One of my favorite parts of Monday morning is the artificial sense that the week is off to a fresh start; errs from the weekend are washed away, church has renewed your faith, and the work has only just begun. Perhaps my faith wasn’t recharged this weekend, or two days wasn’t enough to get enough out of my system — here we are.
A recent struggle of mine has been in the conversations, both in-person and imaginary, that have been happening between my mother and I. Rather than spats about family-related issues, there is a much bigger picture at stake here. Faith, beliefs, and our proper interaction with God. It’s hard to go through events of your childhood that have had a profound impact on who you are as an adult, without feeling similar to the little boy you were so many years ago. We get older, but very few of us ever grow up. Our toys get more expensive, matchbox cars get larger, and our temper tantrums are now highly medicated.
“Let’s put this in God’s hands” has been a statement that I’ve been challenging. My struggle with this statement has been its usage in denying the sheer fact that these situations are wholly controlled by human beings, rather than Holy controlled by the Creator. He has the whole world in His hands, but He gave us lives, decisions, and responsibilities to hold in our own, for the purpose of ultimately glorifying Him.
Where the struggle has been is that there are deep, painful questions in me that have yet to find answers. They are questions that can only by answered by first asking them, challenging premises, and removing oneself from the equation by being objective and hell-bent on finding the truth.
Deep, thoughtful sessions have been spent wrestling over many issues. I now understand what it means to labor through prayer. Asking God for clarification, hoping I may understand the truth, urging for quick correction if I’m in the wrong with the working conclusions I’ve been going through.
Even within the secular, non-Christian world, there’s a loose belief that it’s acceptable to let somebody slip away from you if you truly love them. In the church world, it’s been reversed; because of the number of people who have “poured their lives out” for us, there’s a hidden unspoken word that demands we remain true to the supposed values they spent their time indoctrinating us with, with quick labeling of spiritual rebellion for those who stray from this path.
“Well, you were living in sin during that time” a quick write-off that seemed to forget the fact that I had a pulse during several years of my life where poor choices seemed to be the only choice I made, on a surface level, anyway. Looking back at these times, I used to be deeply hurt by the choices I made. However, as I grow older, I’m seeing the forest for the trees now, realizing I at least made choices unpopular to those who grew up around me. We often forget that all of us experience life, through daily choices, actions, and experiences. We mentally place the lives of others in “storybook” mode, until we have the opportunity to speak firsthand with them. This may be a blog of its own.
Long-winded, yes. Organized, no. Bring it in, Plaat.
Identity. The only word that has two I’s in it, yet has been societally presupposed to have nothing to do with an individual. Rather, it has been replaced by exterior elements which have stepped outside of their boundary and attempted to become core elements of who an individual is. I am I.
I’m not a christian anymore than I am a BMW. Think about the statement; “Christian” was a term coined to identify those who chose to follow Christ; a label given to individuals who chose to devote their lives to Christ. In those days, it was a death sentence. In today’s world, it means you maintain a nice personality, drive a mini van, and have loose adherence to ethical values that you learn on Sunday mornings.
Labeling oneself allows the label to define you. I prefer to define the label. Does the man drive the car, or does the car drive the man? Does the man wear the suit, or does the suit wear the man? Does the man wear his ‘Christian’ label, or does the label wear the man?
When I die and an standing before the Creator, I pray I am able to present my life as one that counted the cost of following His word, and did it. Wearing a Steelers jersey doesn’t make you a professional athlete any more than calling yourself a Christian means you have a real relationship/connection with God. If I am to burn in hell for throwing off my jersey so I can run faster, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.
In the bible, we are told to consider the cost of building a tower; know what is required in order to have a strong structure. It would be stupid to engage in the building process before having a strong foundation. Faith is no different; one can only go as high as their foundation is strong.
While my path may not be perfect, and I may tend to stumble along the path that has yet to be completely uncovered, I want the purpose and passion behind my life to be a pursuit, respect, and love for my Creator.
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