Dorie Morgan’s Rising Up
Navigating Twenty-Something Suburban Life
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Archive of "faith" Category
We are not having a baby – It’s better than that.
I usually try to stop myself when I have a “brilliant idea” to blog about “my faith”. I have no problem writing about the church I attend or things that happened in my Sunday School class but I’m really afraid when we cross over into the heavy stuff.
Of course, they are several factors behind this.
1. The first is that I failed miserably in my one and only attempt to write about where I was with my walk with God and I cried every time someone new linked to me to mock me.
2. The second is that I am very fearful of being labeled a “Christian Blogger”. I think there are more than enough Christian bloggers out there and if I’m going to tell you what I believe, its probably going to happen in my kitchen over dinner and not on the internet.
3. But the biggest reason is that I am not always a very good Christian. I do dumb things and I sin and I don’t want to put anything out there that would reflect badly on other Christians who are very good at being Christians. I don’t have illusions of grandeur in that I would damage the whole Christian community by my failures but I do fear that I would damage one child who is not physically related to me by my failures.
(By the way, that last reason is the largest failing of Christianity in my opinion. We have no problem talking about the sins of those who are not saved but we are really afraid to talk about our own big sins. We confess our road rage and our stolen office supplies to accountability groups but very rarely do Christians come to the group as a whole and talk about their jealousy, their hate, their resentments which pepper their lives. There are church communities that are able to have real confession and accountability and I have so much respect for them but I also realize they are the exception and not the rule.)So I keep my mouth shut. Of course there is a problem with this: something big happens and you want to share it with the world but you still really haven’t made the sweeping declaration of faith that logically comes before the big announcement. Sure, the sweeping declaration of faith isn’t really necessary, you’ve been dropping hints the whole time, but you still recognize that it has to be done just in case people were not paying attention.
Here goes: My name is Dorie and I am Christian. I believe in strong faith-based communities rooted in geographical areas. I believe with a missionary spirit in your own home time. I believe God calls us to do his good works in Jesus’ name. I believe Jesus died for my sins and I am forgiven. (I also believe in predestination but I haven’t worked it all out in my head in a way that I can easily and lovingly explain – I am not a theologian).
Which leaves us with the heart of what needs to be said, the big announcement instead of stating the obvious.
We’re planting a church. We’re planting a church in Bristol. We’re planting a church because it turns out it was more than just me that felt called to Bristol. We’re planting a church because we are called to love this community as God loves us.
(For me, the above paragraph is the spiritual equivalent of “We’re having a baby” only Brian and I are not having a baby, we are having a church and other people are involved whereas baby making would be an act that would just be us.)
For the last three months on Sunday nights, a group has been meeting in our living room to share a meal and share worship together. I’ve loved every minute of it, even when I was too tired to get off of the couch. Some of the people I’ve known for a while, others were new faces that are quickly becoming dear friends.
I know it is going to take a lot of work in the months and years ahead but that’s just what happens when you build a community, whether it be online or in person. I am just blessed to say I am on the journey.
Passing On: my introduction to death and dying
- Dorie and Gampy
If you’ve been following along here for a while, you may have noticed that my grandfather has not been doing well. It’s been breaking my heart to see him suffer.
As a loved one, it feels next to impossible to make difficult decisions during the end of life. Sometimes honoring their wishes means making insanely painful decisions. Sometimes it means watching and feeling helpless.After five years of struggle, my grandfather let go this morning and passed. I’m filled with a strange mixture of grief and relief. While I am so grateful that his suffering is over, I realize that I am now starting the next phase of my life and I do not have his wisdom next to me to directly guide me through this.I am so very, very grateful to have had 26 good years with my grandfather. He was more than a grandfather to me: he was my best friend, my mentor, my teacher. Grandfather became a term that was severely inadequate to describe all that he was in my life. At some point over the years, “Grandpa” was shortened to “Gampy” and that name somehow seems most fitting.I am grateful for a grandfather who helped me when I was small with my homework. He encouraged my curiousity about the world around me. He humored my experiments in making peanut butter in a blender when we ran out of Skippy (we never did perfect that recipe). He took me bike riding at Core Creek Park after Summer Theatre in the afternoons. He never just told me “no” or “because I said so” – he explored the why with me and encouraged me to ask tough questions of my surroundings. I will always look back with fond memories of times when he taught me about physics while also teaching me about world history (he was a pilot in the Civil Air Patrol so it works better than most people realize). He taught me about the importance of being mindful of current events while always remembering the past (by the way, he was not a fan of the current economic stimulus plan). He gave me his car when I graduated from college to give me a head start in my adult life.My Gampy taught me about how to give and receive unconditional love. He instilled a strong Protestant work ethic in me. He gave me a dry sense of humor (not very useful in a small child but I wouldn’t trade it for anything now). He made Patsy Cline, Glenn Miller and Ella Fitzgerald into the sweetest lullabies. He offered forgiveness freely and unwavering faith in my abilities and place in the world.I was blessed to spend a quiet, undisturbed hour with him last night that I will always cherish. I know when he slipped away, it was peaceful and quiet. It was with dignity. It was with grace. While I ache now, I am grateful that in the end his wishes were honored.I‘ll be taking a little break from blogging. I’m not quite sure how long it will be. I need to take some time to be quiet with my family and process what this major change will be for us. I am looking forward to connecting with everyone again after I have a better sense of how my life has changed.Thank you for all of your support. It is appreciated deeply by myself, Brian and our family.Christmas on Spring Street
We didn’t set up a Christmas tree this year. I thought about setting up one on Black Friday so I could avoid shopping but instead I stayed in bed with a good book. Sure, the living room is a bit bare now but with all that is going on in our lives at the moment, I’m grateful that I don’t need to find time to take down a tree next week.
We didn’t hang lights from the front of the house either. I don’t really have an interest in going outside in the cold to hang lights from the house. I’d rather be warm. My husband works hard everyday and when he gets a day off, he’d rather be renovating the inside of our home than putting transition objects on the outside of it. I don’t blame him.
We didn’t really buy gifts this year either. I picked up a few things for Brian – things he needed for work and a trinket he would value for years to come. We really don’t need more things to fill our space. And I’d rather save the money for new furniture for our new house.
As far as festive holiday cheer, we’ve baked a lot of cookies while listening to Christmas music (Brian is very, very close to perfecting his peanut butter cookie recipe and each batch turns out better than the last). I’ve folded hundreds of paper stars and given them as gifts when the moment arises. My grandfather taught me how to make stars when I was a little girl and watching my fingers fly through strips of parchment is a reminder of who I am and what I am made from.
So far, it has been a very low key Christmas. And I enjoy it far more than I ever thought I would.
We’ve tried to have low key Christmases in the past but it has always fallen through. Inevitably, someone would get very upset about the lack of presents and we would cave. (One year, we tried to have a book Christmas where we announced that the only gifts we wanted to give or receive would be books but then no one bought us books and we ended up with even more stuff.)
This year we have a recession to help us out.
Maybe the recession is good for our souls, reminding us that we really don’t need all of the stuff that we think we need, want and desire. I might love the jewelry that my husband gives me but I really don’t need it to be happy. I find that I’m usually happiest on the days we are curled up together with a pot of tea and a good book in hand. My laptop might be nice to have but my laptop isn’t going to offer to rub my feet when I’ve been in heals all day and I’m getting cranky.
And none of the stuff would make me happy if I didn’t have a husband to share it.
Sure there is a part of me that still gets excited at the idea of Santa Claus coming. When the local fire department drives around with Santa on the back of the truck, I can’t help myself from running to the front of the house and yelling “Merry Christmas” at the volunteers. But really, it is the community that comes together to create that experience for the neighborhood that gets me excited. And in the context, Santa has very little to do with the experience.
I don’t think we’re really Pro-Christmas in the Morgan household, but we certainly aren’t Anti-Christmas either. We’re in this weird middle ground because it isn’t about the presents and the hoopla and the chaos and the madness. And then I realize that Christmas is really just the most visible reflection of our family’s priorities compacted into one emotionally charged day.
Meet my niece!
I’d like to take a moment to introduce everyone to the newest addition to the family: Natalie Clayre!
Natalie has one day, one hour and fifty minutes of living under her belt.
And she’s amazing. She’s so beautiful, I don’t know what to do with myself. And there’s something about watching her father hold her oh so carefully that overwhelms me.
It makes me want to make such a beautiful soul with Brian.
My Niece
We’re so blessed to have the new person in our family. Our lives may have changed tremendously over the last year but none of that matters when you look at this face that just wants to be loved and supported.
Already, everyone wants to be near her. Everyone wants to love and be loved. Everyone wants a moment to touch a miracle.
She humbles you.
She doesn’t know anything about career development. She couldn’t give a rat’s ass about her daddy being a gamer or her Aunt Dorie being a blogger. She doesn’t know we dream about her changing the world someday. She doesn’t even know that her tongue is permanently attached to her yet!
But she has her priorities in check. She is living the balanced life we all dream about it. Her only concern relates to when her mommy will feed her again.
She’s smarter than I will ever be. Someday, I’m going to look at this kid and wonder how she knows so much.
Natalie Clayre
But today, I’m just going to look at this face and be grateful that my family has been changed by her. And in such wonderful ways.
Congratulations Jason and Kelly! Your family is beautiful!
Where is your faith?
I usually find myself painting Sunday mornings at church when I’m not helping in the nursery or Sunday School room. I am not sure if I would identify myself as an artist or a painter but it is something that I enjoy doing and it is relaxing for me.
This past week, I caught myself ignoring the sermon and letting my mind wander. Somehow, I ended up thinking about faith. Not in the God, Jesus, Allah, Yhwh, etc. sort of way but in the faith in life sort of way. We all have to have some sort of faith in the unexpected things that will happen each day.
Despite my tendency to have periods of radical doubt where I question Jesus and if I even believe in him as the son of God, I rarely question if I believe in God. I always think of God as the constant but I am starting to realize that God is not my only constant source of faith.
For example, I have faith that I will have work everyday, Monday through Friday. I don’t actually know yet that I will have work but I have faith that management won’t just close up shop in the middle of the night. I have faith that as long as I work hard, I will be employed.
I also have faith in my marriage. I have faith in my husband – that he will be a good provider and partner. I have faith that he will not cheat on me. I don’t know that he will or won’t be faithful but I will have faith until the moment one of us takes our last moments on this earth.
I have faith that the world is fundamentally good, despite some of the really messed up things that are happening right now. If I didn’t have that faith, then I wouldn’t be able to think about having kids. Because you can’t in good conscious bring new life into a place that you believe is bad or evil. And I have faith that this world can/will be made better within my lifetime.
I have faith that change will happen but it will not be permanent. I have faith that my hair will continue to grow but I do not know that it will happen until I see it grow longer. I can predict that this will happen and then I can observe when it does happen.
I have faith that I will not live forever. I have faith that I have this one life and that I cannot waste it (whether that be as a cube dweller or as a kept women). Death will not be certain until I experience it.
As people, we don’t have to believe in God or Jesus or any other spiritual path. But we do have to have faith in order to survive.
What do you have faith in? Are there areas of your life where your faith surprises you or confuses you?
Why I am hungry on Fridays
Despite the fact that I do it on a weekly basis during Lent, fasting is my least favorite of the spiritual disciplines. I know that a spiritual discipline is not designed to be fun but to add to spiritual growth but fasting seems to be the worst. Fasting is a battle of the wills: me versus the cookie jar. Even a twenty four hour fast is brutal. I’m not looking forward to Easter weekend where I traditional fast from services on Maundy Thursday to services on Easter morning. Especially since Brian and I are babysitting for his nieces and nephew that weekend.
One of the big reasons why fasting is so difficult is that it is a constant reminder of how physical our bodies truly are. Chastity, although just as physical, is a bit easier. You can survive without sex. But survival without food is a lot shorter. And at least with chastity, there is still masturbation. Whereas there is no way to self gratify when withholding food is involved.
Fasting is supposed to remind us of what we really need. What we are really hungry for. What we crave on a spiritual level. What our souls need to survive.
What we really need is God.
How easy it is to forget that! If you asked me to rattle off a quick list of things I needed in my life, I’m fairly certain my list would not have God at the top of it. Brian would be at the top followed by my cell phone, blank paper and writing instruments and OPI nail polish. I would tell you that coffee is a biological necessity for me. I would probably tell you that I need an oversized purse to cart my things around in. And I would tell you that I need to wear flip flops or no shoes at all. In our consumer driven culture, needing God is easy to forget because it doesn’t cost money to receive God’s love.
So I fast on Fridays as a reminder. Giving up meat or another luxury for the Lenten season isn’t quite as effective. I am reminded by the loud, angry grumbling my stomach makes. I am reminded by the ache in my belly. I am reminded that God will provide for me and this too, shall pass. I am reminded that despite my weakness, I am strong in God’s love.
Social Activism as an Emotion
At the wedding on Sunday, Brian and I were chatting with one of the pastors from our church, Gary. Gary is just a year or two older than me so it is really easy to forget that he is supposed to be one of our spiritual leaders. To Brian and me, Gary is just a friend. I’m certainly not in awe of his M-Div from Princeton. It may not sound like a big deal now, but I’m hoping it’s a dynamic of the relationship we can maintain as he goes further into ministry because I think it will be important in keeping him grounded.
We spent a good portion of the luncheon chatting about our friend Jeff, who unfortunately had to miss the wedding. The interesting thing about Jeff is that he is very even in temperament. Good or bad, you’ll never really see or experience a big emotional outburst from him. It is really difficult to push his buttons. He could go through a horrible break up and have his heart crushed in the process and the most emotion you’d see from him would be something along the lines of “Meh, it just wasn’t working out”.
But Jeff is extremely passionate about social activism. Social activism isn’t just something Jeff does – it is an emotion and an experience for him. It can be easy to forget that Jeff could experience emotion until you hear him speak about organizations like Invisible Children or another ministry that he is involved in. It is really inspiring and humbling to hear about what he finds his passion in.
I am not a social activist. In fact, I’m really bad at social activism because I don’t feel like I can change the world, I just feel like I can get mad at it. I’m so quick to anger because of a world wide sense of entitlement and stupidity. But Jeff has this gift where he can see the world and move toward making it better.
What would this world look like if social activism was an emotion for more people? What would it look like if more young people felt the desire and overwhelming urge to help change the world when they saw injustice? What if our minds immediately went to “how can I fix this” instead of “That’s messed up”?
Sometimes I get scared about the idea of Brian and me bringing children into the world. I love kids and I desperately want to create a family with my husband. But I’m not sure it is a mature and responsible to decision to bring small lives into the world we live in now. Somehow, friends like Jeff make me think that maybe my someday babies will be safe. Maybe someday, it’ll be my babies who can change the world.
What if Jesus was Gay?
While I was scanning headlines on Yahoo News today I lunch, I was caught by surprise at a headline. “Gay Jesus play angers Australian church leaders”. I wasn’t really shocked at the headline. I think I would have been shocked had the headline read “Gay Jesus play a hit with church leaders”.
The play, “Corpus Christi”, is being presented at the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras in Sydney, Australia and presents a Jesus who was gay and had gay followers. Interestingly enough, the play was directed by a person who identifies himself as a Christian and wanted to provoke debate.
I don’t have a strong opinion on the play either way. As a long time supporter of the theatrical arts, I believe theatre, and in particular, modern drama, is a place where we can talk about topics that make us uncomfortable in a safe, nonjudgemental way. I haven’t seen or read the play yet but I’m curious to see what the play presents.
The topic of the play alone raises so many questions in my mind that I am almost overwhelmed at the thought.
For example:
- What if Jesus was gay? Would you be open to the gospel had it come from the mouth of a homosexual?
- What parts of the gospel could you accept from a Gay Jesus?
- What parts of the gospel would you be unable to accept from a Gay Jesus?
- How does this impact the idea of homosexuality and the Church?
- If there was a Gay Jesus, what would the face of marriage look like today?
- Can we as Christians talk about the impact of this play without getting caught in the shock value of its content?
- Is the idea of a gay Jesus as upsetting to Christians today as the idea of a black Jesus would have been one hundred years ago?
- Can we listen to the message of God without judging the vessel it came in? Or does the vessel make the message?
- What if Mary Magdalene played the role of the Savior and Jesus played her role instead? Would we be able to believe in a female Jesus?
- Would we be willing to buy into and believe in a Jesus that does not look like what our idea of what the Son of God should be?
- Why has faith beome dependent on a Messiah that seems safe?
- How did we forget how unsafe Jesus was to the Jewish population two thousand years ago?
I think the best way to close this is with a quote from the director. I hope to open it up again with your comments and questions.
“I wanted this play in the hands of a Christian person like myself to give it dignity but still open it up to answering questions about Christianity as a faith system,” Leigh Rowney said.
Why I Believe in Chastity as A Spiritual Discipline
Chastity. Scary word. My gut reaction is instant dislike. It reminds me of celibacy, of sacrifice, of doing something for no good reason. Chastity was a praised virtue in my home as a teen yet there was no real reason behind it and my mother probably would have fashioned some sort of chastity belt for me had I held still long enough for her to put it on me. Chastity was a virtue that was never defined but expected and the lack of definition left it blurred with celibacy and fear in my mind.
The dictionary defines chastity as:
1: The quality or state of being chaste: as a: abstention from unlawful sexual intercourse b: abstention from all sexual intercourse c: purity in conduct and intention d: restraint and simplicity in design or expression
2: personal integrityThat’s a lot of meaning to leave undefined.
Upon further dictionary reflection, we can also learn that “chaste” means:
1: Innocent of unlawful sexual intercourse
2: CELIBATE
3: pure in thought and act: MODEST
4: severely simple in design or execution SYN Chaste, pure, modest, decent: shared meaning element: free from all taint of what is lewd or salacious.Translation: once you lose chastity, you can never get it back.
Well, then. What about celibacy? It is another very scary word. It was interesting to learn that celibacy has more to do with being sexually pure and a vow to never marry than with simply not getting any.
Still. Why should I care about chastity? What was it going to accomplish? What was the point of keeping my sexual flower intact? What did I have to gain from it? Did God really care if I was virgin? After all, in the Bible I was supposed to be property handed from one man to another and slavery was okay…. since those standards had changed, why should chastity be any different? Was God going to stop loving me if I had sex? I was desperately screaming out for one good reason to remain a virgin, yet none was being provided.
I wanted a good reason.
Needless to say, I went out and had sex. And nothing bad happened. God did not descend from Heaven to punish me. God was easily pushed out of sight, out of mind. He did not seem all that upset that I was getting some. In fact, I discovered that I was damn good at what I did and I enjoyed it too.
The first time I realized how good I was, I kept thinking about how my mother always told people that I was a jack of all trades and a master of none. Oh, I was a master of one alright. I prided myself on being able to meet needs, wants and desires that men never knew they had. Chastity was something for the archaic Biblical students that I made fun of on a regular basis.
I went along quite happily like this for about six years.Around the time I came to the conclusion that “I can’t get laid in this town without these pointy fucking shoes and my feet are so black and blue”, I started to realize that my plan of attack might not be the best one. Sex was usually physically fulfilling, it was hit and miss with emotional fulfillment, but at the end of the day, it just was not enough.
So I changed.
I’ve been reading a book titled “Real Sex: The Naked Truth about Chastity”. It is amazing. Very well put together, very well thought out. I soon realized that I finally found all of the answers I so desperately sought in high school.
Chastity was not about not having sex. That was merely a consequence of its purpose. It was not about controlling me. It was not about forcing me into an antiquated patriarchal system, designed to hold me down. Chastity was not about making my mother happy or avoiding motherhood.
Chastity was about bringing me closer to God.
Now I should say that I have had sexual experiences that I do believe have brought me closer to God. All of my sexual past has taught me quite a bit about myself, about other people, about men and women, about Christians and Jews and many other believing/non believing types. It has taught me about my own value, about the values that I admire in others, and about the inconsistencies in my own life. I do not want to discount any of those experiences in any way, shape, or form.
But.
I am now left with questions. Why is chastity a spiritual discipline? How will it bring me closer to God? Can I become chaste after being so unchaste? Will I forever be damaged goods? Will the Christian community damn me before I ever get a foot out the door? Will it get easier with time? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me that it was a discipline?
I am starting to wonder if there might be more teen virgins in the Christian community if it was explained as a discipline. I had no problem as a teen with the concept and execution of tithing. It was so ingrained in me that I knew it was something I needed to do. I really only developed a problem with tithing after I realized that God didn’t strike me down the night I put out. If God wasn’t going to punish me for the sex, drugs, and rock and roll, He certainly wasn’t going to punish me if I didn’t tithe. It all made a previously effortless discipline all that more difficult.
I can’t exactly say what makes chastity appealing. It is a number of things. But that isn’t the point. The point is I am becoming closer to God. It is a lot easier to see my own flaws and faults when I am not hiding behind my ability to attract and bed any man of my pick. While I think I was always authentic with others, I did not have to face as many demons when sex was in the picture. Sex could replace almost anything.
Sex is an easy and comfortable vice of choice.
Something I’ve discovered: Even when I practice chastity, I engage in a large amount of unprotected sex. Sex without a condom is a thrilling experience – not only is there an increased pleasure but there is also and increased thrill. Nothing adds quite the same excitement as the subliminal risk of herpes or the clap. The knowledge that the pleasure could cause so much pain makes the Sexual Roulette such a turn on. You might get an orgasm or you might get AIDS.
Sometimes, you get both.
The sex I talk about now is emotional. I haven’t had sexual intercourse almost four months. Yet the last four months have been marked with unparalleled emotional promiscuity. What makes this emotional sex unprotected is that my partners often do not know that they are having sex with me.
Unprotected sex involves some sort of trust. Committed relationship. Husband and wife. Lovers not fuck buddies. Unprotected sex should be carefully planned and orchestrated. This is not an event to be entered into lightly. In this day an age, most married couples do not truly have unprotected sex until they are ready to reproduce.
New question: have I been committing emotional rape?
Clearly, there are ramifications. And only recently did I realize how frequently I did this. I always knew that laundry was a form of emotional sex for me. I deeply tie my emotions to my ability to provide and care for another person. By taking pride in a man’s appearance, I take pride in him. There is something more emotionally binding to me about cleaning his clothes than there is about having sex with him.
I’m also discovering other acts that are emotional sex. Book lending for one. Words have such an intimate meaning for me. Its one thing to lend a text book. It is another thing to lend a dear old friend of a book. That is how I get myself into trouble. My markings, the inner workings of my mind in relation to the author are exposed. In essence, I am exposed in a way that I might not be ready for and in a way that the other person may never realize. I don’t know how detrimental this could be to me but I’m not sure I want to find out.
Lauren Winner wrote: “Communities working toward chastity ought to have honest and true conversations about sex, conversations that include opportunities for counsel and witness.”
I need to work on that more often.
(Originally published June 28, 2006 on Diaryland)
Why God Does Not Appear On My New Year’s Resolutions
I have noticed on several Christian blogs a theme of adding Christ to one’s New Year’s resolutions. I’m going to pray more. I’m going to tithe. I’m going to read the entire Bible. I’m going to be more active in my Bible Study. I’m going to devote more time to Church. I’m going to attend Church every Sunday. I’m going to be a better Christian.
I am going to hurl.
The problem with these resolutions is two-fold. The first problem is that it says very little or very negative things about your current relationship with God. The second problem is a big more concerning: what will happen to your faith if you do not accomplish your goal? There are probably many other problems that can be mentioned but these are two very important problems to start this examination.
Let me expand by adopting the premise that I am going to read the entire Bible and pray more in 2008. Neither are my goals for the year but I believe it will serve as a good example.
What do these goals tell me about my current relationship with God? First, it tells me that my relationship with Christ has not been a priority in the past. Or rather, using the two measuring sticks of faith called “frequent prayer” and “Bible reading” my faith has been inadequate and it needs to be improved. However, changing these habits to make one’s faith agreeable to these measuring sticks does not automatically improve one’s relationship with God. For example, I can read every page of the Bible. I can memorize every word that escaped Jesus’ mouth. I can read the Bible in its original language. I can become a Biblical Scholar.
None of that means that I have become a better Christian. None of it makes me a better wife to my husband. None of it makes me a better representation of the Christian Faith. I am not “Christ-like” because I have read every page of the Bible.
But it creates a false image. Its creates the idea that by completing certain goals and tasks, one can become a better Christian and in turn a better person and in turn have a better seat in the kingdom of God. While that feeds into the middle class dream of suburbia quite nicely, it does very little for a life of true Christian faith. It only fuels a false image to those in our community of how “godly” we are, feeding our egos and pulling us father from God and Christ.
But the second problem is much larger and has a devastating long term impact. What happens when we fail? What will happen to our faith when we do not reach our goal? Or worse, what will happen to our faith when we reach our goal? As Max Bemis of Say Anything points out “Like Judas the Traitor, we are both favored and deeply flawed”.
We fail. We are humans and we have fallen from grace. We are imperfect people in an imperfect world and we ache for the closeness we once shared with God. We ache to walk with God and to feel complete. We are tempted and we sin and we make mistakes. We search for forgiveness and we grant our own forgiveness sparingly. Setting a goal for faith does leave us in a good position for failure.
What happens when I vow to pray every single day in 2008? Do I have to beg myself and God for forgiveness when I miss a prayer? Or are my prayers filled with the simple requests of children but with none of the heart behind them? And what happens during times of doubt when prayer does not come easily? What happens when prayers are not answered the way I want and in the time I demand?
The rift between me and my maker grows deeper at my own doing? I will have set myself up for failure.
More alarmingly, what happens if I succeed? God will not descend upon me, although if I am truly heartfelt in my 366 daily prayers, I will most likely find peace and grace. But I will not find world peace. I will not discover that there is no more political divide (sadly, I will not find that liberal ideals are no longer forced at me in social situations). I will not find that I suddenly know the meaning of life. And if these were things that I expected as a result of my resolution, what will happen to my relationship with Jesus? Will I still know in my heart of hearts that he is, in fact, my savior? Or will it add to the jaded, cynical edge that taints the rest of my life?
The theme between these problems is simple: by making God part of our To Do List, we attempt to stop God from working in His own mysterious ways. We try to make God another aspect of our day planners. And God cannot be compartmentalized in that way. He won’t be. He refuses to be. And he refuses to fit into our areas of convenience by shaking us up.
These goals take away the true meaning of Christ. As Christ’s followers, we need to be able to go out into the world and do the work of God. And we need to be willing to surrender to the inconvenience of it. We need to be open to those moments not falling within the boundaries of our carefully planned lives.
God is not on my resolution list this year. He’ll do what ever he wants regardless of my vows.
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