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Issue 2

Random Recipients,

You may have noticed an addition and a subtraction. The addition is Andrea, but only for this edition. I hope you won't feel like this is being forced on you, Andrea. I'm sending this out because it's how I feel about life as of late and explains it all very well. I think it does, anyway. Oh, and Will's not getting this because I'm mailing it to him because it was originally intended for his eyes only. But I felt the rest of you would like it, and Andrea should know. I penned this last night, and this version is EXACTLY the same as what I wrote, only without some underlining, etc. Notes in square [] brackets are added today for your uplifted understanding.

May 19th, 2000

Life moves too quickly. Life moves too strangely. Life moves too much. Life moves. We get swept up in it, and still it moves along, careless of us. We get tossed around in the rushing torrent of life's river, being thrashed about recklessly, unaware of what is going on. And half the time all we know to cry out is "Why?!" And there are few answers. Some say, "God wills it," which brings no comfort. Others stare at you blankly. Still others fail to look beyond the superficial and give you foolish answers based on the here and now, and cause and effect. People are fools and bring little comfort. We try, but our efforts are wasted. We are all rushing in this wild, raging storm of life, and can barely comprehend what's happening to us, let alone others.

We look to other people too much. We think they will bring us some sort of comfort, some sort of human euphoria. And we give each other "adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, to comfort," as Friar Laurence says in Romeo and Juliet. We tell each other that all things work together for good, while cursing the foolish mistakes we have made anyway. We say that God has a greater plan than what we see here. We say that in time we will look back on our sorrow with joy. we say that God has something better in store for us; we just need to wait. And do think I do not agree. I merely question. I see the pain and feel the hurt. And our words that mean so well bring little compassion. If you will recall, I have been similarly hurt before and within recent memory [Random Receivers: ie. Katherine, and now Andrea]. And now, I was certain that I'd found that "something better". And I am disillusioned, hurt and left alone, crying in anguish and wailing, "Why?! Why?!" to the world. And the world tries to help. And the world is sincere. And the world loves the hurting [people]. But very little we foolish mortals do helps. We speak empty words and proclaim hypocritical philosophies (for we are all hypocritical in our folly and sin).

The only way these words and philosophies can help is in giving direction. The empty words and hypocritical philosophies are utterly meaningless in and of themselves. In that fact we find why the world is so wild, so insane. We find why everyone is left crying, "Why?!" in horrible anguish. The world needs something firm, something solid. It wants stability and craves and needs that stability more than anything else. The world may not admit it, but it's true. And some have found this stability, and everyone sees something different in them. They are the ones who defy sanity and utter the empty words and develop the hypocritical philosophy. These two creations of these stable philosophers are road signs and point towards something deeper, something more stable, more absolute, more True.

That stability is found in one Being. And that Being is God. God is good all the time. And is always there, at the corners of our minds, our hearts, our souls. And the empty words are spoken, forming hypocritical philosophies with SOME grain of truth. No man can deny that. Suddenly, as one of the other souls floats past screaming an answer to our pleas, we catch a glimpse of God, of something stabler. And we hit a sandbar or calm waters. There we find God. There we find stability. He smiles and shows us how He's in control and that it will be okay. And we are going on again, but more sure of ourselves, and more stable. And as we drift along, we see that we are no longer alone. There's God, right beside us. We wonder if He ever left, and see that He didn't. We just got caught up in the river, our egos, and our narcissism and couldn't see Him. But the moment another confused soul proclaimed the Truth, we found Him. And we are so happy we just want to laugh and cry and shout for joy all at once. And we just want to embrace God for His love and faithfulness and praise Him for being there.

And if we are to ask Him why, He might answer. Or He may tell us to wait and see. And if we accept that and cling on like a child to a promise, we will see that He is right. And we will thank Him for His far-sightedness, His love, His stability, and His insight. Most of all, we will praise Him for being Him. But until the moment of revelation comes, we hurt. Rich Mullins says, "it would not hurt any less even if it could be explained." He may be right. But I don't want to miss this for anything. And right now, I feel kind of like Mullins when he cries out:

I can't see how you're leading me unless you've led me here
Where I'm lost enough to let myself be led
And so, you've been here all along I guess
It's just your ways and you are just plain hard to get.

And if I'm quoting Rich Mullins, the most relevant is "Hold Me Jesus." And I'll cry out again and again. And I will be comforted. And I will question, and I will cry and weep. But I will be comforted, and there is no greater feeling than that.

MJJ Hoskin

Yes, Random Recipients (I think I called you "Receivers" earlier...), it does still hurt. I just look to God and the day it will stop hurting, though the pain does lessen every day. I just want desperately to have His answer to my cry, "Why?!"


Copyright 2001, Matthew Hoskin