Conversations with God

God and I have been exchanging some words lately. Those of you who don't believe that God exists will probably think I'm crazy. Those of you who do will probably be offended at the nature of my conversations with Him. But that's ok. I'm not trying to impress anyone, least of all God. He knows it all anyway.

When I say that we've been exchanging words, what I really mean in that I've been yelling at him and expressing my disappointment and anger at the way certain things in my life have panned out. He's mostly been listening patiently, I think. Sometimes, I tell him that I don't trust Him and don't think He has a good plan for my life. Other times, I ask Him if He's even real or cares about what I'm going through. Do the details of my life matter, or are they just the way things go? When everything falls apart and my life feels like a giant clusterfuck, is He still faithful? Is there purpose in chaos and pain? It all feels pretty meaningless right now.

Everyone always shares words of wisdom about how one day, I'll look back over this time in my life and see why things happened the way they did. In fact, I tell myself that from time to time, partially because I believe it, but mostly because I'm trying to make myself feel better. Sometimes I wonder.

I guess these questions and my response to the difficulties that I'm facing reveal a shallow faith. His sovereignty and love for me are not reflected only in the good aspects of my life. They're woven throughout the pain and the doubt and the fear too. He sits with me in the shit and understands what I'm feeling and is working even now. At least that's what I'm trying to believe. The only other alternative- that He doesn't exist and isn't sovereign and doesn't care about the details of my life- is far worse than anything I'm experiencing.

This is me processing out loud. Take it for what it is, or leave it. It's where I am right now.

Wherever You Are, Be All There

I'm currently reading a book by Ann Voskamp called One Thousand Gifts. The author, who has been diagnosed with cancer, shares her journey of learning to live more fully and deeply, of soaking up all that life has to offer-both the good and the bad-and experiencing true joy. In her reflections on life-on the often mundane and unexciting daily tasks required of us- and the painful experiences-the loss and regret that we all to often cloak ourselves in-she explores the possibility of practicing thankfulness (eucharisteo) and how true and intentional thankfulness in all circumstances can transform our lives and leave us more fulfilled than we ever imagined possible. Perhaps a bit cliche, and she's certainly not the first to propose the idea, but I think there's something for all of us in this search for fulfillment and contentment.

I'm 69 pages in and have really been struck by some of the things she writes and how she writes them. So honest and so simple, yet so profound. Perhaps it's because I've been feeling short of words as of late, or perhaps it's because her words ring true in my life and have reminded me of who I want to be when I grow up. In the few pages that I read tonight, this line stood out to me most: "Wherever you are, be all there." Honest and simple, yet profound. Be all there.

This is something that I've struggled with quite a bit in my life, particularly the past few years. I think that the "Wherever you are" has not necessarily been the "Where you want to be" for me. Of course, if you asked me where I want to be, I don't know if I could tell you. Knowing myself (which I like to take credit for every once in a while), I'd probably respond by saying "anywhere but here." Isn't that the truth? There's always a destination, an aspiration, a goal to be achieved. There's always a greener lawn and a bluer sky and warmer sun. A better job. A more exciting chapter in life. And there's usually discontentment and daydreaming and wishing for a different "wherever you are."

But where's the thankfulness? And where's the joy? And the contentment? Is that something that's being practiced? Where's the eucharisteo? This is where I am. In Philly. Ardmore, to be exact. I'm at my job, and I'm at my church, and I'm in my bedroom that's smaller than I want it to be. And I'm single. But am I present? Am I here? Am I living in the moment and soaking up the experiences and investing in the people and opportunities around me? To the fullest? Am I engaged? I think that's my goal for this year. To be more engaged. Not the kind that comes with a shiny ring, but the kind that comes comes with practicing eucharisteo for the little things and the big things, the kind that can even be thankful for the speed bumps and potholes along the way, because those are part of the journey, and they are part of the "wherever you are." They are part of where I am. And while I suspect that I will always be hopeful for a warmer sun, I'm going to try to be more intentional about enjoying my current view. Kind of like a daffodil bud patiently waiting out the winter, taking it in for what it offers, in anticipation of spring.

I'll end with this line from her book:

"Thanksgiving-giving thanks in everything-is what prepares the way for salvation's whole restoration. Our salvation in Christ is real, yet the completeness of that salvation is not fully realized in a life until the life realizes the need to give thanks. In everything?"

Yes, in everything.

Do You Trust Me?

Do you trust me?

Of course I trust you. How can you ask me that? I trust you. I know that you’re going to work this out for me. But can I just ask you something? How? And when?

Do you trust me?

Yes, I told you I trust you. But how are you going to do it? When is it going to happen? Will it be soon? I’m not seeing any light at the end of the tunnel, and I’m reaching the end of my rope. Can you hurry?

Do you trust me?

Most of the time. I’m doing my best to remember your promises. You’ve been faithful in the past, so why would the present or the future be any different? But why? Why am I going through this? Am I supposed to be learning a profound life lesson? When will I be done learning?

Do you trust me?

I think so. But sometimes I can’t see you in any of it. And it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. What’s the point of all of this anyway? You promise to work all things out for my good, but I can’t seem to find the good in what’s happening. Am I missing something here?

I am Yahweh, the first and the last. I created the universe. I tell the waves where to stop and the sun when to rise. I water the earth with rains in the spring. I clothe the lilies of the valley with splendor and feed the birds of the air. I intricately formed you when you were in your mother’s womb and know every detail about you. Those freckles on your nose that you don’t like very much: I made those. Those tears you cried late at night: I caught those in my hands. Those times you felt like you couldn’t take another step: I carried you. Those prayers you prayed that didn’t seem to be answered: I heard every single one of them. And those times you felt as though you would never make it out of your situation: I blew your mind with what I can handle.

And so I ask you… Do you trust me?

God is Bigger than the Bullshit Part 2

Have you ever had one of those days where most things in life seemed to be falling apart? I've been having one of those months. Yesterday, I wrote about the fact that despite all of the crap that we experience, God is in control and will bring us through it. I'm feeling less sure of that today. Every time I feel like my heart is healing or I'm trusting a little bit more, I get shoved to the ground again. It's seriously getting ridiculous. I know that God promises not to give us more than we can handle, but I feel like I can't handle it anymore. It's not as if the things that are happening to me aren't normal, but it's the way they're happening and the timing that are pushing me to my limit. Am I being punished for something? Is God testing my faith? Or are these all just random coincidences that happen to shake me to my core? I don't know, but I'm getting tired of it.

The book of Job seems to be the story of my life these days (or at least today). "If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales! It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas- no wonder my words have been impetuous (hence the 'bullshit'). The arrows of the Almighty are in me, my spirit drinks in their poison; God's terrors are marshaled against me... What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient? Do I have the strength of stone (thanks to boot camp, I'm getting close)? Is my flesh bronze (perhaps after a few more hours in the sun)? Do I have the power to help myself, now that success has been driven from me (I've got no strength left)?"

And yet: "He wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal." When does that happen? Can we get that healing process going soon?

God is Bigger than the Bullshit

Some days, that's about as profound as my theology goes. Today is one of those days. I feel as though I'm being sucker punched from every direction. It hurts. I'm bruised and broken and am having a hard time catching my breath. I'm trying to make sense of it all, and yet sense is nowhere to be found. So I find myself clinging to faith.

Even when things appear to be falling apart before my eyes-when life seems to throw curve ball after curve ball-I have to remember this truth. God is bigger than all of it. He's bigger than my job. He's bigger than relationships. He's bigger than location. He's bigger than fears, uncertainties, and confusion. And He's bigger than pain. As long as I can maintain that perspective and remember God's place in the hierarchy of my life, I think I'll be ok.

A friend recently sent me these words of encouragement: "He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." Even the bullshit. He's got that under control too. 

A Constant in the Change

It's been a while since I've written, and I've had a lot to write about, but I've needed some time to process and reflect. This is my attempt at getting back into it again.

Little did I know when I wrote my last blog just how relevant it would be. Shortly after my 25th birthday, things in my life changed significantly. I wasn't looking for the change, and I didn't want the change, but it happened nonetheless. And it shook my up, as change often does. It caused me to experience what I would call an identity crisis. Having a significant part of my life taken away forced me to analyze my situation and to re-think through some of the bigger questions that I suspect many of us are still working through:

Who am I?
Where do I belong?
From whom or what do I derive my worth?
Am I content with where I am in life?
How can I find fulfillment?
How does my faith impact the way I choose to live my life?

These are just a few of the biggies that I've been thinking through lately. Perhaps I should have them answered by now, but we all grow and develop and learn in different ways and at different paces. This is where I am right now. It's a painful process, this journey of self-discovery. But it's a critical one.

Do I have these questions answered yet? No. At least not entirely. I'm more sure of some things and less sure of others, but there is one thing that has been made abundantly clear in this process: God is with me every step of the way. How do I know? Because I've seen it. And I've felt it. And it's awesome. During the time of my deepest pain and confusion, God spoke these words to me in a very cool way (ask for details if you'd like to hear the story), "Ever present, I am never absent, I am always with you." The way this message was delivered to me blew my mind. And God's been doing that lately. He's been blowing my mind.

In my last blog post, I quoted Socrates: "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." What I wrote next was a perfect introduction to this next chapter of my life: "That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with... Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one who knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have."

Truth. I've been experiencing an unexpected and overwhelming sense of peace in all of this change and ambiguity, which is a good place to be. So as I wait for my next move, I'm resting in the knowledge and faith that God will be taking that step with me.

You may be wondering why I choose to be so vulnerable on my blog, and frankly, I often wonder that myself. Being vulnerable is dangerous, but it's also brave and honest and real. And that's what I am. I'm honest and real. Brave is debatable. :)

Recent Ponderings

Over the years, I have discovered that my deepest and most spiritual moments have taken place in nature. Whether I'm hiking through the alps, searching for sand dollars on the beach or laying in a field staring up at the stars, I experience an indescribable sense of peace- a connection with both creation and creator. Despite my constant doubts, the times when my faith seems to fail me and I question the purpose behind life itself, I cannot ignore the feeling that there is so much more than what meets the eye. Beyond the physical realm, there must exist a more powerful force or being that gives order to the chaos and reason to the inexplicable. Regardless of the scientific arguments and political rhetoric that claim to explain life as a mere series of random events, I believe without reservation that there is a level of divinity that exists beyond human comprehension. One can take a relativist stance, but if there is indeed a supreme being who rules over the universe, it seems to me that [His] existence and sovereignty are an absolute truth, regardless of one's personal perception and experience. If a blind man argues that the sky is green, does that make the sky green? My point with all of this (if I have one) is that creation itself speaks of a creator, and if there is a creator, is [He] not creator, and therefore Lord of all?

I'd love to hear your thoughts, as I by no means have this figured out.