One of the greatest freedoms I have found in the past several months is freedom from trusting God.
Let me say that again: it's incredibly freeing to realize that not being able to trust God doesn't make one a bad Christian, doesn't make one a bad person, and isn't the cause of one's problems.
(
I know someone reading this is mustering up their fighting response. Hang onto that for a minute. Keep reading. )
(If this comment is a little incoherent, I apologize. I read your post before drinking a glass of wine, but I wrote the comment after, and I must not have eaten enough for dinner or something because I'm having an unusually hard time making words into sentences. Also, thank you for chatting this afternoon, I always enjoy talking to you so much.)
Reply
What you said about not feeling like you're broken enough to deserve deliverance really struck a chord. I think a lot of us that grew up in Christ have a similar sense of how undramatic or abstract our relationship with God can be.
Yeah. What bugs me is that we don't talk about it. I'm not sure why--I think I have just too often felt that Christ has no answers for those of us who are less broken, that he only came to save those who have been obviously "lost," so what would the point of longing for more be?
But that's something I'm still thinking about and working through. And maybe, if I say it enough, it will allow others to say it, too, and think about it together.
Wine! No, don't worry, the comment was coherent, even if it didn't feel so when you wrote it. :) Thank you, my friend, I love you. *hugs*
Reply
Oh, yikes. I've got the whole 'raised Christian' thing going on, and I've heard this before and felt it and struggled with it. So I feel a burning urge to tackle this one.
It goes like this: being transformed into Christlikeness is more than just getting rid of sin and its effects.
That is, yeah, we have sin in our lives, some of us more than others. But sanctification isn't just pruning the bad: it's growing and blossoming into something completely new. On one hand, sure, the gap between us and perfection is infinitely large, but on the other hand, if God is the God I think he is, then perfection isn't static. I think it is infinitely variable across all dimensions. So perfection wouldn't just look different on two people, it would look different on one person at two points in time.
From another angle: We can't just look at where we've been or how far down we could go. It's not enough. We need to look forward. Then we can see all the marvelous places we can get to, all the things we might be, the goals we can shoot for: the path doesn't end, it just gets better. It's pretty amazing to be pulled up out of the miry clay. It's even more amazing to take flight among the stars. Casting off the "old man" isn't enough, it's the never-ending adventure of putting on the new.
Does that help?
Reply
It's lonely--as I would assume from this comment you know very well. Or maybe you just were lucky enough to be around people who were actually able/willing to see this and talk about it, rather than either 1) not realize it's important or 2) think it's wrong and avoid it altogether.
Reply
Back in college, one of my professors told us that there are three parts of salvation: justification, sanctification, and glorification. The first is the moment we believe, the second is our spiritual walk on Earth, the third happens at death. He explained that the first saves us from the penalty of sin, the second saves us from the power of sin, and the third from the presence of sin. Which did two things for me: it cleared up large parts of the New Testament (esp. Paul vs. James), and it got me thinking about salvation as a process.
We totally need to start talking about the positive side of Christianity. And that we gain things here and now, not just at death.
Reply
Leave a comment