Faith in Relationships and God, Part 2

I suppose this is where the fun begins.

God isn’t like the rest of us.  Jesus wasn’t a guy who just didn’t get it.  If anything, he showed that he understood us so much better than we understood ourselves.  He proved that he loved the people he was with even though he knew their past, he knew their shame, and he certainly knew their hearts.

There is no deceiving God, no way to hide, no way to hurt; he always knows where you are, how you feel, and how to take care of you.

He is the only being in the whole of existence who sees you for who you really are, all the vulnerabilities, all the hurts, all the past mistakes, all the good, all the dreams, the hopes, the desires.  He sees it all and loves it.  More specifically, he loves you.

He. Loves. You.

Whether you reject him or embrace him, he will always be just a breath away.  He will not hurt you, and you cannot disappoint him.  There is nothing you can do to make him go away.

But he doesn’t invade your life either.  He allows you to make your own decisions and waits patiently for you.  He is basically exactly what we are all looking for and need in a relationship.

Might seem too good to be true, but keep in mind I mentioned what we needed in a relationship and not what we wanted.  They are incredibly different things.  And oftentimes confused for each other.

But think about it.  One of the greatest needs humanity has it to feel love and acceptance, and to have a sense of belonging.  It makes them feel safe, and it makes them feel important.  I think in our core, we all have a deep need to be significant.

And we are significant.  We are worthy of being loved.

To use an “overused” verse from John 3

“This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person’s failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.”

The point is, you are loved.

But what does that have to do with Faith in God?

Well, to really have faith in someone you have to trust them.  I personally find it impossible to truly trust someone without knowing they actually care about me and my well-being.  So, I felt that it was important to establish that God does actually care.

This is where it gets tricky.

See, I have found over the years that for me to trust others, I need to be trustworthy myself.  I need to exhibit the qualities that I desire to see in other people (within reason).  If I want my wife to prove she is trustworthy I must also be willing to put forth the effort in doing the same.  It is just the natural course of relationships from my own experience.

My relationship with God isn’t really any different.   There is still ebb and flow, give and take, and a need to show trust and be trusted.

This gets incredibly difficult when things don’t always go the way we expect.  Admittedly, there are days when I have felt that God betrayed me or hurt me on purpose, but I have to remember that despite how I feel, the reality is that God doesn’t do anything without purpose, without reason.  I, in my finite mind, cannot always understand the movements of an infinite being.

That doesn’t really make it easy.  If anything it makes it more difficult.  But I find that if I can shut down my pride for a few minutes then maybe I will begin to see that, as Solomon put it, “There is a season for everything.”  Sometimes we have to wait; sometimes we have to weather a storm; sometimes we have to make it through the tougher parts of life to get a little stronger so we can go a little further; and sometimes things are gravy.

Just like a relationship with another person.

I feel like, ultimately, having faith in another person, and having faith in God when it comes to relationships is really no different.

Furthermore, I would argue that they are actually intimately intertwined.

My relationship with God actually does affect my relationship with my wife and with others.  If I am being adamant in speaking with God, meditating on who he is, what he has done for me, and what he has to say both in scripture and in my own personal time with him then I find that my relationships with other improve immensely from it.

But when I neglect to do those things my relationships with others stagnate, I tend to be more irritable than usual and poor attitudes slowly creep into my core.

And I don’t want that.

I don’t want that at all.

Grace and Peace.

p.s.  Dear friend,  I hope this has helped you even a little bit.  If you want to discuss this more in person you are more than welcome to come find me.  You know where I live.  :)

Faith in Relationships and God, Part 1

I was asked by a friend to write out my thoughts on faith and how it plays out in relationships and with God.  I’ve been mulling over it for about a week now, and I’m still not entirely sure I’ve gotten all my thoughts straightened out but I thought now might be a good time to start the writing process and see where the journey takes us.  Without further ado:

I guess the first thing that needs to be addressed what the definition of the word faith since it will be the basis for the rest of the post.  There are few different points under the faith definition but I am going to just use the two points that I think are reflected at the heart of the question:

Faith [feyth]

1.       Confidence or trust in a person or thing: faith in another’s ability.

2.       Belief that is not based on proof: He had faith that the hypothesis would be substantiated by fact.

That is what we are really talking about here when we talk about faith in relationships:  A showing of trust and confidence in the face of uncertainty or lack of proof.

I think I want to start with faith in relationships.  I feel that perhaps this will be the easier of the two to address and I want to make sure my thoughts have worked themselves out a little more before I talk about faith in God.

Throughout life every human experiences a series of relationships.  Every encounter with another human or any living creature develops a form of relationship.  Whether it is an acquaintanceship with a co-worker, an affection for a pet, or love for a significant other, we are all in some form of relationship.  Each of these relationships tell a little bit about who we are as people.  How we react to different personalities, what we reveal to others at differing levels of intimacy, and how we handle conflict (perhaps the most revealing of all).  Every relationship requires some semblance of trust that the person you are interacting with is not some psychopath who is going to slit your throat when you aren’t looking (although we all know there are other ways to be much more hurtful).  The more intimate you get with another, the more faith or trust is required until eventually you get to the point where you are completely vulnerable to the other person.

When you reach that point there is no turning back.

And it is scary.

And dangerous.

But it is also freeing.

I can’t even begin to mention the times when I have been so thankful that I can really and truly be myself around my wife.  It is such a blessing to be in such a relationship with her that I can come home and not feel the need to “wear my armor” so to speak, and she has said the same to me on a number of occasions.  It is a beautiful thing to be a part of.  But being in such a relationship has the potential for some of the deepest wounds.  One small word, one phrase, one little thing is all it takes and that trust gets completely destroyed.

Many times when things like that happen, it isn’t even meant.  It is just something that was said or done in the heat of the moment.  And it happens too many times to too many people.

And sometimes those people never trust again.  They never open up because their heart is too damaged, too wounded, and they are too scared.  And that fear keeps them from opening up again which is what really needs to happen if they are ever going to heal.

The problem, of course, is that we are all people.  There is not a single perfect being out there.  Not a single individual who will take all of who you are and at some point not hurt you.  It is in our nature.  I deeply love my wife, and I know she trusts me to take care of her both emotionally and physically.  She trusts me to not use the secrets that she has kept to herself until she shared them with me against her.  She trusts me to keep those same secrets to myself.  She trusts me to respect her wishes, and she certainly trusts me to have fidelity in our relationship with each other.

And I trust her to do the same. 

It’s taken four years to get to that point, and it has been a painful process at times because despite our trust in each other, we don’t always pull through like we should. 

Because people are broken.

But we have to keep removing callouses that develop around our hearts or we will get to the point where we don’t love each other any longer.  And I don’t mean that in the sense of the emotional experience of love.  I mean the commitment and choice to love.  The act of putting the other before self, of showing patience and kindness, of getting angry at the injustice of how someone treated the other, or keeping complaints to yourself because the only reason you’re aggravated is because it is inconvenient to you.

It is a two way street, and it requires balance and finesse.

That’s why so many people will spend a lifetime toughing out the imbalance until they find it.

That’s why so many people give up on something so beautiful, because they don’t realize they can actually work through it if they wanted to.  They just don’t want to because it hurts in the now.

But we are worth so much more than this.

Grace and Peace.  Part 2 coming up Wed.

On Conflict

Conflict is such an ugly word.

Or at least, that is how most people view it.  Truthfully, if I were to mention that I was experiencing some conflict with another individual, wouldn't you think that it was probably a bad thing?  I know I would view it as such because that is the culture I live in.

We view conflict as something that goes in tandem with anger, raised voices, "low blows", and sometimes just straight fighting.  But it is a little more complicated than that.

The fact of the matter is, conflict is a neutral party in all of that.  

That's right, conflict is inherently neutral.  It really boils down to people's reactions when there is conflict, or perceived conflict (pseudo-conflict).

And there is a large variety of reactions to conflict aren't there?  Some choose to face it head on with fire and passion, others try to avoid it all together at all costs, still others might approach conflict with a level head and not bring up the conflict until they feel ready, and the list goes on and on.

Sometimes it leads to the conflict being explosive, and sometimes it is quiet and subtle.  Sometimes it is never resolved, and I feel that might be the most damaging of all.  Assuming of course that all true conflict is over important things.

But there's the rub.  Not all conflict is truly significant.  That is why we have anecdotes like, "know when to pick your fights".  Because sometimes the conflict isn't worth it.  Sometimes the conflict is about how the silverware is placed in the drawer (guilty), or whether or not the toilet paper goes over or under, or if you should have gotten grape instead of strawberry jelly.  Simple things.  Little things.  A whole lot of nothing.

When those moments happen.  When I get riled up over the little things I find that 90% of the time there is something deeper rooted in my heart.  And I have to double check myself frequently when it comes to that sort of thing.  Which, lately, is happening more often than I'd like.

Because, I don't really care if the spoons go on the right, and forks in the middle.  What I do care about is that not having it that way changes how I understand order in my kitchen.  Which can be surprisingly disorienting when you have had it one way for two years and suddenly it's different.

Because they don't really care that you bought grape jelly, what they care about is the fact that they felt you weren't listening when they specifically asked you to get strawberry.

It is, however, really about how the toilet paper is oriented.  That's important stuff!

Only joking.

In truth, many of the more significant conflicts we encounter in our lives have multiple layers of importance.  

For example, if you, my reader, had an issue with me as an author or on a more personal level because of something I said, wrote, did, I would expect you to come and address the issue with me.  That is the way I've always been (I'm a conflict confront-er if you haven't noticed yet).  So when it doesn't happen and I hear about the issue through some other means (because it always seems to come to light eventually) I get a little frustrated, sometimes mad.

I would find myself, then, in conflict with you.  And my reasons may not be what you would expect.  Yes, I expect to be told of conflict because I'd rather resolve it and move on rather than let it stew in a pot of emotions for a while and blow up into hurtful words and broken hearts later. 

But that's just the surface of it. 

I know that deeper rooted in it all I feel like you don't trust me to approach our conflict with a level head.  Or that you think I'll just dismiss what you have to say and thus don't even try.  

Deeper than that I might feel that you don't respect me enough as my friend to try to resolve the issue.  That you don't actually care to make it work and are in this friendship for your own selfish motives.

While none of that may be true, I know that is how I would probably feel.  I'm just as guilty of making others feel that way I'm sure.  It comes with the territory of being human.  So many layers, to so many things, that it takes a lifetime to peel them all back.  Even then, you're just scratching the surface.  

It is amazing how incredibly complex we are.  And conflict is just one of the many things that help us learn about ourselves.  Because peeling off layers is actually quite painful most of the time.  But if we don't shed the skin of old selves and keep improving then we never grow.  We never mature.

That is why I don't actually hate conflict at the end of the day.  I certainly don't like it.  It's painful, it's awkward, and leads to a lot of vulnerabilities if approached correctly. But I also know that it can be very healthy; and helpful in creating self-awareness.

Conflict, in its natural neutrality, has its place in our universe.  And it can be so, so good!  And it can be so, so, so horrible.

It all comes down to the individual.

Just my two cents for today.

Grace and Peace

Life, God, and the Little Things - Part 2

Let’s fast forward a few months.  The nutshell of the months between January – April were essentially a monotonous routine.  Get up, go to work, come home.  Get up, go to church, come home.  All the while, my wife (rightfully so) continuously brought up the desire for children and my consent to try.  There were days when my responses could have been kinder.  But, she is a strong and forgiving woman.   I am so honored to have her as my wife.

My only solace was in my weekends when I could use my writing or games to escape my reality.  I had resigned to my imprisonment.  I think the phrase, “creep along,” would adequately describe my progression to anything.  Every day it was the same old thing.  I was getting further and further behind on my payments for loans until I reached the point that I couldn’t pay them anymore.  My car had broken down with Sam and I working conflicting schedules (we ended up having to borrow a church member’s vehicle).  Funnily enough, I did get it fixed and it broke down on our way up to Ohio two months later.  That’s another story though.

In April, things were beginning to look better.  My old position at work had opened up and the CEO gave me a call and invited me back.  This was the beginning of resolution to a lot of my issues.  While where I was working at the time had a lot of room for potential growth, there was no growth happening and so I ended up jumping on the offer and gradually worked my way into the customer service position that I am part of today.  During this time I also had a friend move in as a house mate until he could find a job in the Birmingham area.  He’s currently still looking.

Within all that chaos of life, I still found myself completely dead to anything related to religion or Christianity.  I was numb.  I didn’t feel anything, even when playing music where I normally would feel alive.  I felt dead to the world.

At this time I was also dealing with an incredible fear.  One that some of you will relate to, and some may think is utterly ridiculous; a fear of death.  A fear, so intense at times, that I was just shy of a full on panic attack or mental breakdown.  Every night the thought would cross my mind and I felt myself feeling sick.  It was a crippling fear.  And on top of that I was afraid to reveal this fear to others.  I was irrationally afraid that people would look down on me in some way, like I was weak or stupid for having such a fear.

That is until I just sort of blurted it out on the trip coming back from Ohio and no one flinched (except me, in expectation of worse).  Since then the fear has subsided, for the most part.  Occasionally it still haunts me, but every time it is significantly less. 

Which is crazy right?  If I am a Christian, shouldn’t I have no fear of death because of the promise of “eternal life”? 

Maybe, but I think if we are all a little more honest with ourselves, we all go through a point where we deal with it.  I think a more accurate metaphor might be that we are all on a plane ride that we know is going to crash at some point.  We don’t when or where, but we do know one thing.  We have a parachute we can use when that happens, and we cling to it so tightly that our knuckles turn white.  Because we know that while it is still going to be a terrifying experience, it is our salvation from a gruesome death.

And I guess that really sums up what I’m driving at with these posts.  An explanation to what I’ve been working through and why I identify myself as Christian.

The thing is, science is great.  It has taught the human race so many things, and I think it’s great for understanding the physical world around us.  It gives us the facts, the logic, the reason.  And generally, it is unbiased in its conclusions.  That is its purpose.

But

I think we forget how important the heart is too.  In our society, Logic and Reason have become the masters.  It’s about the numbers, the facts, the hard tangible evidence.  But it is only one half of the coin.  Our intuition, instincts, and perceptions are just as valid and important.  That gut feeling when you know something is wrong and you turn out to be right.  There was no logical connection but the connection was there nonetheless.  I’m not even talking about our emotions, though they play a role.  The heart plays a role in understanding anything.

Example:  World War II

Factually, we know that it involved most of the countries in the world dividing into two alliances.  We know that roughly 75 million people lost their lives in that war for various reasons directly connected to it.  We know that Hitler was a key figure. But that doesn’t explain what it felt like to experience it.  It’s just the head knowledge.

A gentleman tells you about D-Day.  He explains his fear, the adrenaline rush he feels, the chaos, the horrors.  He explains everything with great detail on the experience.  And you can relate, because you’ve felt shadows of those emotions.  It is a story that connects with your heart.  It’s the heart knowledge.

On their own, the two are good, but when you put them together you get a much more holistic understanding of the event that was World War II.

Simple, I know, but I think it conveys what I’m trying to say well enough.

It is with this heart and head combo that I try to make every decision.  Because sometimes it is better to have mercy, and other times it is better to show none.  Because not everything can be seen with the naked eye, and sometimes you have to read between the lines.

In that pursuit, at this time I’ve concluded God must exist.  Others will conclude that he doesn’t and they are allowed to believe that just as I am entitled to my own beliefs.  But since this is my blog, you are getting my perspective.  Because sometimes it really is the little things that can bring about a whole new understanding.

In this past year, though, I have seen too much to suggest otherwise.  The impeccable timing, the peace when there should be none, among other things.

As a conclusion, I think C.S. Lewis wrote it best when he wrote The Silver Chair:

“One word, Ma'am," he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one more thing to be said, even so. 

Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things-trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. 

So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.”
 

― C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

Grace and Peace