What is my law?

One of my many struggles relates to justifying myself to the world. I cannot claim to believe that the world continually demands evidence of righteousness. This particular neurosis is of my own creation. A supervisor once commented to me that I am someone that always needs to “have pelts nailed to the wall.” He was a hunter, and his point was that I refused to believe that, lacking tangible evidence of something created, I was accepted by my colleagues. I harbor a perpetual need to hold something up (almost literally) as proof that I belong, that I matter, that I should be valued. Participating in meetings is insufficient. I feel considerable discontinuity with life if it has been more than a few days since I have indirectly reminded people that my presence is a net positive to the world.

I think this mental and emotional fragility is part of the reason that I struggle with the gospel. The idea that I don’t have to do anything to justify God’s grace is practically impossible for me to fully absorb. I just read Galatians. The concept that stuck in my head revolved around Paul’s explanation that those who continue to rely on the law have fallen away from grace. If they rely on the law, they have to rely on it fully. They cannot both follow the law as a means to salvation and claim that they believe the good news. The two concepts are mutually exclusive.

I feel for the Jewish community that was trying to adapt to a different way of believing. Changing how someone believes around any random topic is challenging. People believe what they believe. Look no further than our current political climate as evidence. Changing how one believes about the eternal afterlife must be agonizingly hard. If every person at the time had witnessed Christ’s miracles, things may have been at least somewhat easier. But even then, we read that there were many who continued to turn toward traditional methods of worship in spite of having seen first hand the clear evidence of Jesus’s divinity. Handed down through ancestors, the law was how they structured their lives for centuries. Dismissing it as no longer necessary must have been torturous. I can imagine the apoplexy some would exhibit today if a charismatic speaker started gaining public support (at least here in the US) through explaining why the Bible was somehow incorrect, and we Christians have to change the way we believe in order to secure our eternity. That would be a tall hurdle to say the least.

I grew up in a Christian environment (well, sort of). It took me a long time to truly start following my faith, but I at least had the advantage of being told about the gospel for many years. Given that fact, it is interesting to me how hard it is for me to accept it fully. What is the (unwritten) law that I am constantly trying to satisfy? To what am I clinging in hopes of somehow showing God that I am worthy? No, I did not witness Jesus’s miracles, but his message has been part of my culture for as long as I can remember. I have been told more times than I could possibly count that my salvation is secured through faith; that aside from devoting my life to Jesus, there is nothing I can do to solidify my justification. I do not have to continually show God why I deserve my spot in heaven. I do not have to keep updating the CV of my life in order to make the best case for my soul.

Whether it is among my family, friends, coworkers, or creator, I am on a search to truly feel the release of living with the full assurance that I deserve what has been freely given to me.

Lord, please watch over me and fill me with your spirit. Fill me with the understanding that my life was bought and paid for through your sacrifice. Refusing to fully accept this gift is nothing short of an insult to you. It is like I am saying that your blood just was not precious enough to justify my existence in your home. This is so far from my belief that it is painful to even contemplate, let alone write. Help me learn to relax and know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, and that you are so happy with the young man you embraced as your child.

What is so urgent?

In the immortal words of the band, “Alabama”:

I’m in a hurry to get things done;
Oh, I rush and rush until life’s no fun.
All I really gotta do is live and die;
But I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.

This is a sort of family joke about how I approach, well, everything. If I’m driving someplace, I bounce around lanes, thinking I’m going to find a lane that will get me to my destination maybe one to two minutes faster. If I’m watching television, people in the room can hear an audible sigh when a 45 second commercial break pops up – and I mean I do it every single time. In these moments, I’m not really all that disturbed, at least not on an emotional level. The moment of annoyance dissipates fast (although, the new negative energy I spewed into the room may be felt by my family a tad longer). However, this involuntary reaction to life’s moments seeps into areas that are less innocuous to, and more lasting on, my emotional state.

An example happened just last night. I was walking around the grocery store with my daughter. We needed to stop by the pharmacy and discuss a problem with one of the prescriptions that we received. We had to wait to speak to the pharmacist, and we waited almost a half-hour. Nothing was resolved, so we turned to leave. Annoying, to be sure, but again, just one of life’s many moments. Sometimes things work out well. Sometimes they don’t. That’s easy for my brain to process this morning as I’m thinking about it over a keyboard. But in that moment; while it was happening; something clicked into gear for me. I became conscious of the waste of time, and I began feeling shame for forcing my daughter to wait 30 minutes just to see me fail. However, I could not just leave the store. I had one item I was holding that I needed to buy. But my brain had already started descending into irrational brain.

As I was walking, my daughter had to remind me that I was holding something and couldn’t just leave. I had to actually pay for it. I chuckled through my embarrassment and released irrational brain to just go ahead and flip over into free-fall mode. I began walking really fast (outpacing my daughter by several steps); trying to find the shortest line; thinking about whether I should go to self-checkout or stand in a line where a guy had only four or five items. Could I get all the way to self-checkout, finish, then walk back in less time? Which is the right decision? If I make the wrong one, what will my daughter think of me after such a debacle of an effort?

Obviously, it is easy for someone with a rational mind to see that episode and roll their eyes and just say, “Seriously? That’s just life. Stuff happens. It wasn’t a fail. It was errand.” Rationality seems to mysteriously evaporate when I’m “in charge” of things. Suddenly, the world is looking at me, and I need to illustrate my competence in all areas. I need…yes, something in me needs to be seen as the person who can take care of you. When things don’t play out (and hey, that is simply part of life), I am emotionally transported back to my childhood when I felt small and insignificant. My trip through this neurotic wormhole strips me of my ability to simply be calm and assured about how I exist in the world. I suddenly feel like the world is seeing me as little more than a warning for others – “See kids, this is how not to approach life.”

Clearly, last night and this morning I have been juggling multiple issues that extend well beyond simply being in a hurry. It seems that being in a hurry is my defense mechanism. If I hurry, people do not have to suffer through any possible problems I might create. I start to internally apologize for taking up space. Of course, I don’t voice that sad idea. I just illustrate it through my actions.

Lord, when I am in a position of managing things, please fill me with your assurances of how “fearfully and wonderfully made” I am. Fill me with the spirit of calm and patience. Help me show others that my life is in your hands, and no matter how things work out, my presence in the world is beautiful. Nothing you made can be anything else.

Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced His perfect love. (1 John 4:18)

Where are the plans?

^“11For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. ¹²Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. ¹³You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ¹⁴I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.”

–Jeremiah 29: 11-14

I love this verse. I want it to apply to me. I struggle with the Old Testament simply from the perspective of wondering if it is supposed to apply to me. Was this meant for a group of people in which I have no personal connection? Or was this meant for all believers in Jesus (who had not yet come to earth)? I need to study this idea and learn more about how to apply the Old Testament text to a New Testament faith. It’s all very confusing to me.

Daily, I wake up with a sense of anxiety and dread. It’s something through which I have to walk every morning until the tasks of the day overwhelm my mind. Once I have started working on other things, I turn my attentions away from my regrets and fears, but I know that they they are still there, waiting for me to return every evening. How can I move myself to “feeling” the truth wrapped inside this verse in Jeremiah? How can I make my heart connect with the idea that God really does have a plan for me?

According to that verse (assuming it applies to me, personally), I should know that God has plans to make my life (here on earth) prosperous. I know enough to accept that prosperity is not defined by monetary accumulation. The prosperity I seek relates to the peace that can fill my heart if I only turn my life over to Him. If I can learn to be grateful for simply being His child, I can find the prosperity that fulfills. Money would pale in comparison.

God, I’m seeking you. I want to find you. I am calling on you and praying to you. I want to know the peace that can come from understanding that I am a part of your plans. My brain cannot necessarily comprehend the nuances of your plans, but I know that you are working on them. I know that I am part of them, and that you love me. Help me feel protected and safe. Help me connect with you and enjoy this life that is your gift to me. I will choose to think on you today when my anxieties rise up. I will choose to remember that you are my sword and shield. You are my protector. With you by my side, there is nothing that can harm me.

Give me cover, Lord

Psalm 91: 1 – 6 (NIV)

¹Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
²I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

³Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
⁴He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
⁵You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
⁶nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.

My wife recently wrote down several verses for me to memorize. She told me to memorize them because I have been filled with anxiety over my life, and it often manifests as mental torture during the night. I always wake up around 3:00 am, but I don’t need to get up until around 4:45. That means I have been starting my day with almost two hours of mental self-flagellation. She thought this verse would help. It does.

I castigate myself over and over about my past actions and decisions. I finally and utterly gave my life to Jesus a few years ago, but at almost 50, that means I have a backlog of transgressions that consume my mind. It’s exhausting. Whether personal or professional, I can’t stop my mistakes from playing around my cerebral cortex like a video loop from hell.

As a Christian, I do understand that Jesus died so that I could live, and that once I confess with my mouth and believe with my heart (Romans 10:9), my sins are wiped clean, and I am saved for eternity. I can be taught. I can learn. I know the Bible says that once I have given my life, my transgressions are as far away from me as the “East is from the West.” (Psalm 103:12) — I get it. Now to feel it….

How long does it take to feel in my heart the forgiveness that is promised through His word? Does it mean that I didn’t truly give my life? The very idea of “true belief” is hard for me to conceptualize. How do I know that I truly believe? I know it sounds simplistic, but I’m motivated to find forgiveness. I’m motivated to desire a savior. I’m motivated to say the right words.

I have witnessed many times events in my life that “feel” like God moving in and around me. I know He exists. I have never struggled with the idea of “intelligent design”. But just believing in God isn’t enough, is it? How do I know that I believe that Jesus was the manifestation of God? I haven’t studied even a minuscule fraction of the testimonies and documented evidence that I know exists that support the Bible’s representation. But even if I did study it all, my “true belief” would still boil down to faith in something about which I have only read or heard. I wasn’t there. I have to learn to “feel my faith”. I have to find the peace that comes with resting in the belief of Jesus’ words.

I live an agonizing life of shame and guilt; consequences of past decisions. What others recorded as Jesus saying makes sense to me. The words fill me with calm. I’m only a neophyte at learning the Bible, but so much of what He said seems utterly true; truth that I can feel within my innermost being, within my soul. That fact feels like God at work.

God, thank you for walking with me. Thank you for listening to me as I wonder about your awesomeness and how your spirit, your power, can (does) fill my life. As I walk this path, I will continue to seek emotional shelter under your wings. I will continue to find cover from the pain of living with past shames by reading your word. Thank you for providing me a way of soothing my sanctification process. Thank you for providing a balm to ease the suffering I created for myself. Thank you for providing Jesus.