Weird

Last night, I had a dream.  I think this dream will serve as part of the fantasy novel that I’ve wanted to write forever.  So, there’s that.  Unfortunately, this post isn’t about my nocturnal inspirations.

 

I received a weird text message today from my friend and erstwhile roommate Matt.  I haven’t spoken to Matt in quite some time, since before college ended.  Now, don’t get me wrong, Matt’s a very nice guy.  If I ever get married, I might ask him to be in the wedding.  I’m not sure he’d go for it, though, because it’s looking to be a non-traditional ceremony.

 

Anyway, the message said that I was in a dream he had, and he’s praying for me.  For those of you who don’t know, this is a flash from the past, from my Jesusy days.  Yes, I was an intolerant, world-in-black-and-white kind of guy who voted for George Bush.  I might’ve even voted for Bush back then if he hadn’t been running against the horrible alternative that was John Kerry.  Regardless, for whatever reason, I delighted in attending Wednesday night church services where the theme always seemed to be, “We need a little more Protestant guilt.”  Of course, it was all disguised quite cleverly as “encouragement” or “conviction,” but essentially what we were being spoon fed was guilt, plain and simple. 

 

Look, I’m down with Jesus.  I do pray to Him, after all.  But I really don’t know why I ever tried pursuing the shallow friendships that I had in the Christian organizations that I joined when I could’ve put more time toward making friends who didn’t like me in direct proportion to how willing I was to cram myself into a mold.  I thank God for the real friends I did make in college.  People I lived with, ate Wendy’s with, people who shared my Warcraft addictions and physically restrained me when I tried to go to bed too early on weeknights.  People with whom I still occasionally speak, even!  This text message was the most direct contact I’d had with any of the Jesus crowd since… April? Earlier?

 

So I guess I’m thankful for this textual slap-in-the-face.  Not a phone call and a quick catch-up conversation, though that would’ve actually been more considerate and not cost me $.15, but instead a quick 150 character message to let me know that I can still rejoin the fold, if I want to give up what makes me unique and center every conversation around how grubby my little soul is and how I’m trying to scour it clean with talk of how much Scripture I read on Saturday nights.  Thanks, but I’ll stick with actual interaction with actual people, not the crap you see satirized in Mandy Moore movies.