering the darker streets of the French Quarter in the wee hours, alone? Just waiting.. ..expecting.. ..thrilled in the terror of so doing.

Completely reckless. Flagrant recklessness in defiance of the goodness of God's mercy, were I still to so do, without regard for what His will truly is.

So I will not rush in where fear is, just for the sake of scorning fear. I'm no longer a creature of fear, I'm no longer subject to it, so to allow it to still control me in any way?...even as it were driving me into defiance, rebellion against it which was ever much more reckless than subjecting myself to silence might have been?

So, no. Fear won't immobilize me. But neither will it prompt me into pre-emptive motion, for the sake of defiance. Perfect love casts out fear, y'all. For real. He does.

Abiding in Him...abiding in the Lord's love means that I can see the terror which arises, I can kind of taste it, but...it's almost as though it's not really even there. Unless I move outside of His love, which constrains.

Which, goodness...even doing so, I see and know there are so many things which are yet in need of crucifixion within me...so many tendencies, so many fleshly indulgences...conceit, pride, self-righteousness, just to name a few ongoing...

...but, yet, still. I'm His. So, He does live in me. And I live in Him.
And there's peace there. So long as I don't rush headlong into clinging to whatever anxiety or fear or worry or else which passingly tries to snare my attention away from gratitude unto the Lord and prayerful meditation on His goodness and supplication unto Him for direction, clarity, and help for whoso all there is... ...none of which is perfect, yet striving.

Just, there comes that choice, always. Remain in His peace, in His love. Just glory in His presence, as such. Or, when that errant thought arises, sparking a reminder of potential "concern"...to then begin to give into consideration on that point until anxiety blooms...and, then, when anxiety blooms, to cling to the fragrance of it as though it were sweet.

There is continually that choice.

Same as with words, it goes. Become anxious over what to say, desiring without restraint nor true discretion to just express what's felt, without regard to reception... or ...become anxious over what to say, yearning desperately to convey a very particular intent, regardless whether the time or place is right, regardless whether the words are truly apt... or ...put that anxiety to the side and allow that desperate yearning to share in the Lord's love with another, to glory in Him with another, to see another glorying in His love...allow that yearning to settle into the warmth of an abiding glow which warms and encourages and edifies into greater love...and, in that warmth, then relish the experience and let peace reign over what proceeds.

Even as perfection hasn't been attained, that's the general, and it's the aspiration. To rest evermore fully in His love and to share evermore fully the bounty of it with all.

An all consuming desire, that is.

There are so many who don't know Him, is part of this current fixation upon conversation.
Whatsoever it takes. Whatever it takes. No matter how unsuitable the vessel. No matter how far from blameless I could ever be, in the eyes of the world...just given all I've come through, for one thing...even as much as given how I am, even now in the Lord..
...I've been given so many warnings, these past many months. From attempts to terrify me against seeking the Lord (entailing attempted cajoling to a less ardent pursuit, as "safer"), to attacks upon my character for having forsaken the "virtues of this world" (Being "poor" is utterly taboo, apparently, especially if perceived as something you're in a position to "fix"...that, alone is enough to incite loathing...why are we disgusted by "poverty?"--the Lord wasn't..according to what I've read, at least. Secondarily, refusing to "save money" or "plan for the future" is enough to earn what actually seemed a rebuke from a fellow believer, recently...which still has me completely puzzled. Either I'm supposed to take no thought for the morrow, or I'm supposed to have a plan for the future--they're kind of mutually exclusive, when it comes down to brass tacks. I can't even "kind of" have a plan for the future, and yet refrain from having spent time and energy planning for a day which may never come. You want to know how well it does to plan for the future? ...set up plans for attending college within 8 months' time, get an apartment of your own for the very first time, buy a new vehicle, begin endeavoring all many hobbies, begin budgeting wisely, endeavor all the many good relationships, then lose it all, entirely, within a day's time, by matter of a course of the weather. ...wash, rinse, repeat. Same scenario, different details, over and over and over, for...oh, three, four, five years in a row...then, really...then, we'll talk about whether it's better to take the word of the Lord when He says to trust Him for tomorrow, not to plan for it nor even to talk about what "your" plans are...given that it's all in His hands, anyway, and anything else is a wholly futile delusion which He's allowed us to perpetuate unto a false, blasphemous sense of security as existent in this realm outside of HIM. So, no. Just...no. If the Lord wants to sit down with me one day and tell me all about what I'll be doing in five years, or even just give me enough a detail as to have me start making particular preparations--that's entirely a different matter. But, of my own volition? Yeah. No. Today is a bonus day, in my life. Even prior to dying into life in Christ....I died so many times, physically, without staying dead. Despite the medical impossibility. Even as on record, for the most violently impossible. So, every day since the first physical death has been bonus. Life is given by the grace of God, regardless.)
..but, yeah...mocked for that and admonished for it...outright attacked over the sheer futility thus absurdity of even contemplating trying to share the Gospel with anyone...and continually, continually, continually reminded by absolutely everyone that I'm just not good enough to do anything anyway...constantly consoled, constantly shown sympathy for my situation of being wholly inadequate, unequipped, and...I don't even know what it is people see in me, that they just offer up condolences and sympathize with me, openly without prompting, for how I'll never do anything except merely be present, silently on the Lord's behalf, as to offer a silent witness, and to then hope for eventually, maybe having a door be opened so as to be able to tell folks about what the Lord's done for me.

I mean. I don't understand that. I really don't. I can't comprehend how it is that people are just...just so blase about sharing testimony.

I am flummoxed. And have been for a while, really, just increasingly so as within the past day. How...how can people not talk about Him at absolutely every opportunity? How can people not pray for and just abjectly seek those such opportunities, with desperation awaiting them in every interaction, ofttimes? ...even as to the extent that, unless even that desperation is surrendered within such contexts as to the control of the Lord...that it stifles conversation even more wholly than anxiety?

I just don't understand that.

I can't comprehend it.

And it's largely why I just don't talk to people, these days. Because if I do talk to them, it's to love them, and loving them is sharing of the Lord...because, as with those who are in Christ, there's no greater joy than to fellowship in Him and in means and ways by which to draw nearer to Him in the presence and conversation with one who so knows Him!...and, as with those who don't know Him, thus have never experienced the incomprehensible magnitude of all which He is and does and of His encompassing love...just, being there, seeing them...loving them desperately, seeing and knowing the pain of separation from the Lord...there's just.. ..oh.

I just have to pray. I have to pray through it. Otherwise, is bad. Just...He guides me. He has to. Because I have no idea whatsoever what I am doing. I have NO IDEA what to say. Just...love compels. And fear.

Fear for them. And...I have yet to comprehend it entirely, but reading through the beginning of Ezekiel again today, after so many months...yet with the imagery never having entirely left my mind...I cannot abide the thought of their blood being required of me. Just...again...fear on that count.. ..I have to surrender it to His control. I have to surrender to Him. Because just saying everything or absolutely anything without having the utmost concern for the gravity of the situation seems ever so much as bad as not saying anything whatsoever, and just being present. And, yet, still...there are so many, many, many times wherein it's all I'm given to do is to just be present, and I'm learning how, despite that everything within me wants to just go and grab them and a Bible and plead desperately, for the sake not only of the joy of knowing Christ but of the desperation of anyone's situation who is not in Christ, given that we none know whether our next unhindered breath is our last such a one.

So, I'm very much concerned with the meaning of words. And I'm very much concerned with the opportunity to interact meaningfully, aptly, clearly, intelligibly, and persistently. And very much concerned with expressing all love and concern.

So long as the Lord is regarded foremost. First. Prior to all else.

There are just so many ways of thinking about it, in terms of that. And...it grates upon me to consider, despite that I wholly respect and honor that many are full of a call to silent, persistent witnessing...but, perhaps that is something many can do without qualms. Increasingly, though, the dire fragility of life besets my thoughts on those terms. Yes, Christianity is cliche. People have heard it all and perhaps seen none. That doesn't reduce the need for hearing, however. As the Lord wills, is all. Because no matter what we do, we are not the ones who call anyone to Christ. Just as whosoever the people directly to have shared the Gospel with each of us is yet not personally responsible for our salvation. Period.

Christ is all. Jesus Christ is all. The Father draws us to Him, and then we can be changed. The Holy Spirit convicts of sin. And shows us Christ.

He lives in those who are His. So, yeah, folks can potentially see Him in us. If the Lord wills they do so.

Because no matter what we do, no matter how faultless we are... NONE OF THAT ...matters. In terms of salvation, in terms of the fruits of our own righteousness.
NOT to say that we are to knowingly offend people, no. But, to refrain from going about in ways which flagrantly are expected to yield offense... ...still, doesn't guarantee that folks won't be offended.

In fact, folks have a tendency to become irate in rejection of even the presence of the Lord. At the most random times. Without any obvious provocation. It just happens.

Even as, just as unexpectedly, sometimes there comes an absolutely calm upon folks wherein spontaneous peace yields to seeming joy.

So, how are you going to control for what the Lord is going to do through you?

I'm just...terrified. Of talking about the Lord with folks...who sometimes become irate...and other times just end up listening in total silence. Every bit as much as I'm terrified for them and for me, should I not talk to them, when there is that moment and there are peace-driven words forthcoming.

Just...I will do as the Lord wills. Even as, sometimes...again, sometimes there's that compulsion to just declare His name in glory and call for repentance, as the Kingdom of God is at-hand...which has thus far been restrained.. ..there, still, have been many moments wherein I've been able to talk of folks calmly...hopefully rationally...about the Lord. At 2-3am in a local hospital, as they approached me...then admonishing them of the need to seek, to pray, to rejoice always...which, immediately after, I felt totally foolish for having been so completely animated despite not having any idea where things were going or coming from.. ..to conversations which yielded to on-the-spot prayer.. ..to moments blessedly given by the Lord as to share the hope found in Him to those expressing abject poverty of spirit unto despondency.. ..and I never know when, or where, or how, or who.

Although the when is always preferably now. ..the where is always preferably here. ..the how is always preferably to the glory of God, unto salvation and edification in Christ. ..and the who is always you. Which...even though I may not have met you before, it doesn't matter. I thank the Lord so much to be able to see such goodness, such hope for you. He allows me insights, many times. Into the pain. Into the anxiety. Into the fear and uncertainty. And I've labored under those things, too. They used to control my life. Completely. And I ache to see it in another. Even so much as I rejoice to see the hope for you, in Christ. Even so much as I ache that you feel His love, so as to not be yet lonely or despairing. Even so much as I yearn to share in the joy of discussing Him, in love-filled compassion with all our foibles and faults cast aside in favor of relishing a shared glimpse of His perfection and love for us.

And everyone is so beautiful. As cliche as that sounds. Still. It's just so strange, sometimes, so almost disconcerting...to see the forest and the trees. Seeing the majesty of the group, and yet the luster of the leaves on every one tree...relishing the crackling beauty which constitutes bark patterned upon, even as the flowing tower of asymmetry yet beget beauty of space remarks in branches arced.

Only Christ has engendered such love, yet so paltry in all the scheme, in a heart once dead even this year past. Just to share that, though...such a longing to do so..

Never knowing when. But always hoping.
Never knowing how. But always praying.
Never expecting who. But always looking.
And wondering where to go, where next.

Just, always here...wherever that happens to be.

I ask the Lord a lot about who I'm supposed to be. I'm not who I was, entirely at all. Even as there are still things which remain. Character traits. I ask Him a lot...regarding whether I shouldn't be who I am, really. Whether I should try to be calmer, when excited...whether I should try not to talk, when there are things needing said...whether I should just...not be me, any more, but just someone else. Someone who never gets confused, and never goes off on tangents, and who never gets so wrapped up in just the thought of possibility that the joy of exultation overwhelms all else...someone who's always calm and who never says the wrong thing...someone who always talks just enough, but never says too much...someone who doesn't need Him so much, just to make it through the day...just to make it through an hour...just to make it through the room...and across the page. Whether maybe I should be someone who doesn't feel it necessary to ask Him always to be able to save everyone...someone who doesn't beg Him to let them speak about Him to others, then who has to lean on Him in abject despair at the thought of not saying the right words when the opportunity is allowed...and who always wonders, somewhat humiliated afterward, whether there was something more He would've preferred I said but which I just didn't discern...who always asks, afterwards, that He please just help because nothing in me except Him can do anything anyway. I always ask Him whether it would be better for me just not to be concerned, given that apparently everything is stacked against me, and given that I'm a terrible candidate for anything, let along for sharing the Gospel...apparently. I'm the wrong gender, I'm too old, my life has been too wasted, my sins were too vastly abominable, I'd been too blasphemous, I'm still too faulty, I don't know enough, I don't know anything, I have no skill, I lack finesse, I'm too quiet, I say the wrong things, my work history is all over the place, I have a bad back, a bum knee, multiple cysts on my brain, persistent vertigo, a couple of bad teeth, I haven't been working in favor of interjecting myself in others lives in an attempt to help which has ofttimes yielded frustration and mockery, I'd always been irresponsible with money and time, I was a fornicator for years, I was involved in witchcraft, I was a heavy drinker, a smoker, and encouraged the same in others, I'd attempted suicide multiple times and been diagnosed bipolar after years of treatment for clinical/severe depression, my family is fraught with suicide and suicidal tendencies and is completely distended and largely dysfunctional, I've never been married despite my age, I've never had children despite my age, and I don't want either of those things, even as I don't know what to do on any count, so in all ways which apparently matter, I'm a complete loser, according to the world.

But the Lord loved me enough to spare my life, many times over. He loved me enough to suffer through all such temptations as I've ever or will ever know...even as He never yielded to temptation, but died sinless under God's wrath for me, so that I can live in Him...in His resurrection...in His righteousness. He loved me enough for all that.

But according to the world that doesn't matter. According to the world, though...there's no such thing as absolute truth. According to the Lord...Jesus is that truth. And His never fails.

So, yeah. There are still so many things going on, right now. Maybe someday there'll be given time and opportunity to share of them, but probably not. Certain things are just...sullied by sharing without utmost sincerity assured of the passage, given the nature of all. So as not to disrespect the sanctity.

Just...certain things. Particular things.

The Gospel, though...it must be proclaimed. Trusting in Him as to guide. Trusting in Him.
There's nothing else.
For which gratitude is boundless.

People have been calling me weird for as long as I've ever acted on realization of how much more fulfilling and interesting it is to appreciate the beauty of rocks than it is to gossip (literally, that was the first time...looking back, he must have made a special trip across the playground just to find out what I was doing as to even come to that conclusion). Since that point, every single person (except one) who's ever spent time with me for any duration has termed me some variation upon that theme (ranging from bizarre to wretched, and all sorts in between). Just...there's always been "method to my madness," only it's apparently never quite aligned with what folks either anticipate, expect, or comprehend...and, apparently, being converted hasn't altered that baseline course of operations, except as to completely alter the focus of the all and replace the basic operating principles. Rather than chaos, now order according to the Lord. Just...still, according to the same process, in ways.

If that makes any sense.

Just...I'm tired of beating myself up over not being who everyone thinks I should be. That whole bumper sticker "the beatings will continue until morale improves?" ...yeah. Not so much. Corporal punishment, no matter how severe, never really altered who I was, beyond breaking my heart and crushing my spirit. So, why would it do differently to perpetuate that same along the mental/emotional line, now? So, I just have to give it to the Lord. He'll keep me from those dire places I once was caught and trapped and devastated unto injurious tendency. Just as He'll keep me together, in the face of people who disapprove of how I am, even now. I just...I have to seek the Lord. That's everything. That's all there is. Period.

Everything else is secondary. ...and, many things just aren't even on the radar anymore.
At all.

And I don't want them back.

I don't want movies.

I don't want television.

I don't want concerts.

I don't want board games.

I don't want shopping.

Honestly, if I never had to look at another article of money again in my life, I would be utterly humbled into the most excessive gratitude. Just enough water and food to survive, means unto translocution (whether owned, rented, hiked, or graciously appropriated for a moment), a place safe to sleep, and...yeah, whatsoever else the Lord allowed need for. Ideally, is all. Maybe a cave?

I just...I want to know Christ better.

And I want to help others know Him better, too.

I want to do whatsoever can be done, in whatever way.

Even knowing nothing I do is worth anything, except that He condescend as to manifest through such feeble, ill-delivered attempts.

Enough, for now.

He is all.

That's all.