After a long session with my spiritual mentor, she wrapped up our conversation with a bit of advice. “I think it would be a really great idea if you reflected on the fact that you are beloved of God, with every fault in your past, present, and future included. That he knows you will stumble, but loves you and made you uniquely you for a reason.”
Suddenly I found I had a dozen books to read, numerous articles to read through, several facebook posts to peruse, and let me tell you…
those Youtube videos just don’t watch themselves, ya know.
I know many people who say that those of us who are Christian are delusional, ready to live a lie in order to assuage ourselves of the reality of the world.
How I wish, sometimes. Really, how I wish. It would mean my experience would be so much different.
The one where I am shoved up against my broken self and have to acknowledge my inner fears, worries, dreads, anxiety, and past.
The starting point of Christianity is acknowledging we are not the illusions we create about ourselves. Good or bad. All of it is stripped away. Think of Eustace from Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Layers and layers of dragon skin peeled off.
Then he was real.
Wait a minute.
Let me not turn this into a pious pick-me-up post.
There are times (like now) where I am just tired. And the Gospels just make me say “Eh.” I’m worn out. And knowing how much I am loved is actually more of burden than anything else. Trust and intimacy are Lothlorien and I’m in the Battle of Helm’s Deep. Yeah, Gandalf may be coming, but I got fifty orcs in my face right now and my sword swing just isn’t cutting it. (There, for you Lord of the Rings fans, and concluding with a bad pun to boot).
I have friends around the world right now who are traveling the world and experiencing marvelous things. And I feel stuck.
How is this short-tempered, impatient, impulse driven, depressed self supposed to see himself as loved by the Lord? Needed by God? Asked to be part of the communion of saints?
So here’s a post asking for prayers, please. Because I do believe, I do. I cling desperately to that which Christ offers. But sometimes I get tired of holding on, and don’t realize he’s been carrying me for the past forty miles.