Bilateral

I know I've been posting a lot about progression and regression in growth in my life. Sorry that I'm not really sorry. After all, it is kind of an essential subject in the life of pretty much anyone, and as such, it's bound to be a major theme in this deeply introspective account of growing in faith and maturity. Redundancy ought to stress the importance of the matter.

Anyway, one thing I've noticed about my actions has been a vacillation between what I'll simplify as "good" and "bad" behaviors. Most of the time there doesn't seem to be much of a middle ground. I have what seem like bipolar mood swings, so to speak, of whether I'm living a Godly life or a worldly life. I won't go into the questions that are raised in my mind about the implications of the latter instances, regarding my faith, belief, and salvation. That's another post, for another time.

What I will describe is the frustration accompanying these tendencies. It's progress, but it's always so difficult to see, with all these unnerving, seemingly uncontrollable instances of backslide. In fact, it's often the case that, even in the heat of a negative moment, I am aware of the problem, but I'm unable to discern the cause, so I can't find a solution. And simply not behaving a certain way, for some reason, just doesn't work. Losing your temper, for instance, happens just like that. You lose it on accident. It's like spilling something and making a mess. Frustrating for everyone involved, especially the one who caused it.

I guess a better analogy would be wetting the bed. This is something most adults don't have to deal with anymore, because we outgrew it when we were young children. But recall, if you will, the frustration you may have experienced after such an accident. You'd made such great progress, but along came this one incident that broke it all. Then it's back to square one. Not really, but that's what it feels like.

Emotional and spiritual maturity work the same way. You go for a while, you seem to be doing well, and then you stumble. That's discouraging, even amid all the progress. More so though, because not everyone experiences the same trials, so not everyone understands the struggle. To some, it is a simple question not doing something, because they never had to deal with it in the first place. This adds a factor of solitude, which makes any difficult task even more so.

What I have to constantly remind myself is that growing and maturing do take time and effort, and they will always be marked with failure along the way. The real trick is internalizing those reminders in my darker moments.

Derelict

I've been considering the condition of my life again lately. I know, I know. Introspection is unhealthy for me. But it's kinda hard not to at this point. When things flatline at mediocre most of the time, and the only other landscape seems to be an assortment of valleys, it's hard to not wonder what it is that's causing it.

So at this point, I ask the obligatory question: what gives? Over the past year, I've stretched and strived for things in ways I hadn't in years. My patience and endurance have been tested on multiple instances, and for a range of time spans, many overlapping with one another. I've made mistakes and paid dearly for them, but learned from them as well. And at times I've done everything I could have done right, and still paid dearly for the actions of others.

So once again, it seems like my decisions have little to no impact on any given outcome. My positive, productive actions go unnoticed or are ineffective most of the time, while my lethargic inactions and mistakes stick out like hangnails and tend to have devastating consequences. My opinions are largely either unheard or disregarded, and so I've returned to questioning why I bother giving them voice.

What am I still doing wrong? I have worked so hard at turning my life toward the joyful, the productive, the good, yet it feels like the majority of that effort has been squandered. My circumstances in life go unchanged, despite valiant efforts to alter them. I can still acknowledge that, given where my life has been and the direction it traveled for so long, it will take time and effort to fix it, but when can I hope for that? Shouldn't I have seen some fruits of my labor by now?

And I know, from a Biblical standpoint, I shouldn't be concerned about the success of the wicked, and why I'm not flourishing when they are. But what about for the righteous? Not to compare myself and my situation to those of other people too much, but if other people are thriving and I'm not, to me that says something about my decisions. Specifically, that I'm doing something wrong.

What I need is for someone to look into my life and tell me what I need to change, and perhaps to help me change it. I need guidance from someone who knows what is right, but who also knows me and my circumstances. I need a mentor.

Laying the Demon to Rest

Or, "This Pain, in Retrospect".

It bothers me that I still become extremely depressed about what seems fairly innocuous, or about nothing at all. But even I have to acknowledge the fact that the sudden plunge into the darkness a couple of days ago was nowhere near as bad as it has been in the past, and that it also didn't last as long. I also have to remind myself of the principle that, even though changes are being made in my life, changes that will work toward long-term healing, with a history like mine it will be far from an overnight process.

Ultimately, I have to see this condition as a thorn in my flesh, constantly reminding me to trust God first, and to not put so much stock in the mercurial things of this world. I know and believe He will see me though this; I just have to actively trust Him.

As far as my selfishness, pride, and perceived need for recognition are concerned, I could probably write a book. I know this is part of the human condition, and ultimately what separates us from God. Selfishness is the root of all sin, and the true opposite of love. When our pride gets involved, we lose our ability to be truly loving, because our every thought and action becomes egocentric.

I'll discontinue there, because there's too much to be said about human pride.

My prayer, now and always, is that I can be consistently able to trust God, and that He will reveal Himself and humble me.

This Pain

There has been a good while of legitimate peace and joy in my life lately; genuine contentment with many things, and confidence in the improving conditions of others. When that's my condition, it's easy to quickly forget what suffering feels like.

It's always a shock, coming down from an emotional and spiritual high. Especially when you don't fully understand the reason. Just a sudden pang of hopelessness that takes root in an irrational perceived futility in everything good and encouraging that has happened. It's like I suddenly, as if for the first time, realized that the positive changes I've made in my life are actually meaningless, because my efforts alone are worthless.

It's then that I'm forced to question my reasons behind making the changes in the first place. Did I do these things for God's glory? Or did I only selfishly seek the rewards I believed would follow when the changes were made? Can my selfish heart really ever change, or will my eyes always be blinded by superficialities to what is truly beautiful?

Today I accepted the weight and responsibility of my role. I recognized why this loneliness is always looming. My heart is that of a protector. It's within my nature to take care and shepherd those I consider my own. By the very nature of it, this devotion is a lonely one. It demands that I make sacrifices of my own comfort and kinship, in the interest of making sure that those I love are kept safe and happy. And while this might superficially seem like a nice gesture, I feel like the profundity of the responsibility and sacrifice go largely unnoticed.

So why does that depress me?

The answer is pretty simple: I am selfish. I pridefully want others to notice what I am doing for them and be grateful. I want them to care for me the way I care for them. Yet, no matter what I do, it's never enough. No words, attitudes, mannerisms, or actions on my part can make anyone love me. Hence, feelings of friendship and affection seem completely arbitrary. That means I could do everything right and still lose.

But is God pleased with me? That should be my primary concern, shouldn't it? But why would He be pleased with me if my aims are all for selfish, worldly gain? I blaspheme Him every day through my filthy, white-washed, faux-righteous behaviors. Even the thought of it disgusts me. To the very core of me, I am a monster. So I beg Him for the forgiveness I so don't deserve, and He gives it relentlessly. I should be humbled, but in truth I mostly just feel ashamed.

This post is an incoherent mess, and it probably doesn't make any damn sense. Such is the nature of emotions.

Up & Up

When I look at my life, it's well within my nature and tendency to compare it to those of other people. I'll then ask myself questions like, "Why is this person so much better at this thing than I am?" and, "Why don't I fit in like that person?" and most commonly, "Why can't I just be happy, like all these people?" Now, let's just keep off the subject of why I shouldn't be comparing myself to other people. That's a huge problem, in fact one of my biggest, but that's not the point of this post.

As I've established in a previous post, I've allowed my life to become what it is over a long period of time, and it will take some time and effort on my part for it to make a comeback. Apart from not being too hard on myself for when I screw up, I need to be taking baby steps, not trying to fix everything all at once.

For a more Biblical perspective, I like to compare the situation to the Parable of the Talents. Specifically in the verses where it speaks of the rewards for the servants who invested. They were given small amounts to work with, and they put those amounts to work. In the end, they were awarded more to work with in the future.

I think that all things sort of work out that way. When you work with what you're given, you will see a return and then be awarded more. In my case, it seems to directly apply to responsibilities and personal potential. For years I've had responsibilities that I've neglected, or at best scraped by on bare minimum. I've also not used my abilities to their full potential, ergo they have not been stretched. As a result, no additional abilities or responsibilities have been awarded. In fact, like the lazy servant, my unused assets have, in a sense, atrophied. Now I have to work harder to gain back what I lost.

So what's the solution? It's simple: start small. Last post I mused on my lack of motivation and difficulty doing even the most basic of things. But I know that if I simply make a decision to do these mundane tasks, do them repeatedly, make a habit of doing them, my efforts will be rewarded. Those tasks will become easier over time, and I'll find myself more inspired to take on greater things.

Maintain Consciousness

Lately I've had the most trouble getting motivated. School, work, church, social life, even hobbies. In fact, I think this problem has been building up, making it increasingly difficult to accomplish anything.

I've never been much good at motivating myself. Don't know why, I just have trouble committing myself to a task and seeing it through to the end. That's been my whole life, as far as I can remember. As a result, efforts have failed, opportunities have been missed, and potentials have remained untapped. It's not that I've lacked the ability to do anything. Just, when faced with actually doing it, I always lose interest or momentum.

Now it's different though. Intensified. Tasks as simple as cleaning up my apartment, washing the dishes, or going grocery shopping seem impossibly undesirable, and I simply cannot motivate myself to do them. For home life, that's an inconvenience. But when it comes to things like school and work, it's a hazard with huge potential for destruction.

I know the general time frame that this intensification of sloth began. Somewhere between two major car-related incidents that occurred earlier this year. But those are material issues, basically resolved. My debt has (I think) been settled, I have a car to drive, and I have accepted the loss of both previous vehicles. All said and done, they're just things. Moreover, those are things that don't directly have anything at all to do with motivation.

But there's something else about it that has damaged me on a deeper level. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but it definitely has more to do with the events themselves than the actual things involved. Like these occurrences have hurt me on a spiritual level.

I'm trying to analyze the feelings I've had about those events, in an effort to diagnose the problem and formulate a solution. But based on an even greater lack of motivation that's occurred within the past couple of days, there might be other things involved; things that might be unrelated to those events.

Farsighted

There are times I look at my life and wonder how I ever let it get to where it is. Most of the time I just try to press on, living day by day, hour by hour, focusing on the tasks at hand. But anytime I stop to look at what it is on the whole at the moment, where it's been, where it's going, it's disheartening. My life isn't anything like what I want it to be. From my perspective, it's a hopeless ruin with no possibility of ever being anything good.

That's my pessimistic nature talking, though. In fact, even looking at life through the scope of "what it looks like to me right now" is pretty bleak. Our view is so limited, it's easy to get caught up in temporary worries. So my life appears to be pure chaos, and I have no idea where it's going or what I should be doing about it. But really, does anyone ever know anything about their life for sure? Relying on circumstances being what they should be isn't Godly living. Relying on God's provision is.

I know this God that takes all things and makes them good in the most unlikely of ways. How we don't understand, can't comprehend, how beautiful something will be until we're looking back on it, seeing all the toil and suffering poured out on it. And what better way to glorify Him? That is my one hope, through all of this: that God, the Great Physician and Supreme Artist, can heal my broken heart and shattered life, and make this wreckage into something uniquely beautiful.

The Slide

One of the frustrating things about progress is the inevitable regression. There's nothing that knocks you off of an emotional high from successfully improving your habits quite like stepping back into your old ways. And one thing I've noticed with it is that once you've done it one time, it becomes much easier to do it again.

This whole one step forward, two steps back thing that happens entirely too often is disheartening, to say the least. I find myself constantly coming down on myself every time I screw up and slip back to my old ways. The thing that frustrates me about it is pretty much everything. I know the problem as it's happening, and I feel powerless to stop it. Then, once I'm through the phase, I remember that, while there isn't anything that makes backsliding okay, it is at least understandable, and even to be expected, to an extent. Yet, that doesn't make me feel better about it. I still feel guilty, ashamed, and irritated with myself, despite the normalcy of regression and the knowledge that I'm already forgiven.

Times like this, I try to remind myself of the progress I've made in this respect, and that the internal adversity is to be expected, and that I need to be patient and gracious with myself. Most importantly, I need to remember and be comforted by the fact that no sin can ever separate me from God's love and forgiveness. It's just so hard for me, because I have so much trouble forgiving myself, I have trouble imagining anyone else being able to do so, even the Creator of everything, who knows me better than I know myself.

The Way Home

I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again. This has been a particularly difficult year for me. There have been many unfortunate events, some of which will never get the resolution I would have originally wanted. But I've already come to terms with them, for the most part, and I recognize that even the issues that haven't been resolved are in God's hands. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it, doesn't mean I don't still hold out hope. But when I'm in my right state of mind, I can endure and live with it.

Something I just began to realize, though, is that the stresses of recent months are summed up by more than just the crap that's happened since my spiritual journey back to Christ. These other factors aren't events, so much as accumulations of behavior patterns that have been present for varying periods of time.

Let's start with the most recent: stagnation. I'm not talking about just my faith here, but my life in general. For about six years I bummed around, waiting. Waiting for what, I don't know. Waiting for something to happen. An opportunity, a relationship, a push in the right direction... whatever. Instead of using the God-given empowerment to affect my life, I sat on my hands and waited for something and/or nothing to happen. Nothing happened for most of that time. Then something did. Then a few more somethings, some happy, some sad. But the combination of these events was finally enough to kick my complacent life into motion.

Now we'll look at something a bit further back. Over half my life ago, I began a phase of rebellion. Against what? Again, who really knows? I was bitter about [something], because [reasons]. So I took it out on pretty much everything. My peers, my teachers, my parents, and most truly myself. I raged against the machine, a rebel without a cause and without a clue. Somehow this lifestyle appealed to me. As a result, my grades, study habits, and work ethic in general all suffered pretty heavily. They never really recovered, and that's ultimately how I ended up in the aforementioned stagnant phase.

Finally, let's talk about the deep-seated, child issues. This is harder to define. I've been a pretty subdued, depressive person for as long as I can remember. This proclivity stands in stark contrast with the way my entire immediate family is, and that I know of, it isn't caused by any particularly traumatizing events from my distant past. It just seems to be a natural condition for me, and one that I've never fully understood. Rest assured, I've spent countless hours dwelling on it throughout my life. It's only recently that I've decided to approach professional help with an open mind. Up until now, I've believed I could handle it all on my own, and I've done so with minimal success. But really, why do that when there's help available? How much my pride and pessimism have gotten in the way of healing for all these years. But all regrets aside, I can even look back and recognize this problem as a possible, at least partial cause for my rebellious streak.

So what's so difficult about these things now, all of a sudden? Because most certainly they're more than the sum of what they are.

I think that, because I've had wiser people speaking into my life, and my pride has broken for some key moments of their wisdom, I finally find myself in a position to start changing these behaviors. But that's just what it is: a start. We're looking at six years of complacency, fourteen years of rebellion, and twenty-six years of depression, all of which I'm trying to reverse now. God is and has been doing amazing things with my life, and the change in these behaviors is among them. But that doesn't mean it's easy at all. He is growing me and maturing me, and that's a drawn out and painful process. Failure and backsliding are to be expected along the way, and the hardest thing in the world for me is to show myself grace through all this.

I hope and pray that my recognition of the issues at hand will remind me not only of my need to be patient with myself, but also of the progress we have made, as encouragement to press on.

The Shattered Fortress

What can I say? God answers prayer.

It's amazing to me. God has been faithful, even though I have often not. I have worried and stressed, even been angry at Him for not answering in my timing or in my way. Yet the answers come, and in ways much better than I'd imagined.

Has my condition changed? Yes, it has, and it has been and will be an enormous blessing. My overwhelming financial troubles have been lifted from me. Of this I became aware last week. Praise God! But now, even more profoundly, my outlook is beginning to change. This, too, was something I could not have done myself. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel empowered to make changes in my life and in the environment around me. I have a newfound inspiration to have a positive impact.

This radical change leads me cognitively to the prayer to which I gave voice only half a day ago. I long for a passion for God. But for a long time, I've been drained of passion for anything at all. Now, He has instilled in me a passion for hard work and stewardship. I believe this passion is a testament to His undying love for me; evidence that He is worthy of my love, worship, and praise.

I pray that I never forget this joy at how faithful He is.

Wander

A huge part of my return to faith has been dwelling on the conditions of it. Sort of a "where I am, where I've been, and where I'm going" type of analysis. I think things like that are important because we kind of need to take a step back and examine the big picture and all the principles therein. That, and as anyone who's spent time with me knows, I tend to over-analyze things by nature. Well, among the things that I've thought to death on this subject is what it was that caused me to fall away from my faith in the first place.

I've come up with a variety of possible reasons for this. Things like bad experiences with the church, or maybe exclusion from a clique or the "in-crowd" of a youth group, or even mild persecution from the world. But the truth of the matter is, while these things have definitely occurred to an extent (I never did fit in that well anyway), they're hardly prevalent enough to deter me from an environment and lifestyle that I truly want and believe in. Realizing this, I also had to reach the terms that my "reasons" weren't actually reasons at all, so much as arbitrary excuses based on conjecture, which acted as placeholders while I figured out where the problems really were. Because of that, I was never completely comfortable with my rationale. I would just subconsciously use it and put it out of my mind so that I could focus on other things.

It wasn't until recently that the pieces started to fall into place and finally make some degree of sense. The realization came from a combination of a couple of factors. One was reading through Crazy Love, specifically a large section about actually loving God. The other was an accumulation of observations I've made about my peers and role models in my Christian faith, specifically regarding their behaviors and mannerisms resulting from their apparent joy and peace, which are the fruits of their deep relationships with God. So what, then, is the ultimate reason that I fell away? What was it that I always lacked?

Passion.

I didn't have a passion for Christ. I didn't love God. I wasn't interested in the things that He honors. All my focus was (and in some sense, still has been) based around selfish, worldly motives. The frustrating part about all that? I didn't even know. I wasn't aware of what I needed and lacked. My deceptions were rooted so deep that I had myself thoroughly convinced that my heart was in the right place, when it wasn't. As a result, it's no wonder my faith, religion, and relationship with God were unfulfilling.

Again, this is something that is not entirely surprising. In fact, it stands to reason perfectly. I just never fully connected the dots. Now that a picture is beginning to form, I'm left reflecting on a more definite question: how do I change that?

Somewhere in the passages of Crazy Love, Francis Chan acknowledged this condition, and he advised prayer for a change in it. So here is my prayer, put simply: that I deepen my love for God and my passion for the things that He loves. This is one thing for which I can honestly and unreservedly say that I am desperate. If you're reading this, please pray this for me, as well.

Enslaved to the Mind

The most destructive force in my life is myself. This is indisputable, and it always has been. But I've never really understood why that is. What is it about my behavior that is so self-destructive? My emotions leave me feeling powerless to change myself for the better, because so often they overwhelm me, drowning out any logic and objectivity, paralyzing me, often preventing me from even starting toward my goals, let alone attaining them. So often I feel like I need help from the outside. But the extent of my damage is too much. I don't think there's a soul alive that has the patience to put up with me and all of my pent up frustration, depression, and self-loathing.

Today confirmed that my greatest downfall is my defeatist attitude. It comes as no surprise, of course. It's basically what my parents have told me for my entire life. It affects my own mentality, as well as other people's perceptions of me, damaging both my relationships and my ability to succeed.

So now I'm left with a question. How do I change that? How do I develop a more optimistic outlook, while remaining realistic? How do I acknowledge this marred track record of failure and unexplained adversity, look in the mirror, and honestly tell myself that I can lead a joyful, successful life? How do I turn around two and a half decades of pessimism? How do I make myself believe something I've always wanted to believe, but never been able to?

I know God can heal me. But will He? I've begged and prayed, longing for His peace and joy, for emotional wholeness. Of all the things I know I want in life, I know that this is at the core. What do I have to do to live that way?

The Answer Lies Within

I think one of the most frustrating things about the past year has involved my ideas of what I need to actually be doing, regarding both my faith and my decisions in life. What I've heard is to approach every important decision prayerfully. Good advice, to be sure. But what if there is no immediate answer, or I'm uncertain of what God is telling me, versus what I'm internally telling myself? (That last part is particularly discouraging, because ideally we should recognize God's voice. So when I don't, I begin to question myself. But that's a different matter.)

What I've noticed in the past year is that my behavior has changed. This is generally good, because before my return to faith, my behavior pretty much sucked. But in this case, I might have overcompensated with something. Something with regards to faith and action. It's become my tendency to pray about the things that are on my heart and mind. That's good too, but I've come to the realization that it's just not enough.

I grew up with the notion that God doesn't just work in miracles. That is to say, He's not just some Santa-genie-fairygodfather type figure, here to grant our every wish as long as we believe. He's going to do for us what will ultimately lift us up to glorify Him. In that light, when we pray over a situation and ask for something, sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes it's no. But I think more often than we realize, the answer is in the form of a decision that has to be made by us.

Don't get me wrong; I know and believe that God does sometimes intervene in situations on a supernatural level. But I also believe that He likes us to interact as well. It's not like we're just along for the ride in this, and He's not going to just give us everything we ask for, even when we trust in Him.

That's where free will comes in. God empowers us to accomplish things by using the abilities that He has gifted to us. This principle that I spent most of my life believing somehow got lost between walking away and returning to my faith. When that happened, I stopped acting on my faith, using the excuse that "it's in God's hands". In reality, His provision is in giving me the ability to take care of some things myself, and not requiring a supernatural phenomenon every time something comes up.

The Deeper Cut

I know I've addressed the need for community before. But I don't think I can stress it enough. So today I'm going with a different approach. Today I'm tackling things more from my personal perspective; one that is demonized by modern western culture, which worships and glorifies its independence above all else. Today, let's dig in to the idea of neediness.

Let me start off by saying how much I hate this use of the word "needy". If we look up that word in any given dictionary, the very first definition is probably going to be something like, "lacking the necessities of life", or more simply, "very poor", and having synonyms like disadvantaged, underprivileged, or impoverished. Strange, because when we hear that word used nowadays, it usually refers to something more emotional than physical. Also, it has a decidedly negative connotation, describing someone who should be either pitied or outright reviled. And yet, between the two contexts, what we find is very human. Always people who, by no real choice of their own, need to be loved in a specific sort of way.

So what does that mean? It means that instead of pity and revulsion, how about showing them love? That is what they need, after all. And love is a thing best expressed through action. So when we think of the needy in a physical sense, the Bible talks about giving them the things they need, not just wishing them well. It should be the same for the emotionally needy. And how is that done? By listening with an open heart and mind, and not speaking until you have done so.

As for the way the needy, in any sense of the word, should be looked at, should they not be seen as people who have been broken by their circumstances? It's not like they necessarily chose this lifestyle, after all, even if it was a bad decision that got them there. The consequences of that decision can't even be removed by a lesson learned. But by a helping hand from a patient, loving person, yes.

Now let's talk about that person's outlook and perspective. Even as a Christian, a person faced with a lot of adversity does not have an invincible emotional resolve. There is a breaking point for everyone, and although their faith may ultimately be unwavering, there's nothing unbiblical about them being down and depressed, or even feeling like God has abandoned them. In fact, a good portion of the book of Psalms comes from people in just such emotional states. To paraphrase Shakespeare, it's only human to bleed when cut.

Having lived a human life as Jesus, and even having experienced that exact feeling, God understands this. And as Christians, who are to strive to love as God loves, it's our responsibility to make efforts to understand as well. Unfortunately, for many people, who have not experienced true hardship in life, it can seem impossible to understand and empathize. So I pray for brokenness for all such people, as I did for myself nearly a year ago, so that there can be understanding, empathy, and ultimately love for the needy.

I also pray that that prayer is spoken from pure motives. Because to my shame, I'm certainly not above selfishness, even and especially in my prayers.

All a Man Can Do

I've been thinking a lot about the life-change that is Christ-following. More specifically, as it has applied to my life on a personal level. Last year I made a decision to actively follow Christ in everything I do. To me this decision was a black and white. I either am or am not trying to follow Him. This much I still believe to be true. However, what that looks like over the long term is maybe not what I'd idealized.

You hear, in people's testimonies, about when they were saved. This, too, is a black and white issue. Salvation is something you have at once, when you accept Christ as your Lord and Savior. However, a subconscious misconception I had was that my life would immediately, completely, and permanently reflect that in every way. It's now finally beginning to sink in for me that that's really not how it works. Salvation is a gift you only need to accept in order to have it, but that change in lifestyle is definitely a long-term, even lifelong process. It's not instantaneous, it's not easy, and it's not painless.

I envision God and myself having a conversation. I receive Him and agree to live my life to His glory. Well, then it gets complicated. He says something like, "Okay. I can change your heart, but I'm gonna have to remove some things. It's gonna take time, and it's gonna hurt a lot. Are you ready? Here we go." The painful process of life-renovation begins then.

This is the process I've been wrestling with, especially over the past year. Amid trying to allow God to make changes, which are painful but necessary, our enemy also notices a genuine will to change. Afraid of what we are capable of, he seeks to thwart us in every possible way. We are bound to face a bombardment of trials, which are allowed to act as a sort of crucible for our soul. I speak mostly for myself here, but I think we are bound to fail repeatedly before we experience victory in this endeavor.

The hardest thing for me has been accepting that it is what it is: a process of stumbling and falling before I can truly learn to use God as the firm ground on which to stand. My pride has very often stood directly in my way of progressing, in that it blinds me to the humbling truth: that I need patience and grace, even and especially from myself.

These Frail Hands

There have been a lot of questions in my mind lately, regarding the misfortunes of recent months. Questions that have answers that make sense from a Biblical standpoint, but to my tiny human mind, and with emotions getting in the way, they seem to make no sense at all.

I have endured heartbreak and hopelessness. I have scraped by on what is now looking to reach bare minimum. I have gazed into my future and seen only desolation, only to turn back to my present life and watch, helpless, as it crumbled. Yet through all this, I still draw breath. And I am compelled to acknowledge that even this would have been impossible, had God not allowed it to be so.

I can't lie. My trust in Him has wavered. My faith hangs by a thread. And yet, what a strong thread. I know that, although I'm beyond frustrated with my situation and nothing seems to make any sense, I've experienced too much truth to simply turn away from it. I despair now, but I know, down to the core of me, God will see me through this dark season, and He will use me in ways I can't even fathom.

Islands

In talking to several people about growing and maturing, the term "independent" has come up a lot. It's natural for people to seek independence from their parents as they shift from childhood to adulthood. You have to learn to take care of things yourself, because your parents won't always be there to do things for you. But lately, I've wondered about the direction we've taken in overusing independence as a concept for life.

Western culture has really taken on the idea of independence. Think for yourself, take care of yourself, and whatever you do, never admit to needing other people. It's like we've gripped the idea of no longer depending on our parents and run with it, even morphed it to be something that it's not, to the point where anything less is seen as weak and needy. It's unsurprising, as a basically atheistic culture, but what shocks me is when I see it among Christians.

The reason it bothers me so much is because it's not only overrated, but it's also not Biblical. I don't claim to be particularly Bible-savvy; I am still learning. But I can say with some certainty that nowhere in the Bible does it advise a follower of Christ to be independent. In fact, the exact opposite is true. I recall growing up, hearing phrases like iron sharpens iron. More recently, the subject of submission has gotten my attention, about how we're supposed to submit to one another as a church body, out of reverence to God. There are also proverbs written about seeking counsel and friendship. A personal favorite of mine, from Ecclesiastes, addresses the merits of companionship in general. And in fact, from the very beginning of the human race, God Himself said that people need one another.

So why is it so important to God that we don't try to be as independent as we can be? Obviously only He fully understands. But I have an idea about it, that it might have something to do with our ego. When we show ourselves to be independent, we develop an image of that, the natural byproduct of which is certain to be pride. But what, really, do we have to be proud of? Everything we are and have, we owe to God's provision. If we're glorifying ourselves for our independence, we aren't acknowledging the One to whom we owe literally everything.

I think that God made us to be dependent on one another, in part, to remind us of how vulnerable we actually are, and how much we need Him. That's why we function together as a body. When we're not a part of that, there are needs that aren't being met, even if we refuse to admit it.

Invictus

It's hard trying to pull yourself out of depression. My last post was a testament to that. But I realize leaving off on such a dark note is probably not the best thing to do, even with no readers. More for personal reasons than anything else, it's time to give voice to the thoughts since then that have most likely been the answers to my prayers and those of anyone else who prays for me.

I should clarify: I don't imagine that this is a huge turning point, during which I instantaneously change from the depressive person that I am. That's a more deep-seated problem, and it will take a long time to heal. And the fact of the matter is, my conditions haven't changed. But in this case, it seems to be for the better, in the long-term.

With my last post, I noted that these material difficulties I'm experiencing in life were just that: trials to strengthen my faith. And while I don't doubt the partial accuracy of that conclusion, I now feel like there's more to it; that there's a bigger picture still. Unsurprisingly, it's not just about me, though I am undoubtedly tied in.

I recall reading, almost a year ago now, the book called Crazy Love. One of the main points that stuck out to me was that our lives are not about us. We aren't placed here to live out comfortable, happy lives and elevate our own status. We're here to glorify God.

As I go through troubles, I often draw parallels to the story of Job. I realize, of course, that my troubles are nothing compared to what his were, and the reason might be completely different, but the idea is the same: a man going through troubles, the worst yet in his life, but determined to stay faithful to his Heavenly Father.

The similarities kinda stop there. I certainly don't see myself as any kind of blameless, upright man, and I know I'm not particularly good at "shunning evil" either. But you see, that's where my focus has been: the beginning and the middle of Job. That's where it feels like I am at this point in life, and so it is, to my mind, relevant to my current situation. But I've also read the end of Job. The part where he gets not the answers he seeks, but a spirit bomb attack of humility from the Almighty Himself; one that lasts a stunning four chapters. Even those, though, don't do justice to the point I'm making. The point comes in during the very last chapter of Job, where God takes everything that has fallen apart in Job's life and puts it back together, except much better than before.

So what's my point? Actually, not the notion that God might make my life better than before. Not that, so much as the fact that only He can. I've been reminded of the Old Testament, during which God came through for His servants countless times, and in ways that it was brazenly obvious that it was Him. Do you think that Jericho would have fallen to the sound of trumpets if God hadn't told the Israelites to play them to that end? Or that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego could have survived the furnace if God hadn't saved them? I'll spare any further examples here, but rest assured, they are many.

During situations like these, it seems that God intentionally allows all other escapes to be blocked off, leaving His power and care alone to account for the conclusion. We are left with no choice but to acknowledge and glorify Him. In that sense, whatever paltry strife I am experiencing right now, no matter how grim it looks, when God resolves the situation in whatever way and timing He has decided to do so, the ultimate victory will be glory to Him alone.

My part in this? I am to be patient, to endure, and to learn. God is tempering my life. A life that needed to pass through cleansing fire before it could adequately contribute to our ultimate purpose: to bring glory to His name.

The Pendulous Fall

The past year has been difficult. Very difficult. Probably the hardest year of my life yet. It was shocking, looking back to the same time last year. Things seemed to be looking up for the first time in as long as I could remember. I was having an awesome time at an event I considered to be the highlight of my year. During that time, I was corresponding with a girl who would soon be my girlfriend, in my first Godly relationship, really ever. I had plans to go back to school and get my educational and career goals back on track. I was good at my job, and I felt secure there. Most importantly, I was rediscovering my faith. Things were beginning to make sense, after so many years of aimless drifting. For what now seems like one shining moment, things were beautiful.

It's terrifying, now that I look back, just how quickly and suddenly everything can come crashing down. As I now struggle in school and work. As I fight, probably in vain, for the relationship that ended before it was given a fair chance. As I clamor to hang on to all the things - necessities, conveniences, luxuries - that are slipping, heedless, through my clenching fists. As I try desperately to hang on to my fraying infant faith, by telling myself of trials put in place to strengthen it. As I feel, more and more frequently and profoundly, that I am facing this world of darkness and pain alone, despite countless verbal and evident reassurances to the contrary.

It's unimaginably difficult, trying to picture my life ever being whole and happy again. Now as I think back, I wonder in terror if my life ever was whole or happy. Do I even know what a truly joyful life looks like from the first person? Would I recognize it if I had it? It fills me with fear when I start to think that death is the only cure for this pain. I don't think these are thoughts a Christ-follower should experience, and it gets to my very core and makes me question if I am really who I claim to be.

Dear imagined readers, pray for me. Pray for clarity, and absent that, pray for my faith.

Torn

Several long months have passed since I made the decision to actively follow Christ, as opposed to the lukewarm Christian-labeled disgrace I'd been for most of my life. I've had many questions, and a few answers here and there. But widely speaking, I haven't really experienced the peace and joy I've always heard about the active pursuit of Christ. Or maybe I have, but I might have a warped perception of what that should be. And just because it's me, my natural assumption is that I'm doing something wrong. Some behavior, some attitude, some motive is just out of place.

I think a big part of this comes from essentially trying to split myself; to "keep a foot in each world", so to speak. My thought is always that balance is key, in pretty much everything. In finance, time management, politics, you name it. But is that right in this situation?

The case in point is a recent discovery. It's come to my attention that a huge part of my life for years has been the nature of my close friendships. More specifically, the nature of the friends themselves. Now, I certainly can't blame them for the decisions I've wrecked my life with time and time again. But I also can't deny that they've influenced me and my way of thinking, which has had a long-term effect on my decision making ability. In other words, you are who you hang out with. More bitingly toward said friends, there's Proverbs 13:20.

Now comes the rub. Though I know the principle and wisdom set forth in that proverb and others like it, I also know of a couple other things. One, chiefly, is that Jesus pretty much hung out with the dregs of the populace. I mean, you see it again and again in the general silliness of the apostles, from each of the their humble beginnings (basically hillbillies and crooks), to the various ways that they lied, betrayed, and doubted Jesus toward the end of His ministry on Earth. Yet through all this, Jesus kept them around, and even equipped them to continue His work when His time came to leave. Should I not be doing the same, with even the cases that seem hopeless, such as my unbelieving friends?

The other thing is that it goes against everything I feel is right, to just give up on my friends. I feel like they're a big part of my ministry. They're the crowd that I come from, and so to give up on them feels a lot like giving up on myself. God put key people in my life to rescue me from my old ways, and I don't want to just say "to Hell with those still caught up in them." In a sense, I guess I feel like God also put me in a position of accountability, to guide them out of that empty, egocentric lifestyle, and back to Him. I can acknowledge that sometimes a friendship runs its course and reaches its end, and so it may not be me that guides them out of the proverbial desert, but… I dunno, maybe it's just hard for me to actually accept that.

Prologue

This is a blog. I can accept that this is a blog. I'm blogging, and that makes me a blogger.

Okay, good. Now that we've got the AA meeting stuff out of the way, let's establish some basic truths.

I am a Christian. This means that, to no credit of my own, God has shown me grace, and I've accepted it. Now my goal in life is to share that grace with others, because I want to be more like God.

I am painfully human. This means that I am still flawed; the lowest of sinners, and undeserving of the grace I am endlessly shown. This is a permanent condition, for as long as I am living in this dying husk of a body and inhabiting this bloodstained world.

In this blog, I am real. As real as I can be. As real as my inner deceptions allow. Here is where I wade through my own personal mire of uncertainty and deceit, in search of grains of truth. Here, the mask comes off, and the hideousness of my true visage is shown. Here, I must learn that my condition is no worse than that of anyone else, because we are all fallen.

DISCLAIMER: All posts to come are likely to be a jumbled mess of unintelligible thoughts and flawed theology. Bear with me, imagined readers. I do hope that these things will eventually become more coherent as my faith matures and my writing skills improve.