“Your life is a mess. You are a mess. You are a hypocrite, a liar, a fake, and a cynic. Your heart is cold and you’ve come to depend on the transient world for comfort and peace. You lean now on an ever-spinning ball of chaos. It will never hold you. You love it, but it will never love you. The Word of God that you claim to walk by is dusty, buried under stacks of more important things. Each day you wander farther and farther into darkness, occasionally glancing behind you only to find that the light is growing dimmer with each haphazard step. As you slowly, gracefully spiral deeper into the abyss of numbness and self-gratification, the voices of demons call out to you, begging you to trudge deeper in.

It’s cold where you are. You shiver in silence, skillfully molding the mask of a perfect man. People stare at you sometimes. “Look at him,” they say, “He’s got everything under control.” It’s a lie, but you smile and string them along. At this point, you reason, vulnerability is not an option. They know you as something better than what you truly are and it would be a shame to let them down. With each step into oblivion the mask grows heavier. It’s becoming harder and harder to look yourself in the face. Your neck is stiff as you continue your death march. Slowly, step by step, you die a little more.

Then you stop. You remember how you used to love, how you used to live. In a small, weak voice you whisper a prayer. It is faint, barely audible, but you beg for your life back; you beg for your love back. Finally fully disgusted with what you have become, you beg to be rescued. Your knees hit wet gravel and mud, as tears blur the darkness. A voice behind you screams your name. It sounds familiar, but it’s been so long since you last spoke to its owner. You wait, something pulls you back, but you stand your ground. Jesus screams your name yet again, closer this time. Staring straight ahead into the blackness you scream back, “You left me! You said you’d never leave, but you left me.” A hand rests on your shoulder, “You left me,” He says calmly. You try to turn about to face the light, but you find that you can’t. You fall to your knees and in a flash of chaos are lifted by powerful arms. Exhausted, you lie helplessly in the arms of your Savior. You try to speak, but words won’t come. You see the flitting shadows of demons around. Finally words penetrate your tired lips, “They want me here,” you say. “But you are mine,” He smiles as He says the words, “And we’re going home.”  ”

I’ve been doing life with this girl for a while now and we have some very deep conversations that often lead me to realizations about life and God that astonish me.  Several weeks ago, she and I were on the phone and the subject of “everything happens for a reason” came up.  Sitting on the edge of my bed, staring into the dark, I tried to explain to her why I believed that God could not and would not will things into our lives that would cause us suffering, that he might “allow” it, but that a good God was incapable of inflicting suffering, even indirectly, on His children.  She listened patiently as I rambled on about how evil in our own lives led to suffering in our lives and the lives of those around us, and how ultimately we were the ones in control.  When I had finished, she said very calmly something that went like this:

“We definitely disagree on that.  I can honestly say that everything in my life has led me to this point, and that God has a plan for me that involves some pain and suffering.  I don’t know how I feel about predestination, but the God that loves me has not and will not leave me to my own devices or the devices of others.  He may not directly cause me pain, but He let’s it happen because it is good for me.  He is in control, not us.”

So of course, since she challenged a long held and cherished part of my theology, I became defensive and, as usual, we agreed to disagree.  But that conversation planted a seed in me.

About a year prior to that conversation, I had begun a process of relying on God instead of my own understanding.  I was slowly unwrapping the box that I had neatly stowed God in and piece by piece, the wrapping paper of my own self-serving theologies (the ones that involved me supporting my own ideas with scripture rather than allowing God’s word to form the foundation of my thought process) were slowly falling to the ground.

About a week after that conversation I was blessed with the opportunity to go to Europe with my family for a sight-seeing tour/retreat from reality, and that’s when things really started to change in me.  God took that opportunity to pull me away from all my comforts: my free time, my girl, my food, my bed, my entertainment, even my sleep, and somewhere between the flight to France and the flight back to the States, God broke out of His box.  All of the things on top of which I had based my inconsistent philosophies and theologies were gone and I had no towers of preconceived ideas left to support.  So I started rebuilding everything about my faith.  This time from the ground up.  I tore into the Bible like a hungry child into a box of animal crackers.  I soaked up the scripture with new eyes and a new heart, both wide open to the truth.  I didn’t realize how truth-deprived I had become and it was like I had finally stopped denying the cravings in me.

I realized three major things right off the bat: first, that I am not in control of anything but my own attitudes, actions and reactions; second, that the point of my life is simply to be loved and in turn be love; and third, that everything happens for a reason.  Since I was basically out of communication with everyone, I couldn’t wait to tell my girl about all the things that God had been doing in me during my time on another continent.  When I told her that last bit, that I had changed my mind, that I realized that everything happened for a reason, that God had and still has a plan, she smiled this big, “I told you so, darlin” smile and gave me a long hug.  It was comforting to know, in that moment, that even if I didn’t always feel like it, that God was quietly working everything for my good.  That I no longer had to regret my past, but simply rest in the fact that God was in control in those dark times in my life.  It was this beautiful peace that I cannot accurately explain.

All that to say, I don’t need to delete the old posts.  They are a part of my story, the story that I am not writing, the story that God is writing, the one in which I am just a character, albeit a main one, not the author.  The old posts, the ones that embarrass me, serve as a reminder that God uses everything in my life, even my sins and idiocy, for my benefit if I trust Him.  It’s wonderful to relinquish control.  I like to think of it this way: we’re in a car, me and God.  I’m in the back seat, strapped into my car seat, with my bright red “Fisher Price” steering wheel in my lap.  I can honk the squeeky horn on that thing and crank it this way and that all I want, but reality is, I’m in the backseat with a plastic steering wheel that isn’t even attached to anything.  God is driving, and He’s whistling a comforting song while He drives along.  I can throw a fit, kick, scream, throw my sippy cup, whatever I please, but it won’t change anything.  God is still driving.  And when I stop messing with that little red wheel, I can enjoy my juice, look out the window at the scenery, and fearlessly acknowledge others around me.  Release your vicegrip on life, on the past, and on the future.  Accept that you are not in control.  Be still and let God drive.

Let’s get something straight before anyone reads anything of minute value, though, I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m just sharing mine. In fact, I welcome your thoughts. Really, I just want you to think. Then share your thoughts. We don’t do that enough. We bottle up what we think and feel until it overflows in grand displays of horrific action. We try so hard not to offend people that we drown ourselves in the process.  On the contrary, I hope I offend you, not because of rudeness or inappropriate references, but because you see some glimmer of truth in the words I write and it makes you evaluate what it is you believe.  Because it’s what’s happening to me and I want to share it. I’m getting offended and I’m getting my walls broken down and my face ripped off by truth, and it’s changing me in ways I never imagined. So read on, if you want. Share your thoughts on my thoughts. Call me an idiot. Call me a cynic, a liar, a sinner, and an egotistical control freak. Offend me. Hopefully you’ll only be returning the favor.

Why do I consistently find reasons to grieve myself?  My life is good.  I have no reason to complain.  I just want what was and will never be again.  I feel like I’m standing on top of a mountain looking ahead at all that life has for me, but all I want to do is climb back down.  Can’t we just rewind to four months ago and pause?  Why can’t things be different?  Why do I always wish things were different?  I know I just need to pick myself up and quit being idyllic.  For goodness’ sake, I pride myself in being a realist.  

For a while there, I thought everyone was changing, acting differently.  Now I’m realizing that it might just be me.  And so I fall farther and farther.  I feel like I’m at the end of my rope half the time, but I’m not stressed, I’m not scared, I’m not sick, I’m not anything.  I’ll be okay.  I’ll be fine.  I just need some time.

I guess I’ll figure things out in time.  God hasn’t left me, but it kind of feels that way sometimes.   I just need some purpose.  

I need to stop being my own biggest critic.  I’m not my own worst enemy, there are much worse out there.  I hope this isn’t normal, because I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anybody.  

What happened to peace of mind?  Needless to say, it’s out the window in the meantime.  It hurts tonight.

Anyway, with the end of the semester rapidly approaching and everyone wondering how it’s already almost over, I can’t help but feel like time moves so much faster here.  Days feel like hours, hours like minutes.  That isn’t necessarily a good thing in my eyes.  Weeks fly by and once the weekend arrives I feel like I haven’t really done anything, like I’m just wandering along, going through the motions.  Four months ago, I had all my ducks in a row.  Now half my ducks are dead and the rest are running around, and it kind of feels like I’m sitting in the middle of it all just watching it happen.  I want to chase some of them, but at the same time, I think maybe I should let them go and see what the eggs have to hold.  I guess this is normal, but I feel like I’m just wasting tie until something amazing happens…

It seems like I’ve known her forever.  I loved every minute of being with her, when we weren’t dating and when we were.  The worst part is that I actually love this girl.  If I hated her, if she ever annoyed me, or if there was something about her that I just couldn’t stand, I probably wouldn’t feel like crying my eyes out and running laps around my house at the same time.  What I’m feeling is almost unexplainable.  It hurts unlike just about anything I have ever felt in my life.  But, at the same time, I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders.  I might have lost my girlfriend tonight, but I found a new best friend.

Right now, I should be in class.  Oh, well.  Up til 1:00 last night and Government was about the last thing I needed this morning.  I really don’t know what to expect this weekend.  I’m excited, but a little hesitant about a few things.  I don’t want to get that, just that I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. 

Grades are still good.  I have more time to play my guitar now, too, and I’ve been trying to do some more writing.  That and learning covers comprises most of my free time activity. 

It was hard leaving and I still long for another year of high school occasionally.  I guess things just have to change sometimes, and this time there’s nothing I can do about it.

Here’s an analogy.  Let’s say there is an investor.  He hopes that a certain stock will go up, but he doesn’t know for sure, so he invests only what he can afford to lose and that’s it.  Now, let’s say that same investor knows that a certain stock will go up.  Does he invest cautiously?  No way.  He spends his life savings and then some to buy up as much of it as he can. 

I hear people all the time talking about how they wish they could give their whole selves to the kingdom of God.  I heard it tonight.  What’s holding them back?  Most people hope that God will come through, but really aren’t too sure one way or the other, and so they only give what they can afford to lose.  Here’s the thing:  God is real.  He does have a plan for your life.  He loves you.  He wants the best for you.  Give Him everything, He will come through.  Just believe.

“…faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)

Funny thing happened last night.  I had one of those rare “moments of clarity” around 3 AM.  It’s one of those things that just kind of sneaks up on you, totally unprovoked, and suddenly you catch a glimpse of the world as it is and how it should be.  Anyway, I wake up and my room is dark except for the moonlight shining through the slats in my blinds.  I catch a glimpse of the clock and it hits me:  I am alive.  That sounds crazy, I know.  But the simple realization that I was alive was suddenly extremely reassuring.  This is probably going to sound a little too “New Age” for some people, but it came to me in that moment, that every bad, inconvenient, or undesirable thing in life, short of death, is fleeting.  The fears and failures of the present moment are temporary, so there is no need to dwell on them. 

It seemed to me that I had been taking something so simple for granted for so long.  The very fact that I was alive and breathing meant that God was not done with me yet.  Until the day that we die, God is not done with us.  Each day is new, each moment is new.  Every minute that we still draw breath is filled with opportunities to be used by God.  Don’t waste the days in fear like I have for so long.  Ask God to show you what He wants you to do, then be willing to do it.  We are not wasting away until we allow ourselves to waste away.

“So be careful how you live. Don’t live like fools, but like those who are wise.  Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days.  Don’t act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do.” Ephesians 5:15-17