In Which I am a Spazz

I think I'm normal. I can behave in social situations. I hold down a job in a professional setting. I went to a couple of good schools, know which fork is for the salad, and rarely perform acts of hygiene in public.

Maybe I'm finally losing the bubble.

I went to dinner with a woman I don't know very well. I'm sitting at the table, listening to her describe her affection for the theologies of C.S. Lewis and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and I very nearly started hyperventilating. I acted like a fangirl. Breathless, giddy, it's a wonder I didn't just come out and ask her to be my BFF. "You like theology and hate crafts? OMG, me too!!!"

I'm a spazz.

I read a blog post this morning by Erin Lane. I'm an oversharer (obviously - you're on my blog) and post too many links to Facebook to ever be accused of being cool. I usually attempt to abide by the rules of social media decorum: not too many posts, a sparing use of exclamation points, ironic disengagement, never ever all caps. The post by Erin made me want to write, "ACK! THIS IS SO GOOD! You must read!! LOL! Soooo awesome! :-D"

Told you.

Last night I sat in a room with 23 college-age students. The vibe was especially chaotic. Hyper, chatty, loud. A room full of the special energy of the young and just-starting-out. It was all I could do not to take each one by the chin, hold their precious faces in my hands, and whisper all intense and creepy, "You delight me."

Weird.

Eagerness is lame. We who get our news from Jon Stewart know that skepticism, irony, sarcasm are cool. It weirds people out when we go around telling them how crazy we are about them. Laughing out loud with the sheer pleasure we get from another person's existence makes everyone feel awkward. And really, is there anything less cool than Facebook PDA?

Eagerness about God is lame too. Reasonable conversations about theology? Interesting. Contemplation and quiet meditation? Healthy. An awareness that we don't know all the answers? Wise. But enthusiasm? Delight? Dancing and fist-pumping? Kooky.

Barbara Brown Taylor says it like this, "We need the practice of incarnation, by which God saves the lives of those whose intellectual assent has turned as dry as dust, who have run frighteningly low on the bread of life, who are dying to know more God in their bodies. Not more about God. More God."

I've been studying the Love of God so intensely these last few months, I forgot to experience it. I forgot that I bring God pleasure - not just (like Erin said) when I'm good and beautiful and wise and rational and socially acceptable. But when I'm so desperately in love with the person in front of me that I get weird. When I'm so psyched that a connection between human beings is being made at this moment that I get awkward and touchy. When I cannot hide my enthusiasm and pretend to be disaffected. When I'm a spazz.

Erin reminded me of "the living, breathing, dancing God-on-the-move of Scriptures. This is the God who enamors me when I am burnt out by piety, bored sick by contemplation, and berating myself for complacency."

Not more about God. More God.