A week or so ago, I wrote a post that I must admit I no longer stand by. I made a stand, and spent the next twenty four hours or so in intense confusion and turmoil. I came out on the other side of that hellish day more convinced than ever that I am entirely unprepared to have an opinion. And that's going to have to be okay.
I'm constantly questioning. It doesn't stop; I can't silence the voices; logical arguments are entirely unconvincing. Faith is a constant battle for me; I try to find a balance between silencing the questions and allowing myself to expose them to the light of day.
Because it really is about balance.
I know so many Christians for whom faith is a system of questions and answers. I used to be one of those Christians. For these people, we just need two or three isolated Bible verses to support our claim, and at that point it's case closed. For these people questions have straight forward, comprehensible answers. Homosexuality is wrong because the Bible clearly says so in Romans 1. We are saved by grace alone because of Ephesians 2:8-9. The world was created in seven days because "and there was morning and there was evening the xth day." For these Christians, anyone who steps outside any one of these boundaries is in danger of the fires of hell.
And I'm coming to know some Christians for whom faith is all about doubt. Doubt is celebrated, certainty mocked. Life is about not knowing, God is far away and silent on any practical level. Emotion rules as long as it's the emotion of uncertainty and doubt. Those who are certain are quite possible "modern-day Pharisees," but not in danger of the fires of hell, because hell doesn't have fire. A hell that is filled with fire is a medieval invention.
I want you to know, my friends, that I wish so much that my constant theme here on this blog was not my doubt.
I want you to know how much I have to work to suppress the deep and ultimately unstoppable fear I deal with every day that my doubts and questions condemn me to the depths of hell. At times my cynicism cripples me. I find myself tongue-tied with Christians and non-Christians alike. Terrified of leading others astray, terrified of condemnation by those who cannot understand the questions that plague me.
I waver between being thankful for the questions, because in asking them I feel in a strange way more alive than I ever thought possible; and being angry at the questions, these questions that require me to approach life in an entirely different way than my friends, these questions that I used to think marked someone as a heretic.
Some days, I'm more willing to be honest about the questions that plague me than other days. Most days I don't tell a soul. I don't even admit the questions to myself. Most days I retreat to some semblance of my former self, a self that was skilled at suppressing doubt and fear. Most days the only time I allow my doubt to surface is here on my blog and with a few trusted friends. Most days my mess is quiet and understated.
Sometimes it feels like the only way to stay sane is to pretend to have it all together.
But I don't have it all together. I'm a mess.
I trust in a Savior in whom I don't always believe. I don't have much figured out, least of which the hot-button issues for which everyone else seems content with the Bible verses. I'm not content. I'm struggling with submitting myself to a God I don't understand. I'm struggling because I know ultimately God demands my surrender to His will. I am learning every day to follow Him, and it's not always easy. I don't know where this path will lead, which human voices to follow.
I know this, though.
God is merciful and gracious. I walk in a relationship with Him that is incredibly hindered by my sin, but that is nevertheless saturated by grace. I'm learning. It's slow and it's painful. But I trust my Jesus. I trust Him with everything in me. I don't trust myself, I don't trust my friends, I don't trust the angry bloggers on either sides of the divide. I trust Love.
I trust that He calls me to love with a fraction of the love which He loved me.
And for now, that has to be enough.
In the end, I trust God has a reason for having said the things He did in the Bible, even if I don't always comprehend what He meant. I'm gonna do my best to live my life in respect of that which I'll never entirely understand.
His yoke is easy, His burden light.
That I know like the air I breathe.
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