A Part of My Story: Part 1

Somewhere along the line, I got confused. I began to think that walking by faith would remove the vagueness and ambiguities, when in fact it calls me to live in them. I desired much less a mandate that required faith, and much more a guarantee so that in fact faith was never really neccessary. And so I started to live by "the faith" instead of by faith.

Somewhere along the line, I got confused. I began to put my hope in my guarantee of salvation, in the afterlife, and I stopped having hope for this world, for this life. I accepted the fact that the world was going to hell in a handbasket, and rationalized that that was neccessary so that Jesus would return. I forgot that Jesus came to heal the world, to offer springs of living water in the midst of this desert existence. And so my hope gradually left the person of Jesus Christ and moved to having hope in the right doctrines.

Somewhere along the line, I got confused. Love become self serving. It was romanticized, emotionalized, and reduced to seeking some kind of fulfillment for myself. It became a matter of convenience, and I forgot that it involved sacrifice. I forgot that love is a verb, it is serving and giving, it is thinking of The Other before yourself. Love became something I did as long as it was easy, when it needed to be something I did when it was hard. I started to find that loving God was the hard thing; loving God in many ways is the easiest thing, because he is perfect, He is deserving of love unlike everyone else. And when loving God became hard, loving my neighbour became impossible. And so I lost love, unable to love myself, others, or God.

Somewhere on my walk I forgot that God is the rock, and I am just a man who is desperately seeking to build his house on the rock when I can't even tell the difference between rock and sand.

Somewhere on my walk I forgot that Jesus is the vine, and I am the twig that clings to him for dear life.

Somewhere on my walk I forgot that Jesus is the living water, and I am a clay vessel that usually forgets to keep the water flowing, and so I usually make it stale.

Somewhere on my walk I forgot that Jesus baptizes with fire, and I am a wet rag that just refuses to light.

Somewhere on my walk I forgot that the Spirit is like wind, and blows where it wills, and that I am a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by every wind, but hoping to catch the wind of the Holy Spirit.

Now I know that I am a man. Broken, wounded and bleeding. I am a doubter and a skeptic, but I scream out, often in frustration, "Where else can I go? You, Lord, have the words of Life!" And so I kneel before the Lord and cry out into the darkness.

And I know, I know that he hears my cries.

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