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.