Stumbling Toward God

Some days you wake up with your head in a cloud
And when you look up a whole year's gone by
-- <LiM>

When I try to look objectively back over the course of my life, I come to the conclusion that I seem to prefer being miserable. That's strange, certainly, yet undeniable none the less. I don't really know what to do with that.

So, over a month ago I picked today as the day that I would dramatically end this blog, but now that it's here, I find that I really don't have anything dramatic to say. I did grow tired from the fact that all the comments I was getting were from the unbelievers' viewpoint - sure makes seeking God seem like a not so valuable use of time... but let's be honest, I was tired a long time before that. Anyway, I have no desire to do a Robert Smith style ending here, so I'm not going to make any promises one way or another.

Lately, I've been consumed with another project that has nothing to do with God. Nothing whatsoever. It's mildly amusing when my Christian friends keep asking what I've been up to, and I know for a stone hard fact that I've been engaging in a form of idolatry, but don't particularly want to come right out and say that.

So, I think this is about the point where I came in.

Happy St. Thomas Sunday.

I did not want to come back from Louisiana. I knew what was waiting for me here. I thought it would be a life-changing experience. "Tell everyone what you saw here," they said.

It's impossible not to think about God in a place like that. It's easy not to think about God in a place like this. It's real easy. Some people do it for their whole lives. I went about a week, avoiding the issues that deep down I knew I would have to face eventually. But it's easy not to.

And in the meantime... I had been wanting for some time to get a definitive recording of my old songs, and this seemed like a good time. I was working on one song in particular and was really pleased with the sounds I was getting with new technology that I could only dream of as a starving artist. But I knew that when it came to recording vocals, I would not be able to do the song justice. I am in a very different place now than when I wrote it, and could never capture the sense of bitterness that the song requires. I needn't have worried, God was all over that one. Circumstances aligned nicely to recreate those old feelings.

It's easy to get to a dark place. It's hard to get back out again. Shouldn't have opened that door, Boy, you knew what was in there... Sometimes the tales say that when you release a spirit from imprisonment, they are so grateful that they will grant you three wishes. I imagine that, more often, they're just mad as hell.

I wrote my last post at about 5:00 am after a sleepless night. Some thoughts that occur in the dead of night really ought to stay in the dead of night. I considered taking it down, but that seems to annoy people, and it's a dangerous precedent.

So often I say nothing at all, but when I do speak, I often wish that I hadn't. I was out with some church folk not long ago, and I'm sure they thought I was just rambling, but I was actually just about to come to a point that would tie it together when suddenly I thought, "WHOA there buddy! Consider your audience!" So I stopped cold, leaving them to just think that I was off my rocker, which is probably accurate anyway.

The blog is tricky thing. I whisper into the wind, but people hear and sometimes what I say comes back again days or even weeks later. It can be difficult to keep in mind an audience one can not see. So forgive the rambling madman, he means not to offend.

There's really no shortage of people that I could talk to. It's just that there's one person in particular that I want to talk to, but that no longer seems to be an option. I do not fully understand why that is either. I could say that the gulf between us has grown so wide and so deep that if we tried to meet half way, we both fall to our deaths. Which is a lovely mental picture, but ultimately, I think it's really just me.

Let me tell you a little about me. On Monday morning I got up and fixed myself a typical breakfast. I sat and stared at it for a minute or so wondering, "What am I supposed to do with that?" The obvious answer would be, "Eat it," but first I should pray and it is also my habit to read the Bible while I have breakfast. Well, I honestly did not want to do either of those things, so I decided not to eat either. I plastic wrapped the whole mess and put it in the refrigerator, and did not eat anything the for rest of the day. Sometimes I get carried away when trying to make a point. I'm not even sure what point, or to whom I was trying to make it in this case. It's just an example of the way I'm wired- everything has to be just right, or else I reject it entirely. All or nothing, no compromises.

It must be maddening trying to talk to me. I tend to answer all personal questions in one sentence or less. One word if I can get away with it. Unless of course, they are "yes or no" questions. I hate "yes or no" questions. I try to favor vagueness over outright lies, but you never know.

It's not like I would ever take a single step out of my way to make a conversation happen. Everything has to be "just so" naturally, remember? And even when they do, I'm not ready. I can't help it if even when you ask the right questions, all I get in my head is a stream of pictures and not a single word. I so desperately want to share it all, but no words come. And all I can do is watch as the gulf grows wider and deeper. I wish it were not so, but as they say, wish in on hand, defecate in the other and see which fills up first.

The rational part of my mind is sickened to be permanently attached to such a whiney little snot. I would gladly leave me behind if I had the chance. "So long chump, I hope you get what's coming to you."

Some say that I'm harder on myself than necessary, but they don't know me like I know me. Besides, there's no one else here to blame.

Sunday nights tend to leave me in a really foul mood. 'Twas not always thus.

For those following closely, it's March, and I just got off an airplane.

(Before you begin, here is something old that I never finished.)

It used to be my job to find places for various things. One day, I was looking for a place to store some block-and-tackles. I realized that an ideal spot would be to hang them on a nearby wall, so in order to confirm this proposition, I placed them exactly where I thought they should go. I watched in disappointment as they dropped in a heap on the floor. An onlooker said that at that moment, he lost all faith in "faith." For there were no hooks of any kind on this wall. I had simply placed them up against the wall and let go, hoping that they would defy gravity of their own accord. My friend claims never before to have seen anyone act with so much confidence in something that so obviously was not true.

As the preacher says, it is not faith that saves you, but faith in the truth.

There is far too much in the world for anyone to take it all in. We have no choice but to be selective. We filter, and thus create our own individual "realities." I get that. But I still contend that there is a greater reality outside of each of our individual realities. I "believe" that there is universal truth that effects all of us, whether we choose to believe it or not. If "truth" and "reality" are only in our heads, then no one would ever get in a car accident. Or, as one speaker put it, "Truth is what you believe. Reality is what you run into when you're wrong."

Some of my readers seem to suggest that I would do well to find my own place in the world, and then find a concept of god that suits me. I reject this outright. If I was simply looking for a "god" as a way to make me feel better, I like to think that I might look for something that actually made me feel better.

I want to know if there is a god that exists outside of my reality and outside of your reality. A god that simply IS, not subject to individual perception or perspective. Is such a thing possible? I do not know, but it seems reasonable to assume that if God exists, and that if He was willing and capable of revealing Himself to mankind in a way that they could comprehend, then He would have done so by now. That if the truth about God can be known, then someone already knows it. I happen to think that such issues of whether or not I actually LIKE God, or whether or not I think that He likes me, are fairly irrelevant to the question of His existence.

Nobody else here, baby.
No one here to blame.
No one to point the finger,
It's just you and me,
And the rain.

Nobody made you do it.
No one put words in your mouth.
Nobody here taking orders,
When love took a train heading south.

It's the blind
Leading the blond.
It's the stuff,
It's the stuff of country songs.

Hey if God will send His angels,
And if God will send a sign;
And if God will send His angels,
Would everything be alright?

God's got his phone off the hook, babe.
Would He even pick up if He could?
It's been awhile since we saw that child
Hanging 'round this neighborhood.
You see his mother dealing in a doorway.
See Father Christmas with a begging bowl.
Jesus sister's eyes are a blister,
The High Street never looked so low.

It's the blind leading the blond.
Its the cops, collecting for the cons.
So where is the hope, and where is the faith,
And the the love...?
What's that you say to me?
Does love...
Light up your Christmas tree?
The next-
Minute-
You're blowing a fuse
And the cartoon network
Turns into the news.

If God will send His angels,
And if God will send a sign,
Well if God will send His Angels,
Where do we go?
[Where do we go?]

Jesus never let me down.
You know Jesus used to show me the score.
Then they put Jesus in show business.
Now it's hard to get in the door. [Angel]

It's the stuff,
It's the stuff of country songs.
But I guess,
It's something to go on.

Hey if GOD will send His angels,
Sure could use them here right now.
Well if God will send his angels...

...and I don't have to know how.
...and I don't need to know why.
...and I don't want to promise.
...and I don't want to lie.
...just when I need to...
...tonight.

[Soulless, soul down
By your door]
--U2

Last week, I went to a talk given by Lee Strobel, a very well known Christian apologist. Lee Strobel also claims to have been an atheist for thirty years. He said a great many interesting things, but the one that has stuck with me the most is when he stated that Christians have an unfair advantage in debate, because "The truth is on our side."

Atheists obviously do not like Lee Strobel. Initially this troubled me. "How can you not like him?" I ask to the imaginary group of atheists. "He was one of you!" But that assertion is down right idiotic. He is obviously not an atheist.

So I have to wonder, what makes a guy like this tick? After thirty years of atheism, how can he stand there and so openly declare that Christians have truth on their side? How is he not haunted by the doubts and struggles that I battle daily? Perhaps he was not really an atheist. Could he just be saying that to try to add what hip hop would call "street cred" to his message? Maybe he was really just casually indifferent for awhile, and not a real hard core disbelieving skeptic.

That could be, but still it does not seem to get to the real core of the matter. At some point, it came up that his wife was a Christian first. AHA! Now this is significant. I think many, if not all of you would agree that the rules guiding a man's life change when there is a woman involved. reason and rationality are usually the first to go.

So I can not help but to question, if this man became a Christian because of his wife, can that really be considered a legitimate conversion?



does that count?

I went to a party tonight. It was an entertaining time, for most of it. As things were winding down and a lot of people had left, two people were engaged in a deep theological discussion off to themselves. I was somewhat participating in another activity with far less cosmic significance. Perhaps I don't need to say, I was deeply envious of those other two. But it definately did not seem like the sort of conversation that was open to a third party stumbling in late. I went away sad.

Why can't I ever get involved in deep theological disscusion? I mean seriously, what is it that is stopping me? I honestly do not know why I can't; all I know is that it doesn't happen. Back when I was going to a new church every week, one thing that I really desired was to have someone to go to lunch with afterwards and discuss the sermon. Now I go to lunch with a group nearly every week after church, but most weeks I think that I would be hard pressed to even recall the title of the sermon by the time we get to the restaurant. Where did it all go wrong?

Or perhaps a more pressing question, why do I have to get depressed over every single event of every day? Why can't I ever be thankful, content, joyful, about anything? Ever? All I do is complain about the same crap over and over. Who's fault is any of this but my own? Why don't I just shut up and start taking some action? I am so sick of me.

I'm sorry about the attitude
I need to give when I'm with you
But no one else would take this shit from me
I'm so terrified of no one else but me
I'm here all the time
I won't go away

Yeah, it's me.
But I can't get myself to go away
It's me, but I can't get myself to go away
Oh God, I shouldn't feel this way
--Matchbox 20

On another level, I recognize that this has happened before, when God has said to me, "You know that thing that you want more than anything? Not only am I not going to give it to you, but I'm going to give it to someone else, right in front of you. Whatcha gonna do about that?"

I've been here before. I know how this ends. I just hope that I learned something last time.