Mountain high to valley low

So I got back from Cursillo (outside of Huston Texas) almost a week ago, I’m still not sure what happened there or what I’m doing back in California. If (a very big if) Cursillo could be summed up I would do as such: Cursillo redefines love. Three words don’t do Cursillo justice so allow me to elaborate, expand, and unpack (my suitcase) for a moment.

In every form of love there is an understanding of the limits of love (with the exception of Christ’s) or at the very least a fear that love will not always be faithful. This is seen in the world around us as people are looking for some measure of love but find it in the worst places for the wrong reasons. Cursillo is three full days involving 24 hours each where Christ’s love is expressed, encountered, and cannot be avoided; and trying to resist only makes it worse. For perspective Cursillo is like filling shot glasses with a fire hose on full, and Cursillo doesn’t let you empty the glass at all. The result is that you have no choice but to give in and switch up to the swimming pool with the waterslide, and diving board and then have a cannonball contest in an attempt to empty the pool to keep up with the inflow. 72 hours of this, with surprises along the way effectively function as flash floods in filling up the pool.

You break, everyone does at some point. I broke, took less than 24 hrs too, and I’m very stubborn.

But enough about Seattle … Normally after something like a Cursillo weekend or camp weekend there is a time of decompressing that needs to happen. Decompression needs to happen at a slow rate or else bad things happen. Healthy Example: Your ears pop as you go up and down in elevation to rectify pressure. Unhealthy Example: Space shuttle loses compression. I could go in to details but Hollywood has done a few good examples, but that experience is the opposite of fun and is not recommended. I didn’t get this time, and got thrown right back into the middle of life. I can remember having a conversation about how do we as post-Cursillo people (who have the temporary thinking capability of mush) go back into the world when the world isn’t on the same page but more like in a different book in a different library. I’m still not sure I know, well I know the opportunities and some I intend to do. However, life was waiting for me on the trip home from Texas, with it’s own needs time involvement and challenges; All of them demanding.

So what did I do? Our transportation to the Huston airport (who was a staff member of Cursillo) gave me a simple wooden cross, on a simple leather band. I’m not much of a jewelry guy, nor do I like broadcasting that I am a Christian by use of bumper stickers, mostly because I don’t always represent my beliefs well; yet this cross stays around my neck. Since it is new I am very aware of it, and when I put on my school bag I can feel it, I can feel the edges and corners when I put pressure on it. It is very very tangible in reminding me of what I should represent, and what my actions should be. It has variable weight depending on my situation where it might just hang and then there are times when it weighs heavy and I can feel it against my body.

My life right now is in a slow motion upheaval. Everything is already up in the air it is just a matter of where things are going to fall, and if they are going to break, bounce up again, or come to rest. In these times I look for constants, like finding joy in worship, and sometimes constants present themselves in the form of a simple cross around a neck. Sometimes that variable weight is very comforting.