Someone once told me that if he could describe me in two words they would probably be "relentlessly cheerful."
I suppose I could credit this to my childhood hero of Maria from The Sound of Music. Or maybe to my abnormal super power of not being capable of staying angry. Perhaps I eat entirely too much ice cream--which is difficult to be glum while consuming. Whatever the reason may be, people who meet me line up left and right to jump on the bandwagon of affectionately coining me as cheery.
I can honestly say I don't see much of a problem with this. I really honestly am cheery freakishly often. I don't think this stems from an abundant happiness, however, but rather a lack of being able to feel much else. Or at least the inability to recognize the other feelings, and then the defectiveness of owning them once I figure out what they are.
If you have ever read anything in this entire blog, you already know that I am constantly trying to reason through ways to be closer to God. You will also know that I really struggle with reading my Bible. I think I have a better than average understanding of the connection between spending time with God and feeling close to him. There is an obvious link between knowing God and knowing his word. I know this full well--and I am pretty sure I could preach some effective sermons on the topic, assuming the church wasn't struck down for having a woman in the pulpit. I know this stuff. Inside and out.
But today, in a calm empty day of an uneventful Spring break, I sat down and let myself be totally honest. I lit some candles (ambience, if you will), got out my prayer journal (neglected for almost a month now), and I started reading. There were six entries. I had just stopped writing in it because I just decided I didn't want to take that time and sit and think and pray. I just simply didn't want to.
Did I have other things I would have rather been doing? No.
Did I run out of time? No.
I just didn't want to sit and spend time with God.
I went to the store and bought some pens. The pens where the ink is liquid inside, and you can see it swishing around. I love those pens. I am not a doodler--but if I see one of those pens, I will find any excuse I can to find something to write with it. I bought those pens and put them next to my prayer journal.
I went running. I ate some yogurt. I drank a bunch of water. I walked in and out of the room as the journal and pens sat on the table. I did a couple Sudoku puzzles (which I don't even like to do). I played around on a yoga ball. I checked my e-mail a couple hundred times. I lit some candles. I blew them out. I lit them a few more times, and played around in the wax. I sat on the couch and stared at my journal. I watched the pens--waiting to be used. I finally picked my journal up and started to write.
I didn't really have a prayer. I mean, I need $900 by tuesday and I don't know where I'm going to get it from. I am going to have a giant gap in my teeth for two weeks and I'm afraid people are going to laugh at me. I'm in love with a boy who not only lives far away, but is in love with someone else. I miss my family. I want to adopt every shelter dog in the world. And I'm trying desperately to form new relationships at a new church.
But I didn't have a prayer. I didn't even bring any of that up. I forced myself to sit down and just spend time with God. It was very glaringly obvious to me that I had to force myself to sit down and talk to God. Not just force myself--but bribe myself. With wonderful new pens.
I know that spending daily time with God will bring me closer to him. I was in a youth group, I went to youth rallies. Not a new concept. But here is where I started wondering if I can want and crave to come and meet with God just by forcing myself to do it daily. How does that not make it something I resent?
I know full well that the reason I've been feeling incomplete lately is because I haven't been spending time with God. But what I wanted was to stop knowing why, and start doing my part to fix it.
The worst part about the whole entire thing is that I'm so distant from God, and I'm not even squeezing in the sinful desires of the flesh. I'm not even getting a good sinful helping out of it. I'm not skipping God so I can go live it up pagan style; I'm just skipping God.
How do you think God feels about the fact that before I can willingly come to him, I have to force myself to? Does that feel as awful as it sounds? How does God deal with constantly being not loved? Does he ever get lonely? Does he ever feel used? So I'm supposed to pray for God to help me feel closer to him? So I don't have to feel so bad? What's in it for him?
I am pretty sure God wants me to be honest with him. And I'm pretty sure that me being so distressed is probably making him sad. And every alter call at any youth rally will tell you that God just wants to comfort me and hold me and love me--despite all of this. But frankly, I don't really feel comforted. I already know it's going to be okay. And I already know that in a few hours I'll be back to my normal cheerful self. But siting and telling all of this to God, I did not feel any comfort. All I felt was sad.
I was spending time with God, and all I felt was sad. I was perfectly happy running, blowing out my candles, eating my yogurt, having a quiet day. I was my normal cheerful self until I sat down to spend time with God and then all I felt was sadness.
Everything I've ever been taught about God tells me that this is okay. But what am I supposed to do with it? Chalk it up to some quality time spent with God? I'm not gonna lie--if spending time with God is going to make me so sad, why would I keep it up to try to even make it a habit?
Maybe I felt sorry. Maybe I felt guilty. But without resolve I ended my prayer with an apology. Maybe God was going to have to feel unwanted for a little while longer--until I genuinely let him close enough to change me.
Please don't let me hurt you. . .you're God. You're tough. Don't feel bad. Because we'll work this out. We can fix this.
I know it.
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3 comments:
The only thing I've found that's helped me in my relationship with God (and frankly, other people too) is discipline. While I know you and I are very different in our approaches to life, I still believe there is value in spiritual discipline for every person. Strong relationships don't survive due to a surplus of positive emotional feelings. In fact, a lot of time it is just hard work and consistency that helps get both sides through the hard times. I think the same is true with God. I don't always look forward to reading my Bible or talking to Him. In fact, I would say that I dread it at least a fourth of the time. It's hard to talk to Him since I know He knows everything about me and I must be real and honest to Him. But consistently seeking His word and talking to Him helps me have a more solid relationship with Him. As you said, you could preach a sermon on the subject matter so I won't preach anymore. But I really do think spiritual discipline goes a long way in getting you through these type of times.
Yeah, discipline about sums it up. I've read somewhere (I don't know where. I probably wrote it down myself, purposely hid it in my room, and then when cleaning months later I find it and assume it was someone else's official word. I'm good at duping myself) that it takes 21 days to really create a habit out of something. So, 21 days of discipline, and then it'll just come naturally! And the best part about these slummy times when you just can't get up the gumption to really sit down and spend some time with Him is that eventually, all the zeal and all the love will come surging out again, and it'll be worth ten times what it would have been if you hadn't had that low point. But I do know how frustrating it is, since I can attest to the fact that I'm going through the same thing right now: I know I should read (no, I know that I NEED to read. Big difference), and when I do pray it seems quick and shallow and pointless. But you know what helps? Even though it's almost more a distraction than a big help, now that the weather's so nice out, I recommend just going to the park--or even a backyard--kickin' the shoes off, and reading right there. Let the wind mess up your hair, the sun beat down on your face and the dirt get in your toes. But mostly, just let God's great earth remind you who was awesome enough to make it.
Then go back home and eat ice cream, 'cause He made that, too.
thanks for writing this. i seriously connect to what you are saying.
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