A New Beginning

It's been an interesting few days. Interesting, in this case, can be characterized by change, both conditional and spiritual. Of course, with these changes comes also a change of mindset, which I hope will finally set the stage for the radical internal overhaul that I've been needing for so long.

I have been a Christian in name, and my life has reflected that to some degree. And yet, neither of these things necessarily means anything, even together. There's a middle piece that's still missing. I'm still faithless and joyless, engulfed in the chaos of the world, and of my own sullied heart and mind. This mask I've worn has deceived many people, myself included, although some others have seen through it. Now that I'm facing the truth, it's frightening to realize the depth of my own deception.

However, there's something liberating about this mask being off. Like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. My self-deception told me that I had to act like a Christian in order to be a Christian, as a sort of cause and effect. The problem with that is that it attempts to earn the grace that God gives as a gift. That's not legitimate Christianity.

Now that I've faced this truth, I'm free to explore the grace I'm given. Obviously that doesn't mean returning to the more worldly lifestyle I cultivated before; there are changes I've made that I should keep. My point is that those changes don't indicate a change in my soul. God must work in me, and He only can if I allow Him to do so.

In the interest of keeping this real, I should admit that I still don't know exactly what that means or how to do it. How do you "allow" God to work in you? If only I had a thing I could physically do to ensure that this is happening. But I guess that's not faith.

Still praying for a revelation.

Breaking All Illusions

Or, the working title, "Falling Back to Earth, Part 2." So are you ready for the next dose of reality? Yeah, me neither.

Yesterday I established that I'm experiencing a faith crisis. At the time, to me, that meant I didn't know what God was looking for from me, and I was confused as to why He either wasn't listening to me, or He just wasn't answering. But something I should have been concerned about all along was whether or not it was simply me not listening to what He was saying.

The deeper reality of what I've been going through, not just recently, I've realized, but since the very beginning of my walk, is that I'm not entirely who I believe myself to be. I want to believe, and I want to accept. But in truth, my goals have been off, and I've been seeking for all the wrong reasons. The changes I've seen in my life since then have been legitimate, but again, if done for the wrong reasons, then what good are deeds?

There is an idol in my life. One for which I've based all of this change, when I needed to be doing it for God. Not only for God, but as a natural overflow of my relationship with Him. Instead, it has been the result of the guilt I feel when I do wrong. Knowing this, I'm left with a painful choice to make. I have to make certain that what I'm doing is for the right reasons, but I don't know if I can do that with this idol present.

Mind you, it's not a bad thing, this false god. Not in and of itself, anyway; not if I don't deify it. On the contrary, it was a gateway to the path I needed to walk. But until now, instead of walking that path, I've stood at this threshold, merely imagining that I was continuing onward. So can I actually press forward with this here, or do I have to excruciatingly remove it from my life in order to continue?

Several months ago, I actually took the first steps in the removal of this part of my life. However, soon after that it seemed like God was no longer telling me to make this change. Like the obedience in taking the first steps was all He wanted me to do, to prove to myself that I was faithful, first and foremost, to Him. Now I'm not so sure about that.

I'm begging Him to not make me do this; to reveal a different way to attain the same goal. So I'll ask my readers here to pray that I hear His answer, whether or not it's the one I'm afraid of.

Falling Back to Earth

I hate to admit this, but in the interest of growing and overcoming a problem, I feel like coming to terms with it is the first step in finding a solution. That's the twelve-step stance, anyway, isn't it? So here we go.

I am in a state of faith crisis. I'm here because I look around at other Christians, and they make it look so easy. So easy to believe that God is there, listening, answering, and providing what's best for us. So easy to take a genuine interest in faith and theology. They make it look like it's their entire life, there's nothing secular or sinful about them, and their faith is never jeopardized.

In sharp contrast, since I decided to start actively following Christ nearly two years ago, I've been met with almost nothing but opposition. My faith is tested, threatened, and leveled. It's difficult to believe that God wants what's best for me when the most significant events in my spiritual life involve all of my dreams being crushed and my hopes for a better life withering daily. I hate myself for being so bitter, but I don't know what more He wants from me. I have done what I've believed He's asked me to do, and yet the only changes of any significance have been bad news. My heart's desires remain unfulfilled, and I'm left constantly questioning my own legitimacy. Thousands of formless questions pass through my mind, and all of my energy is spent trying to figure out what it is I'm even trying to ask. But they all seem to lead back to the same basic question: What am I still doing wrong?

You may say that the life of a Christian isn't meant to be an easy one. That adversity is a sign that I'm doing something right, and that I just have to forge onward and wait for the storm to break. But what if I break first? Don't others have at least something of some significance going right for them every now and then? A dream fulfilled, to restore their hope?

I am lost. I don't have a bearing or know what I should be doing. Everything I do seems like a mistake, and everything I learn seems ultimately irrelevant. I wander, searching for answers, asking God for the wisdom He promises. And yet, I am still a fool. There seems to be some basic principle that every Christian understands, which I am simply missing. This search has left me demoralized and exhausted, and I don't know how much longer I can continue. I am begging God for mercy, and yet there is no oasis in this desert. I wonder if my prayers are even prayers at all.

I apologize for the apparent negativity of this post. With my previous one, I'd hoped they would be of a happier note, at least for the most part. But this must be addressed. I can't keep faking my spiritual life. If you're reading this, I wholeheartedly ask you to pray for me. An answer from God is the only thing that will fix this.

Time to Grow

It's been a little while since I posted last. The reasons for that are that, number one, I've been busy, what with the school semester wrapping up. There hasn't been much time for nonessentials. However, second, and more importantly, I've noticed a definite negative trend in my last two or three posts. Such things don't help anything, and so my position was one of debate over whether or not to keep this blog going. For the time being, it get to stay. But I want it to reflect a more positive outlook.

Now, on point, this actually ties in a little bit.

With my last post I addressed an issue that is actually still of great concern for me—the ability of human beings to change. But our faith hinges on the belief in a redeemed life. Without that, there would be no hope. For anyone.

With my last post, I was clearly downtrodden, as I've been a lot lately. It's demoralizing to repeatedly make the same mistakes and slip back into the same sinful habits, all the while longing all the more for a godly life. Such things indicate double-mindedness, which I may or may not address in a different post.

I'm the sort of person to get demoralized easily. I criticize myself far more than anyone else does, and so my mistakes are blown out of proportion in my mind. This sets me on a downward spiral, from which circumstances of escape seem mostly arbitrary. That is to say, I can't get myself out of that plunge.

However, when I offer myself a little grace and cut myself some slack, I've noticed, just tonight actually, that things aren't as hopeless as they appear at first blush. (Surprise, surprise, right?) In fact, I'm much closer to my goal than I'd ever dare give myself credit for. The reason I know that ties in with things several people have said over the past few months about their observations of me.

The truth is, I recognize my shortcomings. I'd pretty much have to, with the unsafe amount of introspection in which I allow myself to indulge. Such behavior depresses me like nobody's business, yet it also gives me some clarity as far as what things about myself I need to fix. This, I think, is a revelation many people don't reach.

Now of course, seeing all of my shortcomings, either at face value or through my far-worse perception of them, is what puts me into a depressive state. The reason for that is because it seems hopeless with all the changes I need to make. I feel like I can never do it. And my frequent backslides only exacerbate things further, by making it look like I haven't even made any progress at all. But when I'm in my right mind, I'm able to look behind me and see the changes apparent in my life between now and even just a few months prior.

The plus side of having that deeply introspective tendency is that it does reveal my critical flaws. That's necessary if they're ever going to change. My analysis of those flaws, in turn, gives me a sort of blueprint—a checklist, almost: things I can/must still work on.

A conclusion I reached earlier this evening is that knowing these things, even though they bring me down, is better than knowing something is wrong, but not knowing what. Because with this blueprint, so to speak, I at least have something to work on. In a manner of speaking, I may not have the answers yet, but I do know the right questions to ask. And to me that seems like half the battle.

The Root of All Evil

I've been feeling a lot of anxiety for the past couple of days. A strong, disheartened feeling of futility. Like everything I've done counts for nothing. It makes me question the legitimacy of the changes I thought were being made in my life and within me.

Can we really change? I like to think we can. But somehow it seems like something is preventing me from changing and turning away from my evil, selfish nature. I see the joy in other people's lives, and the genuine love and care they have for others, and I long for it. I've said before that love must be completely selfless, and in light of that, I wonder if I even have the capacity to truly love anyone.

If you're reading this blog, it probably means you know me well enough for me to trust you with my innermost thoughts, because I'm pretty selective about to whom I give the link. Either that or you just happened to stumble across it, which happens sometimes too. But in the case of the former, I know you'll say something like, "That's not true. Your perspective of yourself is just off." But what if you're wrong? What if mine is the only verbalized perspective that's accurate?

Let me explain this: I am an extremely selfish person. To the point where I can justify my every "selfless" action with something that's in it for me, or is a calculated risk for the sake of possibly gaining something later. Basically, each action is either a purchase or an investment for personal gain. I'm cheerful about doing things when I can see those things that will or could benefit me. But once I can no longer see that potential, while I might still do things, inwardly I'm irritated, or even angry about it.

I hate this about myself. To me it's the absolute lowest form of evil there is.

I've always believed that all sin stems from selfishness. More important than an action in and of itself is the intention behind it. God knows the ways we each think, and He understands our motives infinitely better than even we do. And our actions alone are worthless to Him, because it's our faith that He values. Therefore, doing the right things for the wrong reasons is not only wrong, it's actually blasphemy.

I think people often don't think they're blaspheming if they're not using God's name as a bad word. But rest assured, doing something for personal gain and saying it's for God is every bit as wrong. It's the same as doing evil things and pasting God's name all over it.

To accept these ideas as fact, as I do, I necessarily convict myself of repeatedly and unabashedly committing sin. I pray wholeheartedly for God to change me into something that not only glorifies Him, as all things will in the end, but something that actually wants to.

Mrs. Modern Mother Mary

[Foreword: As a word of caution, this one is controversial, even as I read it back to myself. In fact, I feel inclined to pray Psalm 139:23-24 as I reflect on it. Please, view at your discretion.]

I've felt weird for the past few days. Detached. Not in most areas of my life, but specifically at church, and among that social group. I don't like this condition, because it feels like I'm in a state of unrest with my faith. But it's not really that, I don't think. I've still been pretty good about my time spent intentionally with God, and the positive changes are still pretty apparent in the way I've been acting and living life. I still feel like He's moving in me. But my issues seem to be specifically with some of the church.

I first really noticed it on Sunday, when I went to the morning service. I didn't much feel like socializing with my friends, even though ministry commitments keep me from sitting with them half of the time. But as I've thought about it since then, I've realized that even college group hasn't been very appealing to me lately. So although I have had other responsibilities keeping me from going, I haven't been very upset about that, I guess because I haven't really felt much like going anyway. That's a bummer, because up until now these things have been the highlights of my week.

The cause is something that I've noticed about myself: that I find certain tendencies of some of the people within the church to be particularly annoying. For instance, the apparent disinclination to talk about anything secular, just casually. Like God would smite us wicked heathens for mentioning anything that isn't in the Bible. Or the stereotypical conservative bent of the church, manifesting as snarky comments about the left side of the political spectrum, as though you can't be a Christian if you don't vote Republican. Or the always-chipper appearance, real or not, that so often seems to ignore the brokenness of each individual even within the church body. These things might seem petty, and I feel like I'm rebellious and sinful for even being irritated about them, but just being honest, they've been irksome to me for a while.

I guess it bothers me because it feels misguidedly pious, and honestly a bit fake. If all the words that ever come out of our mouths are spoken in Christianese, then how the hell is the rest of the human race supposed to relate to us? How can we extend hands toward the unbelieving world if we're so busy building up sterile walls of holy chatter that estrange the people we're supposed to be guiding?

Things like this make me think of my life before I was following Christ, and how I would have reacted to some of the things that are said in this circle. If all anyone had ever said to me beforehand was spoken in this alienating, holy speech, I would have inwardly thought about how brainwashed they are. It would have acted as a deterrent to me more than anything else.

I think the way to win people's hearts to Christ is through being lovingly relatable. If you just go and attack an unsaved stranger with Bible verses, it's no better than standing on a street corner, shouting about how everyone else is going to Hell. We can't just start off by making people feel uncomfortable. Christianity is relational. The joy and discomfort of following Christ has to be each person's choice, and the only way they'll want to make that choice is if a relationship is built first. That means that we have to be able to meet them, to some extent, in their own territory.

Since the journey truly begins at that point, ignorance of the inevitable pitfalls that follow indicates neglect of the necessary continuation of the relationship between people within the church. People still struggle with their sins, even after being saved, and yet too often I get the impression that members of the church body see salvation as a trophy rather than a lifestyle. That only serves to push struggling Christians into a faith crisis as they begin to doubt their own sincerity in their beliefs and convictions.

Solitary Ground

I spent most of today in a particularly dark place. I was almost completely immobilized, unable to motivate myself to do anything. I couldn't break out, even though I knew I needed to, and I was beyond the reach of anyone who tried to help me.

It scares me when this happens. It doesn't happen as often now as it used to, which is comforting, but the powerlessness of that feeling is still overwhelming. What is there to do when I'm plunged into darkness, and prayer, Bible study, and company bring me no comfort?

I read through some psalms, and then started on Ecclesiates, which are the books to which I usually turn when I'm in a depressed mindset. I suppose they helped marginally. I guess sometimes the only thing to do is endure patiently, and try to remember and internalize the fact that God won't abandon me.