Where I'm At

This post has been a long time in coming. These days, for whatever reason, I tend to come up with ideas for posts, but never actually write anything down. Tonight's a bit different though. I jetted from work early (on time, actually, but that is early if you know what I mean) because I just had to get out of there. I'm in a really desperate place tonight and feel like I can't contain what I'm feeling. So it's going to come out here.

This desperation has been building for many months now, but the combination of another frustrating Eagles loss in an NFC championship game, the crashing of my Outlook (and potential loss of recent emails, all my contacts and calendar entries), a nearly missed credit card payment and a totally demoralizing meeting at work have pushed me over the proverbial edge. Or, to be more precise, have finally gotten me engaging God in discussions/protestations/accusations/interrogations. And this is a healthy change from the self-imposed estrangement that's been par for the course in recent months.

Why the estrangement in the first place though? I am wrestling with questions much harder than any I've faced before. Wondering how I wound up here. Wondering why I'm not in missions anymore. I have had moments of regret about my missions career. Now that I'm on a different path I feel ... behind. Behind by about 10 years. In other words, ten years behind where I "should" be. But not only ten years behind ... behind in the bank account, behind on savings, behind in the size of my house and the newness of my cars. I know it's just my culture talking, but ... I have had a hard time not listening to that lately.

I wonder what use God has for me now, since so much of my life has been lived with the aim of being useful to God. I know that this too is a lie (both that I need to be useful and that I currently am not), but I have had a hard time not believing it lately.

I've been listening to a song lately that captures pretty well what I'm feeling, and also what I need most to remember. It's called "Times" and it's by Tenth Avenue North (click the link to listen to the song). Here are the lyrics:

I know I need You
I need to love You
I'd love to see You but it's been so long

I long to feel You
I feel this need for You
I need to hear You
Is that so wrong?

Now You pull me near You
When we're close I fear You
Still I'm afraid to tell you all that I've done

Are You done forgiving?
Can you look past my pretending?
I'm so tired of defending what I've become
What have I become?

But I hear You say:
My love is over
It's underneath
It's inside
It's in between

The times you doubt me
And when you can't feel
The times that you question
Is this for real?

The times that you're broken
The times that you mend
The times you hate me
The times that you bend

My love is over
It's underneath
It's inside
It's in between

The times that you're healing
And when your hearts breaks
The times that you feel like you've fallen from grace

The times that you're hurting
The times that you heal
The times you go hungry and are tempted to steal

In times of confusion
In chaos and pain
I'm there in your sorrow under the weight of your shame

I'm there in your heart-ache
I'm there through the storm
My love I will keep you by my power alone

I don't care where you've fallen or where you have been
I'll never forsake you
My love never ends
It never ends


I feel like there's so much that I could be saying in this song, even though I didn't write it. The line that stands out most to me is "The times you go hungry and are tempted to steal." That's exactly where I am right now -- hungry, and tempted to steal. I am hungry, starving even, and looking for that which will nourish. I know God has it -- and only He has it. But I'm tempted to steal anyway. God would freely give, but my pride and anger and shame prevents me from asking. I would rather steal something right now, even if what I could steal is moldy and maggot-filled and what God would give is fresh, fragrant and filling.

The "fallen from grace" line applies as well. I have not, of course; I am only not a (vocational) missionary anymore. But it feels so much like having fallen though. I know that'll be tough to understand for many of you who might read this, and you will want to remind me that I still am a missionary in my community and at work and all that. I get that -- I really do -- but it's not the same. Maybe it should be, but it's not. Being a vocational missionary is not the same thing as being salt and light in the world. In substance there's not much that's different, but there are some significant implications that are different, all sorts of ways in which the vocation complicates things. I heard it said once that when your faith is what brings your income, you'll always be in danger of losing one or the other. I thought that was very cynical at the time, but I understand the truth of that better now than I did then.

But I digress... back to the main point...

I sit in church these days and wonder why I'm there. I like my church. I like the singing. I think the people are nice. But it's not at all relational and I rarely learn anything new. I sing, I listen to a lesson, I say hi to a few people, I collect Brennan from the nursery, I go home. On my way home I usually wonder what else there is. Is this what it's like to follow God now? What happened to my zeal? What happened to the way I used to pursue Him? What changed since my college days and the early days of my missionary venture?

I'm beginning to answer those questions. I think the key is this: over the last few years I have been deeply wounded by some of God's people -- people who truly followed after God; people who knew Him and wanted to honor Him. People who, for all their good intentions, hurt me deeply. Some of those people were co-laborers, some were leaders, some were friends, some barely even knew me. Each hurtful action shook an individual relationship, but, as a whole, they rocked my trust in God. Can this God be trusted, when people who claim Him do such things?

I must conclude this: for me to know God, I cannot rely on those who claim to know Him. For me to know God, I cannot simply show up for an hour of church a week. For me to know God, I do not need to be employed by Him. He can be found in those places, but He can't be fully known in these things. I have to go back to the drawing board. I have to deconstruct my Christianity.

I only have a few ideas about where to go from here ... to the Word, for sure. He can be found there. To my knees. He is always found in humility. But I want to try a few new things too -- I want to look for God in my son's smile. I want to learn to see how God feels about me in the way my son loves me, and how I love him back. I want to find God amongst the cubicals in my office, in the midst of a contentious performance review with one of his lost sheep. I want to find God in the kitchen as I joyfully prepare meals for my wife and son. I want to find God under the covers as I drift off to sleep after another exhausting day of being everybody else's John. I want to find God in life as I know it now. It's not the same life it used to be. I'm through trying to decide if this life is good, bad, better or worse. It just is. And God's in it, somewhere.