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.