Apathy

In my humanities majors, I was taught to notice trends, extremely helpful in any humanity major. I have also been able to notice trends in my own life, and one characteristic of the season that I am in now is the grace of an acute self-awareness: God has been making many things apparent to me about myself that I did not know. One of these things I have been searching for for years.
Over the past two years I have noticed a startling and very unfortunate trend in my life: desensitization. I have noticed that many things that used to affect me simply no longer do. I had been noticing myself getting tired more and the things that I saw, that I did, that I sang, that I read, that I prayed, the people I saw and listened to and loved, none of these things affected me the same. It was as if I had been becoming desensitized to them. I cried less the past two years (which believe it or not is actually not a good thing), and I just felt more checked out of life. I sometimes felt like this manifested in lower love for people, decreased ability to feel emotion, or some other way that I felt just...less than I used to be. This was most noticeably evident in my faith; my prayers had become more mundane, my worship was no longer tearful, tear-jerking, and overall I just cared less, about everything. I noticed these trends, and they hurt. I doubt anybody else noticed them, only occasionally did people say, "You haven't really seemed like yourself lately," which I could always chock up to misinterpretation or increased fatigue. But I noticed it a lot this year, it felt like my drives were not as fired up, and while I was still growing, a lot, there was something off. Songs that used to bring me to tears, like John Mark McMillans How He Loves Us hardly had any affect on me. I hid this all very well, yet it was always, always in the back of my mind, occasionally pushing its way to the front to taunt me. At times I thought it spiritual attack, other times I just felt overwhelmed with inquiries about if I was still the same person. And all I heard from God on it was to trust Him with everything, to seek first His Kingdom and His righteousness and He would take care of everything else, and He had, always. The weird thing about it always was that I did not understand my own depravity or God's own goodness any less, I actually understood those tenants more, yet it still felt like those truths were not pushing me like they used to. Eventually I learned to ignore these things as the business of life and the need to keep going shoved these thoughts much further back in my mind.
Lately though, I have noticed my life described perfectly by Paul's words in Romans 7: "18b For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it." I have noticed another trend lately, a lack of desire, a decreased drive, the usual trend and hurts, just a dull, frightening, numbness. And finally today, after years of searching, bandaging, thinking more programs or a better understand of myself would be the answer, after thinking this was the new me, after near despair, I believe that God has given me the answer: I am apathetic.
I realized today that there is a part of me that just does not care, about anything. It is why it is so hard for me to be good, hard for me to be selfless, to not be lazy, because part of my soul has been rotting. I am still trying to figure out why, and I do not know. Perhaps it is due to stuff buried very deep, I'm sure part of it is poison that this culture has dealt me. But the simple reality is that part of me just does not care, about God, about my life, about the numerous people I Love, about doing what I am supposed to. It hurts me, but it makes so much sense; this part of me has flared up to various degrees and frequencies over the past couple of years. It ultimately puts a limit on how well I will know my God, and how much I will serve Him. This relatively small part of me shapes the character I have and the good I want to do. And I hate it. I wish that there is just some internal switch that I could flip and once again the fullness of who I am would care. I am nearly in tears writing this, and I am not fully sure what to do with this information, except pray, finally knowing exactly how to, finally with possession of the decrepit answer that I have been searching for for years. I feel like a certain part of my soul has been rotting away, and at least in part, affecting the rest of me. I feel my brokenness so tangibly today, and even now, I can feel this poison trying to work on me.
Again, I do not know what to do. I have a deep fear that this is not going to go away. That I will simply, sadly, be more aware of it. I have to trust God to take it away, or else my soul will continue to rot. At the very least, I know how to pray now, and I am confident that the month of August will be a busy, busy wrestling match. Life does not slow down in order to allow me to learn how to be effective again, life does not stop so that I may apply the antidote, so that I can let things affect me again. Oh, how I desire that, deeply, deeply.
Reader, if you have made it this far, I thank you. It means you really care about me. I do not understand this fully, but I know that I do not want to face this alone. I will be praying that things once again affect me, and that I learn to care, deeply, about the things I Love.
The start of the wikipedia article on apathy unfortunately describes me so well:
"Apathy (also called impassivity or perfunctoriness) is a state of indifference, or the suppression of emotions such as concern, excitement, motivation and passion. An apathetic individual has an absence of interest in or concern about emotional, social, spiritual, philosophical and/or physical life.
They may lack a sense of purpose or meaning in their life. An apathetic person may also exhibit insensibility or sluggishness. In positive psychology, apathy is described as a result of the individual feeling they do not possess the level of skill required to confront a challenge (i.e. "Flow"). It may also be a result of perceiving no challenge at all (e.g. the challenge is irrelevant to them, or conversely, they have learned helplessness)." I need to pray through the fear.

Terrifying Devotion

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." If this is at all true, then the shepherds at the beginning of Luke had at least the stepping stones of wisdom. The glory of the Lord shone around them and they were terrified. And really, that makes sense if you take God at His word, for who He is. God is terrifying, and I do not apologize if that is not how you think about God. Because if it is not, then you have an incorrect view of God. I think Leonard Ravenhill gets something right when he speaks on this:
"Listen, when you see Jesus, you’re not going to go up and say “Hey buddy, I’m glad You died for me.” When you see Jesus you will be almost paralyzed with fear unless you have a glorified body and a glorified mind."
And this is something that I have realized so palpably lately. There's a lot that has been on my mind, believe me, and thus there will likely be a lot of blog posts to come, but this one is on devotion. I just have to set it up with the fact that God is terrifying. Even angels, when seen in scripture, are terrifying and have to assure people not to be afraid. How much more so would God just make you shudder in fear of who He is? The greatest thing is that we have no need to fear anything else as long as we are with God, but God is frightening.
However, another thing that I have come to realize is that my faith is pathetic, utterly, laughably pathetic. I profess to follow God and yet so often I do things that I have not earned the right to do. I have not lived a perfect life, no my life has been grossly imperfect. Therefore, I am in debt. The scandal of grace that somehow my debt has been paid, but I have to understand that until I have lived an utterly perfect, flawless life, which I have already squandered the opportunity to do, I have no right but to live every moment in sheer devotion to the one who saved me; I must die to myself that He may be lifted higher, every second of my day, my life, giving up things that I love and long for so that He may be lifted higher. If that does not sit well with you, check your heart, that you understand what you have been saved from, the depths of depravity that you are, you redeemed sinner.
As I sit here now writing this, I quake at the thought of what my life looks like. Would somebody be able to boldly, confidently proclaim that I love Christ by looking at my life? Sadly, I am not sure, but I am frightened of the presence of this God. I think that is a good place to start.
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom."

What Have you Been Saved From?

This is the question that has been buzzing around in my heard the past few days. I have been listening to a few things by Leonard Ravenhill, a man who knows who he is and what he has been saved from and to. Of course, I also purport to have been saved, I frequently say that Christ has saved me and that I am better off because I am with Him, but from what have I been saved? One of Ravenhill's main tenants is that if I am indeed changed by the love and life and death of Christ it should show; my life should look differently certain than beforehand but also different than those around me. I have the Spirit of the Living God inside of me, and that should affect my entire life. I have been saved, but if that is ever just something that I say and not something that is noticeable than there is something entirely wrong. If that is just something that I say and change is not immediately noticeable than I need do some very serious heart searching. The reality is that I want "eternity stamped on my eyeballs." I have been saved, from a worthless, valueless, purposeless, jealous, lustful life, swayed so easily by simple, fleeting pleasures that hold no real meaning. I have been saved to the man that now writes these words. I in no way deserve it, but I have been saved from so much, changed, sanctified, or should I say being sanctified into perfection. I will never get there, and I am certainly no there now, but I desire death, not physical death, but I desire to be held with a man who died, a man who gave himself up for my sake. The scandal of Grace. I desire to put to death my sin and live as though it has lost all power in my life. I desire fire, fire does not need to be advertised, it does not need to be exclaimed, it draws people in, draws people to itself. I do not want to draw people to myself, but to Him, the real heat source. I have been saved from so much. And my prayer now is enunciated so accurately and appropriately by Ravenhill:
"You know, if we can’t live as a different breed of people on this earth, we have no right to live here. And if we get back to a people who are really baptized with obedience, submissive to the total will of God. Not concerned about human opinion, not asking for more to spend prodigally on ourselves but say, “Oh God, I want this life of mine adjusted so when I stand in Your awesome presence.” As James says – we shall not be ashamed of His appearing."
I want to be of Christ, to spend time on my knees to Him. Oh that I would understand this more, that I would value Him so much more, that I would Love Him so much more, because the simple fact is that I have been saved, saved from tangible sins to heaven on earth, life abundant lived now.
So, what have you, reader, been saved from? Surely you have been saved, and from what? And if you feel as though you have not been saved, understand that you can be, it is offered free of charge, you need simply accept it. Free for you that is, it was more costly than anything else. You can be saved. And believe me, it is Grace.

Without Him

What will I do without him next year? We have woven our lives together for more than three years and I am at a loss for how to make up for this loss. He has loved me well, rebuked me well, and been a safe, open place for me to come to. He has helped pick me up after failures and has rejoiced with me through victories. He was always quick to ask what was on my heart, and more than that, there was perhaps nobody better at noticing when I was hiding something. We ate together, we laughed together, we lead together, and in the process he became a brother and a friend of the highest quality. There are other people I will miss, certainly, but he has been with me through so much these past four years, always been an ally, even when I treated him poorly. He reflected my God to me in the way that he acted, what he said to me, and how he encouraged me. I have written about him before, but there is saying that says, 'you do not know what you have until it is gone.' I know what I have in a friend like him, but likely will not truly understand until he is not there to come home to anymore, than it will really hit me. We each were placed, I believe into each others lives at crucial points and for crucial reasons. He is a man that I was able to love well, but I do not know, and I highly doubt, that I meant nearly as much to him as he did to me, and that reflects nothing more than the sheer volume of love that I felt from him. I searched for a friend like him for a long time, and when I delighted and thanked God for him and how often he prayed for me. This is a commemorative post, but as with much of the summer, it is a post about what is on my mind and my heart, and that is a man that I love so much.

Depriving a King of What is Rightfully His

What is rightfully the King's? Everything, and nothing short of it. The crazy thing is, the crazy gospel thing, is that the King of creation, He whom creation was created to worship, Loves us each intimately more than we could know. This being said, you are his treasure, his inheritance, and there is little that the King loves more than to spend time with you. The sad thing is how often we deprive Him of that, using the free will that He has graced us with to deny Him time with us. How perverse is this in light of everything. You see, when you neglect to spend time with God, it is not just you not spending time with God, it is that you are denying God time to be with you. It is amazing that we have the ability to deny the King the right to time with His bride, but we do.
So read carefully, reader and do not walk away and forget what you look like; you were created to worship. There is a King who so enjoys being with you, a creator who knit you together perfectly before time began, giving you gifts in yourself and in Him, twisting you together uniquely so that you could enjoy Him. Do not deny Him what is rightfully His, but allow Him the fullness of time with you that He deserves. It is in your best interest, where you find the fullness of life, peace, love, and correction. You are not right, evidenced by the fact that you would ever deny the King what is rightfully His. Enter His presence, His correction, His peace, and His joy. Ultimately you're doing yourself a favor, but how crazy that the King loves it too!

Thursday Post-Mark 15

It was just like any other story. They have seen it countless times, a criminal hung on a tree to be put to death. This type of execution is not all that uncommon in the Roman World. The thought of it is repulsive, but that is what they are going for: people would be so repulsed that they would dare not commit a similar crime, ever. But what is His crime, exactly? The two around him are clear: crooks, thieves, even rumors of murders. We put up with the often bizarre Jewish customs, but why hang this man? I have asked around and nobody can give me quite the same answer. And of all the Centurions, I have been assigned the task of standing here, watching Him die, making sure nobody comes and tries to stop it. And I oblige them, but his breathing is not like other men.
Why do they hate Him so? I have asked around and nobody can give me a straight answer beyond some remark about religious doctrine and conflicting reports of blasphemy. Everyone around reacts with some emotion toward this man, some with sheer hate, some with jealousy-driven suspicion, some with weeping and deep sorrow. I see His mother, at least I have been told that it is His mother. I have never seen someone weep the way that she does now. But anybody who thinks that this is some ordinary criminal is overlooking the facts, the darkness, the emotions, the touch of radiance in a face bruised beyond recognition.
My fellow soldiers sneer, the religious leaders sneer, the common folk sneer, all because He claimed He was God. And yet I have the best view, of death. It is clear as he breaths His last, speaks words I understand, yet do not. It is clear this is no ordinary story, this is no ordinary execution. He claimed to be a Son of God, they say. I see the Glory literally fade from His eyes as His Spirit leaves. I do not fully know where His Spirit is going, but one thing is clear from the debacle of a death: this man, whomever He was, was a Son of God. That cannot be denied.
He claimed to be a Son of God. He was not wrong. He could not have been wrong, and yet, as this darkness claims the land, despite the earthquake, He must have been a Son of God. I see the blood and water pour out, I see His death. Why? Why would a God kill his Son? What would compel a God to torment His Son so viciously, so completely obliterating Him?
I must seek Him out. He is dead, but perhaps His witnesses remember His words, remember more fully that glory that I only saw a mere fading glimpse of. I will seek these people out, to remember this man, this Son of God. Come, let us inquire of Him.

Home?

"When are you heading home?" "You going home this weekend?" "I might be going home for a few weeks this summer."
These are all things that you hear frequently when you live in a college town like I do. It's strange, but I assume that these sentiments come from people who have at least outwardly Pristine families. It is different for me though. Do not get me wrong, I Love my family a lot, but it is not at all cookie cutter. Santa Barbara is more of my home than anywhere else, but I engage in the lingo. I say "I'm going home this weekend," but it is more because "I'm going back to the city that I grew up in" is far too verbose. All this to say, I often feel a tad nomadic, and I have posed the question many times to people-at what point are you no longer going home, and instead going to visit family? Nobody seems to have a clear answer, and perhaps there is not one.
But I feel like the point is that we need reconsider our definition of "home," because for me it is where I live, in a Podunk, ghetto, overcrowded, college town. This is my home, and when I leave, I am never going home, but leaving home. Philosophically though, it is a question as to what "home" actually is-where the heart is? where your family is? wherever the individual chooses? a physical building? I honestly do not have an answer. I just am commenting that all of this lingo seems incorrect to and for me. Some small part of me thinks that home is somewhat impossible to define, especially without a wife and kids. Then you bring in more lingo "oh, he went home home." It all just gets lost on me.
Final thoughts: I am so very glad that I do not belong to this place, not the house that I am writing this in, that is up for debate, but to this plant, this world itself. I was made for somewhere greater, and that is my home, my heavenly home. No matter where I am here I am simply passing through, and I so look forward to the day that I am able to be truly home. Regardless of how you define family, my father will be there, and that is enough for me. I trust Him and if the house that He is preparing for me is half as beautiful as He is, I have much to look forward to.

Relationships

"Relationships are fun, but that's not what they are." That is a quote by Jordan Marshall, a now married man who has poured his life into me for the past four years. He is a man who's advice I generally take no matter what, and when he tells me something, I am inclined to believe him. I think that this quote gets at something, but really the word that is left out is "about." "Relationships are fun, but that's not what they are about." This is the backdrop to my thoughts on relationships.
Relationships are fun, but they are also really difficult and extremely risky. Risky in that I have seen the absolute most hurt in relationships. Divorces, break-ups, tears, etc. It so often leads to pain. And we all try to avoid pain, consciously or not. The thing is, we love relationships. There is an allure about them that draws us in. It's something that we do not otherwise have the same element of touch, the same person who will continually support us and build us up and point us. We lose someone who has 'those feelings' for us, which always feels good. There is nothing quite like relationships, but they are incredibly dangerous. Investing emotionally, spiritually, and especially physically that much into someone only to have them change and turn their back can be heartbreaking, or worse. I have seen so many tears, so much pain; worse, I have caused much pain. I would implore anybody to take relationship risk seriously and enter into it with only the fiercist of calculation and trepidation. Trust God, most definitely, but understand that there is a risk that is always run. That risk is serious and undeniably difficult to traverse, but must be done so carefully.
"Relationships are hard, but that is not what they are." Some very wise words, right there. We need not engage willy-nilly, but must be extremely careful.
~Good Luck and Good Eats.