Last week I posted a blog entry that I regret ever writing. Not just because it wasn't worded the way I wanted it to be -- the words in my brain don't always cooperate when I want them to coexist peacefully with others on a page -- but also because it was written in the middle of another gale that rocked my faith. It was another all-out cage match between myself and legalism, the latter doing most of the punching, elbowing, and body slamming. I merely played the part of a rag doll.
I really thought I was just getting angry at God again for believing those lies I've already spread out for you all already: that He's just a whip-bearing, hard-as-steel commander who expects us to ServeServeServe until we're too tired to have joy, and then serve some more because that's what He expects of us. I put up my trusty walls again; I crossed my arms in rebellion like a temper-tantrum-oriented toddler and fussily exclaimed, "NO!" (complete with pouting lips and furrowed brow); I said I wasn't going to have it, that life of tired Christianity that I have actively and forcefully resented for the last 1+ year. Then I realized that while I have desired lately to seek God and see Him for who He really is -- without simply believing every quip or easily memorized theology thread strung from the pulpit -- this was spiritual attack. (Satan's pissed.)
I started to fight back. I called the father of lies out on his bull, then reminded myself of the truth that God is love; salvation comes by faith in Christ, not finding myself able to measure up to a list of expectations (Ephesians 2:8). Peace trickled in and eventually took the helm.
I think back on the first entry I wrote and remember wanting to let God "love the hell out of me" but, weeks later, admitting I had no idea how to do that. I think I'm learning that now. (I think.) For me it means risking vulnerability and bringing all those horribly broken and deformed pieces of myself to God; it's trusting that whatever condition I'm in, He loves me. (That's that unfathomably beautiful unconditional love thing that still I'm learning to believe and accept.) As I have said before, my anger doesn't scare Him, and neither do my doubts and questions. I'm not discarded because I don't have it together. He loves the hell out of me. Almost literally. He loves me when I want to turn away from him in rebellion; he loves me when I don't understand him; he loves me regardless. He loves US regardless. That's something we don't hear enough. He. Loves. Us. No facade required. We are a mess of ourselves but He intends to love the hell out of us. Because of that I know I can breathe a sigh of relief and be filled with joy and peace.
Aaaaahhh . . .
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid" (John 14:27, NIV).
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believe in him will not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him" (John 3:16-17, NIV).
