Three Days

If I shed the irony, will everybody cheer me? -- Barenaked Ladies

Two weeks ago tonight, I was in Connecticut, chilling at my parents' place before going on a weekend known as Tres Dias. It started out as a movement withing the Catholic church in Spain, where it was known as Cursillo, and Tres Dias is the ecumenical version. It is, as the name suggests (for those of you who figured out the Spanish), a three-day weekend. During this time, talks are given, chapel services held, discussions are had, and lots of food is eaten.

I didn't know what I was in for. My mom had done a weekend a couple years ago and really enjoyed it, and I was happy to go along and hang out with her and do whatever came my way. That turned out to be a pretty useful attitude; one of the oft-repeated phrases of the weekend is, Don't anticipate, participate! It gets annoying. But it's good for people who have control issues, or who, like me, tend to be so analytical that they don't fully engage.

I had to ditch a lot of things to engage in the weekend experience. Ironic detachment was a biggie. Normally, when given a Christian setting that involves butterflies and teddy bears, I would have shrunk back in aesthetic snobbery. But that didn't seem like the best plan here. I decided instead to dive in and accept things for what they were, not for what I wished they were. And I ended up receiving a lot.

What I heard were women sharing real stories of what a big, loving God had done in their lives. What I saw were women being loved by God and drawing pictures for Him to put on His fridge, and God loving every minute of it. And because I allowed myself to stop analyzing constantly (and was even partially successful!), and because I allowed myself to genuinely appreciate others' ideas and experiences and communication styles, I was able to take in the love of God in whatever form it came. So many times over the weekend, I found myself enjoying Jesus' love for me. I wanted to spray-paint His name on a water tower. I wanted to write "Jesus hearts Holly" all over my math notebook.

I wasn't able to keep analysis at bay forever, and I thought about what I'd say on my blog when I returned to Boston. I wondered what overview I could give, what jokes and clever turns of phrase I could make. I wondered how I could explain my experience to people who don't know Jesus and perhaps don't want to (although if you do want to and aren't sure what to do, I can introduce you -- there's nothing I'd like better!). But I realized that, while God gave me my senses of humor and irony, He also gave me a capacity for genuine feeling and expression. So, without irony, without apology, and without qualification:

I want Jesus so much.
I love Jesus SO MUCH.