I've been caught in a dark, despairing place lately. Now, you could probably read this blog from beginning to end and tell me I've almost always been there, but even in my darkest moments, there's usually some kind of comfort or hope for a way out. But right now it seems like I'm actually at the end of my rope.
The frustrating thing about my situation is how innocuous it probably looks to anyone else. The things that compose my problems are, of themselves, far from life-shattering. They're inconvenient, heartbreaking, and constantly disappointing, but in the long run, no one dies from them. But I think the frequency, spread, and apparent permanency of these problems give an overall tinge of bleak hopelessness to my life. So it's not that any of it is going to kill me, but what it does is drain me of a desire to live.
To an extent, all of this has actually had a positive impact. I've been reaching out more lately, turning to Christ and trying to hand my pain over to Him. I've sought counsel from several people who are wiser than I am, and I've established myself in a couple of church-related groups for community. At times I've even felt inspired to flourish in my own ministry.
I know all of this must be at least part of the purpose to my suffering, to inspire a closer connection to God and the church, and to better use the gifts I've been given. But lately I feel completely oppressed, often to the point of paralysis. When everything I try seems to be met with dismal failure, I'm left only asking God what I'm still doing wrong. And I know that not every bad occurrence in life is a result of a poor decision, but the thought that my past mistakes are the cause of my present sufferings constantly lingers in my mind. Internally, I'm still trying to justify and give a definite earthly purpose to everything that's going wrong.
I'd be lying if I said that no negatively extreme solutions have entered my mind. I've had passing thoughts of simply walking away from God, and either suicide or at least letting myself die. I'll tell any readers right now: passing thoughts is all they are, and so they're not anything I'm actually considering. But in the interest of keeping this blog full-disclosure, it'd be remiss of me to not mention it.
I don't know what to do. I'm told God just wants me to completely trust Him. I know that, and for what it's worth, I'm trying. But it's amazing how difficult it is to simply trust when I don't understand His ways, and His love for me is completely unlike anything I'd imagined it to be, or how it appears to be for other people.
Saturday, March 26, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Rage of Despair
I've been working through resolving a lot of my uncomfortable emotions lately. My recent life choices have been difficult, and they've left a lot of deep wounds. It seems only natural that those hurts would manifest themselves as anger. From the beginning, I knew that what I was feeling wasn't actually that. But I couldn't exactly put my finger on why, so I've allowed myself to seethe for a little while as I've attempted to process what it is I've been going through.
One of the obvious questions I've had to ask myself has been at what I've actually been angry; in other words, where that anger should be focused. There are a few factors, several of which are people, that are tied into my present sufferings. But as I ran down a mental list (with the guidance of wise counsel), it became clear that these were things on which I had no right to focus any anger, especially the people in question. Certainly, things could have been handled differently by everyone involved (myself included), but nothing resulting from anyone's actions merited actually being angry.
From this it's become clear that anger isn't the appropriate response. So while I was irrationally, unjustly angry, it's my responsibility to process that emotion; to try to understand the myriad of pieces that compose it. What I've realized is that what looked at first like simple rage was actually more a combination of sadness, hurt, frustration, hopelessness, and a general sense of self-inadequacy.
The practical distinction between all of these and the anger they resemble is that they're either internal struggles which must be dealt with between myself and God, or they're scalar in nature and therefore can't be focused negatively on anything at all. In effect, what this does is allow me to grieve my sense of loss in a healthy way and work on my own development, both without placing the blame for my hurts on other people. It empowers me, and it therefore gives me a responsibility to myself.
I thought, at first, that there would certainly be forgiveness, eventually, for the hurts I've suffered. I now realize that there can be no forgiveness, because there are no wrongs to forgive. The other people involved, no matter in what way, have nothing for which to be sorry.
This is a step in my personal growth, as well as in my faith. God is taking this suffering and using it to reveal the ways in which I can grow closer to Him.
One of the obvious questions I've had to ask myself has been at what I've actually been angry; in other words, where that anger should be focused. There are a few factors, several of which are people, that are tied into my present sufferings. But as I ran down a mental list (with the guidance of wise counsel), it became clear that these were things on which I had no right to focus any anger, especially the people in question. Certainly, things could have been handled differently by everyone involved (myself included), but nothing resulting from anyone's actions merited actually being angry.
From this it's become clear that anger isn't the appropriate response. So while I was irrationally, unjustly angry, it's my responsibility to process that emotion; to try to understand the myriad of pieces that compose it. What I've realized is that what looked at first like simple rage was actually more a combination of sadness, hurt, frustration, hopelessness, and a general sense of self-inadequacy.
The practical distinction between all of these and the anger they resemble is that they're either internal struggles which must be dealt with between myself and God, or they're scalar in nature and therefore can't be focused negatively on anything at all. In effect, what this does is allow me to grieve my sense of loss in a healthy way and work on my own development, both without placing the blame for my hurts on other people. It empowers me, and it therefore gives me a responsibility to myself.
I thought, at first, that there would certainly be forgiveness, eventually, for the hurts I've suffered. I now realize that there can be no forgiveness, because there are no wrongs to forgive. The other people involved, no matter in what way, have nothing for which to be sorry.
This is a step in my personal growth, as well as in my faith. God is taking this suffering and using it to reveal the ways in which I can grow closer to Him.
Monday, March 14, 2016
Blind Faith
A culmination of recent events has made me rethink a lot of things about my faith. I had a few friends take huge steps in their faith walks recently, and that always inspires the sharing of testimony in social gatherings, even from those who have taken less recent, though equally significant steps.
Over one such gathering, everyone involved shared their experiences with disillusionment through the raw exposure to accurate world view. That is, they were able to solidify their recognition of their identity in Christ. Curious, I dwelt on it for several days. I know that my own identity in Christ is not entirely what I think it is. My perception, even after all of my trials and lessons, is still warped and tainted by what I'm now told are lies.
The vexing part about this is that I know, intellectually, that I'm deceived. I have the knowledge of who I am in Christ; that I'm eternally loved by God, that my sins are forgiven; ultimately that I'm saved. Yet even now, that reality has never fully sunken in. There's always been something in the way, preventing the peace and joy of Christ from truly taking root.
I asked some of the aforementioned friends about this today. Specifically, I voiced my desire to talk to them, perhaps even somewhat regularly, about actually realizing the identity of which I'm currently merely aware. The way it was broken down for me was simple: to have childlike faith; that is, to believe by enforcement what I already know to be biblically true. To completely disregard the lies and not allow them in, because I can be shielded by the truth. All it takes is taking God at His word.
This will, of course, require much diligence. It's going to be a process of rewiring my heart and mind against a lifetime of allowing creeping doubts and lies into my perspective. Such is the nature of rocky soil. My prayer is for God to till that soil and remove the rocks, so that I can fully step into the life that He has redeemed for me.
Over one such gathering, everyone involved shared their experiences with disillusionment through the raw exposure to accurate world view. That is, they were able to solidify their recognition of their identity in Christ. Curious, I dwelt on it for several days. I know that my own identity in Christ is not entirely what I think it is. My perception, even after all of my trials and lessons, is still warped and tainted by what I'm now told are lies.
The vexing part about this is that I know, intellectually, that I'm deceived. I have the knowledge of who I am in Christ; that I'm eternally loved by God, that my sins are forgiven; ultimately that I'm saved. Yet even now, that reality has never fully sunken in. There's always been something in the way, preventing the peace and joy of Christ from truly taking root.
I asked some of the aforementioned friends about this today. Specifically, I voiced my desire to talk to them, perhaps even somewhat regularly, about actually realizing the identity of which I'm currently merely aware. The way it was broken down for me was simple: to have childlike faith; that is, to believe by enforcement what I already know to be biblically true. To completely disregard the lies and not allow them in, because I can be shielded by the truth. All it takes is taking God at His word.
This will, of course, require much diligence. It's going to be a process of rewiring my heart and mind against a lifetime of allowing creeping doubts and lies into my perspective. Such is the nature of rocky soil. My prayer is for God to till that soil and remove the rocks, so that I can fully step into the life that He has redeemed for me.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Healing Now
Moving forward after something painful is difficult. This I've always known. But I'm only now beginning to realize just how difficult it can be when I have any real say in the painful scenario's outcome.
Several days ago, I terminated a friendship with one of my best friends, because I suddenly realized how toxic it had become. This action flew in the face of nearly everything I'd stood for previously, even though the decision was on my doorstep for a long time. I fought it and then found justifications for fighting it, all the while ignoring external advice and inner goading, reading both as graceless and flawed.
Since my decision, I've been in a state of freefall. I immediately fell to my knees and asked God what I'd just done. Over the following few days, I began questioning the things I'd believed about myself. This would surely be a true test of faith; a trial by which my path would be chosen for years to come.
Having now put myself into a state of life crisis, nearly every moment has been a struggle. Work has kept me busy, but I've noticed the tension builds up quickly there, making me more prone to short temper. Idle pastimes have occupied my mind at home, which is somewhat more effective, until I'm done, at which point I realize I'm exactly where I left off and I've wasted several hours. It's only been a couple of occasions that I've done healthy, sabbatical, social activities, which have been the beginnings of healing.
As I think back on which of my actions have promoted health and reflected maturity, it's clear that the opposing actions have been directly rebellious against God. And it's only putting it in that light that reveals how silly such actions are. What am I doing? "Disciplining" Him? I'm a child punishing his parent for putting him in time out.
The destructive cycle in which I've been locked needs to stop. Tuning out the pain is completely nonproductive; it's effectively only a bandage for an infected wound. Without godly counsel, genuine friendship, and perhaps ministry, I won't heal properly. I've been on a path I've taken too many times in the past, thus further perpetuating my stunted growth.
Several days ago, I terminated a friendship with one of my best friends, because I suddenly realized how toxic it had become. This action flew in the face of nearly everything I'd stood for previously, even though the decision was on my doorstep for a long time. I fought it and then found justifications for fighting it, all the while ignoring external advice and inner goading, reading both as graceless and flawed.
Since my decision, I've been in a state of freefall. I immediately fell to my knees and asked God what I'd just done. Over the following few days, I began questioning the things I'd believed about myself. This would surely be a true test of faith; a trial by which my path would be chosen for years to come.
Having now put myself into a state of life crisis, nearly every moment has been a struggle. Work has kept me busy, but I've noticed the tension builds up quickly there, making me more prone to short temper. Idle pastimes have occupied my mind at home, which is somewhat more effective, until I'm done, at which point I realize I'm exactly where I left off and I've wasted several hours. It's only been a couple of occasions that I've done healthy, sabbatical, social activities, which have been the beginnings of healing.
As I think back on which of my actions have promoted health and reflected maturity, it's clear that the opposing actions have been directly rebellious against God. And it's only putting it in that light that reveals how silly such actions are. What am I doing? "Disciplining" Him? I'm a child punishing his parent for putting him in time out.
The destructive cycle in which I've been locked needs to stop. Tuning out the pain is completely nonproductive; it's effectively only a bandage for an infected wound. Without godly counsel, genuine friendship, and perhaps ministry, I won't heal properly. I've been on a path I've taken too many times in the past, thus further perpetuating my stunted growth.
Friday, March 4, 2016
Pareidolia
To anyone who follows this blog or knows me at any depth, there are probably certain things about me that indicate less than a wholehearted reckless abandon for Christ. It's characteristic of the walk I've had. I believe, I accept, and I profess, but when it comes to actually living my faith, I seem to always come up short.
It's not necessarily through my actions or inactions that this is made apparent, so much as the underlying attitude that I have. It's one that I've maintained, even though my moods have been generally better and still improving in recent months. There's something in my attitudes that's intangible, almost like an aura, that suggests that something is amiss; perhaps even that I'm still putting on a show.
I can't confirm this firsthand, but that seems like a fairly normal thing for someone who has claimed to start following Christ, but hasn't really had to change anything about his lifestyle. To make a turnaround like my life has needed, something must be placed before God as a sacrifice. That something is necessarily the thing (or things) I worshiped prior to my acceptance of Christ as Lord. Because no one can serve two masters.
Until recently, I'd assumed I'd done that. Recalling the story of the Rich Young Ruler, Jesus told him to sell all of his possessions and give the proceeds to the poor. Until he did that, he would not know salvation.
I knew all along that God was not telling me to do exactly that. But I think somewhere in my mind I'd convinced myself that going to church, studying my Bible, doing daily devotionals, getting connected to church groups, and trying to live an outwardly more godly life, were the things that God was commanding me to do. And that was an easy commitment to make. And while I still did other things (work, school, video games, TV, etc.), those things didn't rule my life and dominate my every thought. Furthermore, I'd assumed that I was doing those things worshipfully, which is also what God wants (more precisely, for everything to be done that way).
What I've come to realize is that the possessions, daily tasks, and other mundane things were not what made me a "rich young ruler." They occupied my time out of necessity, but I never truly bowed my life to them. That is to say, I knew they weren't idols to me, and I knew what it was I truly worshiped, but I only recently realized that I'd never given that false god up for Christ.
It saddens me that it takes the forcing of God's hand to finally, physically remove the icons from my life; that I lacked the strength and wisdom to banish them myself. On that note, however, I'm glad He's done it. Now I know the confusion can stop, and with it, so will this spiritual oppression and unrest.
It's not necessarily through my actions or inactions that this is made apparent, so much as the underlying attitude that I have. It's one that I've maintained, even though my moods have been generally better and still improving in recent months. There's something in my attitudes that's intangible, almost like an aura, that suggests that something is amiss; perhaps even that I'm still putting on a show.
I can't confirm this firsthand, but that seems like a fairly normal thing for someone who has claimed to start following Christ, but hasn't really had to change anything about his lifestyle. To make a turnaround like my life has needed, something must be placed before God as a sacrifice. That something is necessarily the thing (or things) I worshiped prior to my acceptance of Christ as Lord. Because no one can serve two masters.
Until recently, I'd assumed I'd done that. Recalling the story of the Rich Young Ruler, Jesus told him to sell all of his possessions and give the proceeds to the poor. Until he did that, he would not know salvation.
I knew all along that God was not telling me to do exactly that. But I think somewhere in my mind I'd convinced myself that going to church, studying my Bible, doing daily devotionals, getting connected to church groups, and trying to live an outwardly more godly life, were the things that God was commanding me to do. And that was an easy commitment to make. And while I still did other things (work, school, video games, TV, etc.), those things didn't rule my life and dominate my every thought. Furthermore, I'd assumed that I was doing those things worshipfully, which is also what God wants (more precisely, for everything to be done that way).
What I've come to realize is that the possessions, daily tasks, and other mundane things were not what made me a "rich young ruler." They occupied my time out of necessity, but I never truly bowed my life to them. That is to say, I knew they weren't idols to me, and I knew what it was I truly worshiped, but I only recently realized that I'd never given that false god up for Christ.
It saddens me that it takes the forcing of God's hand to finally, physically remove the icons from my life; that I lacked the strength and wisdom to banish them myself. On that note, however, I'm glad He's done it. Now I know the confusion can stop, and with it, so will this spiritual oppression and unrest.
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