Anything

The last few months I've started blog post after blog post after blog post without finishing any of them.  I've been wrestling with something for the last year that I couldn't really put into words, and I am not sure that I have them now.  Please bear with because I am determined to publish this today.

I don't want a comfortable Christian life.

I've done that, a comfortable Christian life.  I believe in Jesus.  I have accepted salvation.  I have served my church in ministry capacity.  I am fairly well versed in the Bible, I can have conversations about my beliefs.  I have the appearance of someone who has it together.  I had a comfortable Christian life, and I walked away from it because it wasn't enough.

When life got hard, as it does, it was easy to walk away from the church, easy to figure out my own way of doing it, of living life.  I had this. I made choices, went by my feelings, I could use my intuition to make a fairly comfortable life.  It was a good life.  I was a good person.

Then my world fell apart, and all of this self-constructed life imploded.  It was just over a year from that point that I returned to my faith.  Something changed in me.

I'd lived this safe comfortable, happy Christian life.  I knew it was not enough.  I grew up in the church, I knew how to behave, how to appear.  I knew the rules of that life and I knew it wasn't enough because as much as it had changed my heart and had granted me salvation, my life really had not changed.

I determined last Fall that I didn't ever want to get comfortable in my Christianity, that I always wanted to ache and be aware of the depth of salvation.  I would express this desire and very few people understood what I was trying to say, I don't even know if *I* understood what was in my heart.  I'm not sure if I understand it now.  But it's been burning in me for a year, and like an infected pimple I cannot stop scratching at it and picking it.

Today was reading in this in a book called, "Anything: The Prayer That Unlocked My God And My Soul", and here is a short excerpt that really impacted me:

"I remember the first time it occurred to me that my life looked more like the lives of the people Jesus rebuked than the people Jesus drew near to.  I was reading his words to the religious in Matthew, "So you outwardly appear righteous to others, but within you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness" (23:28).
  
Ugh.  I felt that way.  I knew deep down I was screwed up.  I also knew nobody really knew it, and I liked it that way.  I did not want to be facedown in the sand like all the sinners Jesus healed.  I wanted to stay bright and shiny and good, and comfortably on my feet.  Yet when I read the words of Christ, I felt this call.  A call to fall on my face.

It physically hurts to see our pride, to see our sin, to quit playing good, to feel broken and to need God. And it hurts even more to let others see it.  So we run from falling; we choose large fig leaves to cover up with and not God.  We run from that vulnerable feeling that we may not measure up, all while aching to measure up.

Throughout the history of humanity, this has been how we engage God.  First we ask, is he real?  And second, do we really need him?

What if the thing we are trying to impress him with was the very thing keeping us from him?"

I'm rocked to my heels.  I need this.  I want God to get ahold of me and shake me to my core.  I want to be His girl, the one He uses... in whatever small or large way He has.  I don't want to need this, but I do.  I'm scared.  If I really trust God with my life, if I really let Him have control of it?  What will He ask of me?  What will I lose out on?  What is in store?  Because I DO want to have a comfortable life. I DO want to be cherished and have a happy and simple existence, I do.  I do, I do, I do.

But what I have with God right now is not enough, and I feel drawn to let go and to trust God and say, "Yes" to His call.  I want a reckless faith that says yes.

I have no idea what is in store, perhaps it is a 'normal' and comfortable life.  I have no idea.  But the thing in the depth of my heart wants more of God and less of me (and I absolutely understand how holier-than-thou and churchy this all must sound).  I'm asking for prayer for this journey.  I welcome any companions on this journey, but I can't tell you how it's going to turn out.  I guess I just have this faith that God is going to meet me, and I pray He does.  I know He promises to do that over and over.

So, here I am and the prayer in my heart is, "Oh God of second chances and new beginnings, Here I Am, again today.  I will do anything.  Anything."  

I find myself

I find myself aching again.

In light of Robin Williams' suicide yesterday, I find myself aching for a man I didn't know aside from a very public persona and for the man I knew so very intimately and couldn't save.

(As as aside, I know it wasn't my job to save him, but the thought remains none the less.)

I find myself aching for those of us who have lost loved ones to the heartache of suicide.

I see people talking about suicide as the ultimate selfish act and I just want to throttle them.  Actually, throttle is a kind word for what I'd like to do, but I digress.  I see these people who speak as Christians, use their faith as a weapon of shame and cutting, elevating their opinion, airing their self-righteousness and I ache for the people who they hurt - intentionally or not.  I'd really like to think that they are just so entirely self-focused that they can't imagine how their words might land on someone who struggles.

Then I see other writers, who speak as seekers of Jesus.  Writers who's voices I identify with - not knowing but seeking, who encourage people to get help - and suggest that help beyond prayer might be needed, and I am thankful.  Writers who offer understanding and honesty, salve to the wounds of the disheartened and I too, am encouraged.

I don't have the answers.  If you are hurting and aching, please reach out.  Know that there IS help, seek it.  Take the help and find peace.