My Achy Breaky Heart

It was a cold morning. I got in my car with no heat. I was so cold. Was it me that was so cold, or did I feel something more? I was cold, like I was doing something wrong, like I was engaging in sin. Like the holy spirit was nowhere near me. Or was I just cold? Because it was November… and I had no heat in my car.

I arrived at my destination. I had my agenda in mind. “You can’t stay too long,” I thought to myself, “or you may regret something. Today Geoff it’s like a band-aid… you got to rip it right off.” We went into the bank, and clinically we signed the documents. We then drove to the courthouse where we dropped them off. As we walked back, the sun shone and I was a little warmer. It was a beautiful fall day. The type of fall day where the sun lights the trees on fire with their colors. Reds and yellows lit our way back to the car. When we got into the car we tried to navigate our feelings of loss, disenchantment, brokenness. But mainly we just kept it light.

My counselor said that I might want to do something symbolic. Something Pomp and circumstancey. So I wrote a poem the night before. I figured what’s more Pomp and circumstancey than reciting a poem.

In the cab of the car I held it together long enough to read this:

Ode to an Unfettered Horse by Geoffrey Neill

Ride Magnificent Ride!
Out goes the tide
as sunset outstretches out towards the night
and you, Magnificent, gallop far and wide to your hopes and dreams to be astride

I am tearful as I see you ride
For I recall when our worlds collide
You came upon my land untied
Escaping that which made you cry

I fell in love Magnificent mine
With your beauty, speed, brilliant design
I brought you in and let you dine
And I think you stayed because I was kind

And for a time this time did shine
And you basked within the morning light
And I cared for you and you did ride
Along my lands once upon a time

But then one morning I peered outside
You left during the night
I built no fence; I thought you liked the grazing lands that you abide
I felt I had to hold on tight to bring you back from your flight
So I took off into the night

And I found you on the mountainside your mane with burrs, but shining bright
Approaching you, stepping light, convincing you to run back to sight
It was hard but you did ride back to the lands that were mine
And we spent that time and that time did shine

But soon your dreams made you pine for other lands that were hard to find
And this dance we danced, times 8 or 9 and I soon saw that I did find
That every time you crossed the line, was a piece of me I could not find
I cried for times you’d reach my side, and you’d come again… and those times did shine

But there comes a time within this life, when the dance is dancing only strife
And the land has been cut with a serrated knife, and you, Magnificent, have no delight
So you lead the dance, and we do the shit(e) and I half-assed follow into the night
And we’re both tired of the same old plight, and here we are: a disillusioned sight

And I see…that we … began to hide
Within what we wanted on the inside
I with a fence, and you outside.
We are compelled today to do what’s right

So I swing my unreal fence aside, any chains from me please cast aside
And on this day, please move with pride into the sunset you always eyed

And so … I sigh.
Ride Magnificent Ride!
Out goes the tide
as sunset outstretches out towards the night
and you, Magnificent, gallop far and wide to your hopes and dreams to be astride

And with that we said some emotional words of encouragement for each other and I dropped her off. I had just got a divorce. And despite the waves of emotion that came upon me that day, the thing was…my heartbreak was that of years previous.

You see I was a Christian. A follower of Christ. Born again. Born into freedom. Connected with the living God. Living the life of a man full of the Holy Spirit. And that label seeped into my being, my soul… I wanted to one day to become a pastor a church. I felt called to the ministry. I loved the idea of doing good. Doing right. Doing the right thing. Having correct morals. Being aligned with the good side… the winning side. I loved it. And what’s not to love. You’re meeting nice people, helping the poor, singing songs, hearing inspiring messages, and most of all at peace with God.

It could be possible that this need to be good might have stemmed from the way I approached my family. I was the Son who took notes on his older sister. Who viewed carefully the mistakes she made. Saw the fits, the fights, and whatever else brought repercussions. I was someone who didn’t want those repercussions. Something in me wanted from the beginning to “live right” but more than that…I think the possible reality was that I wanted to live a “consequence free” life. I wasn’t really into “doing the right thing…” Seriously I could care less. But I was more interested in finding the path of least consequence. I didn’t want to rattle anyone’s cage. I wanted the path that is the best for me. But more importantly, I wanted the path that didn’t have shit attached to it. NO CONSEQUENCES.

And deep down there was absolutely nothing really wrong with that. I believe my heartbreak set in because I began to notice something else. Despite the fact that I had aligned myself with the living God, I had some assumptions that were not necessarily living up to my own expectations. “I was with the good guys now.” “Life should be good.” These were my assumptions. “I’m connected with Jesus now.” “He’s inside me… everything should be smooth sailing.” And unfortunately, as my doorway into Christianity opened into a hallway, I saw that things weren’t always peachy keen.

Oh sure I heard the occasional sermon that talked on “why bad things happened to good people.” I came from normal everyday life so I wasn’t expecting my conversion to all of the sudden right the wrongs of life, and ‘DING’ I would soon be a millionaire pastor that was well known everywhere and who’s shadow creates world peace as it descends upon the places it falls. I wasn’t living in a delusion. But for some reason I did believe that if I aligned myself with “the right way of living” I would move through…Consequence free! My dreams would be fulfilled, and I would have the life of a storybook.

So there I was… A good boy. And there was life. The twisted machine that grinds us all up and spits us out. And in midst of the difficulties that we call life, (which I’m sure to some of you I’m a complete pansy) somehow my theology neglected to tell me to stop smiling and take notice. Stop and take notice at my own heartbreak. My Christianity somehow allowed me to believe that my heartache, should be cured by quickly saying to the wrong doer “I forgive you”. I somehow believed my heartache should be placed to the side along with my self worth. I would think “I am a sinner, so I shouldn’t complain about the scraps I get.”

As difficulties arrived on my doorstep, I loaded them on my back and maintained a smile, because “I was a part of the good guys, and I was going to do the right thing” And as more hardships knocked on my door, I attempted to laugh them off, but somehow they continued to pile up on my back. When my wife left me the first time she told me I had changed. Which was true … “I was much more realistic” and maintained a smile while balancing the ever accumulating “very realistic” heartbreak on my back. And when the shit hit the fan and “She was done.” There… I collapsed on the ground, immobile by the mountains of glazed over, laughed over, very real heartbreak.

I don’t know about you today. Do you have something that is bothering you. Hurting you. Making you feel sub par. Are you an addict? Are you in survival mode? Are you simply stuffing your heartache into your pleasant façade? Do you have a great smile? When someone asks you a hard question do you laugh?

The psalmist writes:
PSALMS 23:4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, [a]
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

I believe this morning that God is with us in our circumstance. He is with us in our heartbreak. Now it could be possible that many of us somehow believe that heartbreak isn’t a part of the plan. But let me tell you. Unfortunately, heartbreak is a part of the plan. The more we begin to extend ourselves in love, (whether it is towards a spouse or someone we don’t even know) the more we up the ante when it comes to possible heartbreak. We completely increase our gambling odds. Now this might make some of you feel as if you would rather step onto the sidelines and let everyone pass by. But unfortunately or fortunately loving others is going to be the greatest of things you do in your life. So fear of heartbreak is actually something that stops us from living.

(I don’t want to champion heartbreak at all, but I do want us to see that this is a church. And not only a church but one with a mission. One to reach out to the Young and Disenfranchised of Portland. To reach the ones who have slipped through the cracks. This is a church of people that have been used as human mortar under the bodyweight of life. So… I hate to brake it to you… but it is more than likely that by you being here, you are dealing or have dealt with a fair amount of heartbreak in your life.)

Oscar Wilde writes that “Hearts are meant to be broken.” But many times we have no clue why our heart is breaking. The only way to understand and move through our own heartbreak is by being quiet and giving the hurt attention. As we heal through taking notice and leaning into the reasoning behind our broken heart, we begin to see that our hearts are meant to break open fully. We are meant to feel anguish, sadness, and mourn the loss of things in our life. To have only joy, happiness, and elation is to only live half the life God has allowed us to live. And to fear the other half of life is to live half your life in fear.

A poem written by Wendell Berry Illustrates what are process should be

I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
Around me like circles of water.
My tasks lie in their places
Where I left them, asleep like cattle…

Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its site.
What I fear in it leaves it,
And the fear of it leaves me
It sings, and I hear its song.

What we find as we listen to the songs of our heartbreak: tones of rage, fear, loneliness or longing. But as we listen to those tones you will see that they do not stay forever. Rage turns into sorrow; sorrow turns into tears; tears may fall a long time, but the sun comes out in the morning. A memory of old loss sings to us; our body shakes and relives the moment of loss; then the armoring around that loss gradually softens; and in midst of the song of tremendous grieving, the pain of the loss finally finds its release.

Are you hiding your heartbreak? Are you afraid of what may happen if you allow your sadness to bubble out. God doesn’t want us to be a people that stuff it. He doesn’t want us to have pretty smiles, perfect morals and hidden fucked up lives. When heartbreak comes knocking, God is asking us to open the door. You don’t have to be willing. God’s not asking you to be a sadist. But God is asking us to look. To take notice of our pain, lean into our broken hearts and go through that heartache so that we may not live half our lives in fear. So that we may truly forgive, or simply love again. God is with us. And you know what? We are with us. Today… if you are hurting, lean on to your friends and counselors. Hopefully they will pray with you, cry with you. Let you express yourself without worrying that you don’t have a smile on your face. It’s hard to move through the melancholy of our lives. But don’t be afraid, you have a God that will walk through these shadows with you. He knows that by addressing it, leaning into the reasons why, and morning the loss of whatever it is, that your heart will break all the way open, allowing for more love to enter your life. Today begin to look inward, tell the truth to yourself, however it looks, so that you may let your broken heart be mended.