I believe in You…not so much in me

(Pho­to by Karen)

That is the crux of my spir­i­tu­al con­flict. I get it. Jesus died for me. Believ­ing in Him, I have life ever­last­ing. I have been sealed in Him by the gift of His Holy Spir­it. He is here with me right this minute. He offers me liv­ing water—the bread of life—abundant liv­ing. I see the genius of the plan. I am all in. I am a Christian.

Then I look back at myself. Sigh. I’ve been a Chris­t­ian for 44 years. So many of my weak­ness­es still seem so present. A lack of self-discipline—a gift for self-absorption—an incli­na­tion to keep rela­tion­ships superficial—a stingi­ness of spirit—the list goes depress­ing­ly on. It is hard to ignore the lack of progress. Such reflec­tions lead to lin­ger­ing doubt.

The evi­dence of my fam­i­ly his­to­ry has not done much to dis­pel the doubt. Both of my par­ents passed away as unbe­liev­ers. My moth­er, defin­i­tive­ly (she claimed to be a Mus­lim, but I nev­er saw a shred of evi­dence), my father a bit more equiv­o­cal­ly. His last words on the sub­ject (after read­ing Mere Chris­tian­i­ty, which I had giv­en him): “I’ll become a Christian—all you have to do is con­vince your moth­er.” I have one broth­er and four sisters—all have pros­pered in life—all are hap­pi­ly retired, rel­a­tive­ly healthy, active­ly engaged in their worlds—none of them are believ­ers. If my life is sup­posed to be a tes­ta­ment, it cer­tain­ly hasn’t had much of an effect. We are all get­ting old; the next world is on the who-can-say-how-dis­tant future. I love my broth­er and sisters.

My friend (and for­mer stu­dent) Tay­lor John­son has writ­ten a won­der­ful book called In the Alto­geth­er (avail­able at Ama­zon). It has remind­ed me of things I def­i­nite­ly believe are true, like…it is as impor­tant to acknowl­edge our weak­ness­es after we become Chris­tians as it was before…being vul­ner­a­ble is just admit­ting who we real­ly are…no man is an island (which I first learned from Simon and Garfunkel’s “I am a rock.”) But the most impor­tant thing is that we can approach God exact­ly as we are—He wel­comes it.

So where are we now? Me try hard­er or You do more? I rec­og­nize my own lib­er­al pro­cliv­i­ty: I’ve always been drawn more to the God is love than the God is holy side of it. Both are utter truth. Some­times I won­der if I need to quit doing things or start doing things? Is this a process?

The same as always, I leave it in Your hands—just like I leave my mom and dad and broth­er and sis­ters in Your hands. Should I stop believ­ing? Absurd! It would be like going out naked in a snow­storm. If I don’t have You, I don’t have any­thing. Paul said: “…if Christ has not risen, we are the most of all men to be pitied…” I stand by that.

The key is perspective…my prob­lem start­ed with the first sen­tence of the sec­ond para­graph. The evi­dence of my life ver­i­fies Your pres­ence. I was wan­der­ing aim­less­ly and You touched me and changed my direction…You taught me to love and be loved. My life became mean­ing­ful, and also a won­der­ful adven­ture. How can I not believe? Lead on, Lord Jesus.

Comments

  • Yes
    John 6:66–69
    I too believe and know and follow

    Kathy5 November, 2019

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