Trial by fire
You ever notice that when you're working hard to get on track with anything, that it seems the odds stack against you?
I don't know what to call what I've been desiring lately...words just don't describe it. Maybe spiritual revitalization...rebirth...revival...awakening...passion... All of these, yet none of these words describe what I want to see happening in my life and what I believe has been started.
Whatever this un-name-able thing is, all my efforts took a difficult turn today. Monday hit in true form...worse than normal. The day began okay, though I was feeling the effects of yet another night where sleep seemed elusive.
The normal snafus were in place: Potential scheduling conflicts, surprise bills in the mail, crying kids...though these things are pretty routine.
On the other hand, some things have happened lately (which I won't elaborate about here) that have really got my mind racing. In the midst of so much goodness happening in my life, the floodwaters of problems (or potential problems) have already begun seeping under the doorway into my world.
On top of this, my creativity (a job requirement) became stifled. Such is always the case when my head is filled with distracting thoughts - no room left for imagination. At least not the kind of imagination that doesn't merit an R-rating for violence.
Then came the headache. Not a pounding headache, but the kind of dull throb that feels as if the pressures of the world were given physical form and inserted into the space where my frontal lobe meets the inside of my skull.
...
My humanity recognizes this as weakness. My soul recognizes it as a form of spiritual attack. Either way, I've let crap get to me. I'm not thick-skinned enough. I dwell too much on the B.S. happening around me. And my desire to see Christ/be Christ has met its first real challenge...and surely not the last. And here is where the mettle of my determination is put to the test...
So many times today I've wanted to throw up my hands and scream... Or just lay down and go to sleep until Tuesday. Or cry out sarcastically, "Thanks God...thanks for this lousy day. Why now?"
But each time I want to throw in the towel, this thought keeps going through my head: "If I want to see Christ, I need to be Christ. If I want to be Christ, then I need to see Christ." Just two weeks ago, hearing this phrase spoken...and reading it in a book...shook something inside me back to life...
...
So now...what does that mean when I'm no longer swept up in the moment of epiphany? What does it mean when things really start to get tough? Does it mean adopting that stupid, fake Enzyte-Bob smile worn by so many Christians pretending to be happy because they're supposed to be but aren't?
No.
Somehow...without it feeling sappy or symptomatic of a martyr complex...I now realize that I did see Christ in my day. I saw his suffering. And it made me laugh at the things I call "suffering."
It's so easy to dismiss these days as spiritually-draining. Yet, ironically, it's during these days I'm most reflective...and more aware of my own pitiful existense as a human being. In short, it's these days that prove to me my need for God and for grace and for something more than these 70 or so years I'll call my life.
It's that Gethsemane moment of awareness that even this un-name-able rebirth/revitalization/awakening thing happening in my life will be a tough road...
But I'm beginning to realize that the tough roads are more Christ-like than easy ones. Why? His life was filled with joy, but the road was always tough...and he faced some horrific tough times, to say the least.
It's easy to find joy on a good day when the sun's shining, I don't have a headache, and everything works like clockwork. But it's much harder to find joy on days like today. But as I sit here, thinking about everything, I managed to somehow see Christ in the midst of it... Maybe it wasn't the Jesus sitting happily under a tree telling stories to children. Maybe it was the bloodied, beat-up, crucified Christ...
But in that image of suffering, I see hope...and I see how much love was given to me.
If I'd recognized this earlier, maybe I could've turned the day around...If I'd recognized Christ in my midst at that moment, maybe I would've been more successful at "being" him...instead of wallowing in my own self-pity.
I suddenly feel very ridiculous.
Now, I'm reminded I'm usually looking for Christ in all the wrong places. Or at least...with all the wrong expectations. I've swallowed that faulty Christian presupposition that the only real encounters with Christ are happy and fuzzy experiences. Arrogance run amok.
Now I'm aware (again) of how many barriers really keep me from seeing Christ...how it's not so much the circumstances around me, but me.
This awareness keeps hope of my ongoing, indescribable revival...alive.
I don't know what to call what I've been desiring lately...words just don't describe it. Maybe spiritual revitalization...rebirth...revival...awakening...passion... All of these, yet none of these words describe what I want to see happening in my life and what I believe has been started.
Whatever this un-name-able thing is, all my efforts took a difficult turn today. Monday hit in true form...worse than normal. The day began okay, though I was feeling the effects of yet another night where sleep seemed elusive.
The normal snafus were in place: Potential scheduling conflicts, surprise bills in the mail, crying kids...though these things are pretty routine.
On the other hand, some things have happened lately (which I won't elaborate about here) that have really got my mind racing. In the midst of so much goodness happening in my life, the floodwaters of problems (or potential problems) have already begun seeping under the doorway into my world.
On top of this, my creativity (a job requirement) became stifled. Such is always the case when my head is filled with distracting thoughts - no room left for imagination. At least not the kind of imagination that doesn't merit an R-rating for violence.
Then came the headache. Not a pounding headache, but the kind of dull throb that feels as if the pressures of the world were given physical form and inserted into the space where my frontal lobe meets the inside of my skull.
...
My humanity recognizes this as weakness. My soul recognizes it as a form of spiritual attack. Either way, I've let crap get to me. I'm not thick-skinned enough. I dwell too much on the B.S. happening around me. And my desire to see Christ/be Christ has met its first real challenge...and surely not the last. And here is where the mettle of my determination is put to the test...
So many times today I've wanted to throw up my hands and scream... Or just lay down and go to sleep until Tuesday. Or cry out sarcastically, "Thanks God...thanks for this lousy day. Why now?"
But each time I want to throw in the towel, this thought keeps going through my head: "If I want to see Christ, I need to be Christ. If I want to be Christ, then I need to see Christ." Just two weeks ago, hearing this phrase spoken...and reading it in a book...shook something inside me back to life...
...
So now...what does that mean when I'm no longer swept up in the moment of epiphany? What does it mean when things really start to get tough? Does it mean adopting that stupid, fake Enzyte-Bob smile worn by so many Christians pretending to be happy because they're supposed to be but aren't?
No.
Somehow...without it feeling sappy or symptomatic of a martyr complex...I now realize that I did see Christ in my day. I saw his suffering. And it made me laugh at the things I call "suffering."
It's so easy to dismiss these days as spiritually-draining. Yet, ironically, it's during these days I'm most reflective...and more aware of my own pitiful existense as a human being. In short, it's these days that prove to me my need for God and for grace and for something more than these 70 or so years I'll call my life.
It's that Gethsemane moment of awareness that even this un-name-able rebirth/revitalization/awakening thing happening in my life will be a tough road...
But I'm beginning to realize that the tough roads are more Christ-like than easy ones. Why? His life was filled with joy, but the road was always tough...and he faced some horrific tough times, to say the least.
It's easy to find joy on a good day when the sun's shining, I don't have a headache, and everything works like clockwork. But it's much harder to find joy on days like today. But as I sit here, thinking about everything, I managed to somehow see Christ in the midst of it... Maybe it wasn't the Jesus sitting happily under a tree telling stories to children. Maybe it was the bloodied, beat-up, crucified Christ...
But in that image of suffering, I see hope...and I see how much love was given to me.
If I'd recognized this earlier, maybe I could've turned the day around...If I'd recognized Christ in my midst at that moment, maybe I would've been more successful at "being" him...instead of wallowing in my own self-pity.
I suddenly feel very ridiculous.
Now, I'm reminded I'm usually looking for Christ in all the wrong places. Or at least...with all the wrong expectations. I've swallowed that faulty Christian presupposition that the only real encounters with Christ are happy and fuzzy experiences. Arrogance run amok.
Now I'm aware (again) of how many barriers really keep me from seeing Christ...how it's not so much the circumstances around me, but me.
This awareness keeps hope of my ongoing, indescribable revival...alive.
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