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16 December 2009 @ 01:12 pm
I Am {Not Worthy}  
I always do this. I have some amazing, life-changing experience, and then, just like that, it's gone, and I'm back to my old ways. I stop reading my Bible. I stop praying. I stop caring. God has nothing to do with me, right? I can just live my life and he can see whatever I'll do in the future. That's how this whole thing works, right? Wrong. God has everything to do with you and me. I absolutely cannot just live my life while he can simply see whatever I'll do in the future. This is definitely not how this whole thing works. The worst of it is, though, that I realize this. I know this. There's nothing you can tell me to make me believe otherwise. Doubt if you will, but this is my life. Somehow, though, I let all this slip to the back of my mind. Occasionally, I'm lucky enough that God will drag it to the front of my mind, but I'll shove it back again in the hopes that it'll only resurface in one of those amazing, life-changing moments before I go back to my life again.

Honestly, I can only wonder what is wrong with me? I mean, God freaking came to earth to die for what you and I caused. Excuse my poor cover-up of crude language, but I don't think anything else can show how strongly I feel about this. The human race is diseased. Not a physical disease or even a mental one. We are all suffering from a spiritual disease that every day brings us closer to judgement and condemnation. And it wasn't as if God just decided to give us this disease to bring us closer to him. We chose this, all the back when Eve took the first bite of that apple. Yet, for whatever reason, God loved us enough to actually become human and die. Are you getting this? There's nothing about us that is worthy of this treatment. Sometimes, I just want to be mad at him for treating me better than I deserve.

I don't know if it's just me, but it feels like those times when I get really mad, but in order to be excused from my anger, I blame it on something someone else (usually a brother or sister) has done to me. As the 16 year old and older in the house, they believe me. The younger sibling gets in trouble and I get what I wanted. Except that I know I don't really deserve it, so no matter how much I wanted it, now that I see what it has cost and what it is really worth, I don't want it anymore. I don't deserve it, so I no longer want what I get. Perhaps it's a bad comparison, but I often feel the same about God's love and grace. Sometimes, I don't want to be forgiven. I'd much rather wallow in self-pity and hate myself for what I did than allow God to cover that with every bit of mercy that I would never be able to attain on my own efforts.

Many people I know don't understand why I believe in God. Many people I don't know don't understand why I believe in God. The truth is, though, that I believe in Him because he does something for me that only love can do. I believe in Him because when I least deserve it, he picks me up, dusts me off, and sends me back on the right track again. God isn't some distant figure in the sky who I turn to only when I need help and that gives me too many rules to follow. God gives us what we need most and what we deserve least.

I've been reading The Shack by Wm. Paul Young. I guess you could say I've entered my own sort of Great Sadness. Everything stopped making sense a long time ago, and I've only been holding on because of what I know to be true. Oddly enough, there's a great deal of difference between knowing and believing. It's easy to know the truth. It's a lot harder to understand and believe it to be true.

Anyways, I've been reading this book. It's pretty much changing every way I have ever seen God. Part of me wants to excuse it as false doctrine, as a tale spun by a good writer who only wants to confuse Christian. I don't want to believe that how I have seen God is not exactky who God really is. The other part of me wants so badly to believe it. I want it to be true. I want God to be Papa and Jesus to be the silly, friendly man who is so human. I want the Holy Spirit to be Sarayu, so strange and unbelievable, but fantastic and real all the same.

I don't know. I really don't.

ll I know is that I'm not worthy except by the blood of Jesus and the sacrifice God made.

I know I'll never deserve what I get, but God gives it freely anyway.

None of us are worthy. God makes it so that we are.
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