Worthless

There are times I feel utterly worthless. It usually happens when I look inside myself and see how disgustingly selfish I am. The times when I don’t have the desire to hear from God because I’m scared of what He’ll ask me to do. The times when I don’t want to worship him because I’m too busy blaming Him. The times when I don’t feel very loving towards Him because I’m mad at Him. I’ve even blamed Him for my lack of love towards him before. How messed up is that?! Then I feel guilty—guilty that I don’t care. Guilty that all I can think about is me. Guilty for not loving others, or not being filled with God to pour into others, or not listening to Him. Guilty for feeling like all that I do is out of a feeling of responsibility/duty and not out of genuine desire or passion. Guilty that my highest desire is to just not hurt inside. Then I get mad at myself and sometimes God and then feel guilty for blaming Him for feeling guilty… yeah. I guess it’s not hard to figure out why I sometimes feel worthless. And I could open the huge can of worms about lies of the Devil right now, but that’s not the point of this discourse. My point is actually eloquently put in a song: “My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought, my sin not in part, but the whole was nailed to the cross and I bear it no more, praise the Lord! Praise the Lord oh my soul!” (The previous verse states,  “Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control; that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed his own blood for my soul.”) This is love. This is the gospel. Not by work lest any man should boast, but by faith are we granted access into heaven. (Not that I shouldn’t strive for righteousness,) but even in my horrid, selfish, “worthless” state all I have to do is come to Jesus in faith and ask Him to erase the board. And he will! God coming down in human form because of ridiculous, selfish people like me, and dying to give them a way to heaven. Wow. Maybe I have worth after all…

Chapter 5

The older I get, the more I think I understand why Jesus talks about us needing to be like children to enter the kingdom of heaven. Have you noticed how complicated life gets when you're older?! The more "mature" I get, the less I seem to see things clearly.

I remember being five years old and Christianity made complete sense. (Inasmuch as I could grasp it.) I knew Jesus loved me. There was no question in my mind. I knew that he and God were somehow the same being and I knew that he listened to me when I talked to him. And I knew that the thing that would make him the most happy in all the world was if he, "lived inside my heart." (Now my five-year-old mind grasped this a bit like a genie--phenomenal cosmic power; itty, bitty living space.) And knowing how much he loved me and how much he wanted to be "in my heart," I did the most rational thing. I invited him to live there.

So what happened since then? Now I have so many "logical" arguments waging war in my brain! I've learned that people can falsely profess love. I've learned that the world only gives you so many chances. I've learned that if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. And these learnings then rear their ugly heads in the direction of my beloved God. And I'm plagued with questioned like, "Does he really love me, or does he just use humanity to his benefit?" "How many chance do I get before he gives up on me?" "Does he really have plans to prosper me, does he really love lavishing gifts on me, cause that sounds too good to be true." And I find myself, fighting to accept things that as a child I took for granted.

Childlike faith. The ability to accept God at his word. The ability to trust in his provision. The ability to let go of stressful things we feel the need to control. Wouldn't that be nice?

Chapter ...Yesterday

I heard a great analogy of the human to God relationship the other day. I was talking with a friend and she was telling me about a concert she went to see. She had been waiting for this concert for months. She loved the artists songs and was totally psyched. She even waited to buy the newest CD because somehow it would be better--more special--if she could get it there. But to her great disappointment, the concert wasn't that amazing. Don't get me wrong, it was good, but it was just... a concert. Afterwards she stood in outrageous lines to get her new CD signed. The first time she tried (at intermission) they had cut the line off before she could get up to the artist. So here she was again. You can probably guess what happened. They cut the line off for the second time. Completely dismayed she begged to be able to get in--she had waited twice now! Finally the attendant suggested she try to get in the other line. So she did. And finally got to meet the artist, who even excused himself from a group of fans to sign her CD (asking her name to make the note more personal) and took a picture with her. Still, in the end she walked away feeling a little let down by the whole experience and offhandedly commented to me that it made her realize that just because she listened to the music, and bought the CD and got it signed and had a picture taken, didn't mean that she had any real relationship with the artist it was all superficial. And I thought, "Oh my goodness! That's it!" As humans, we can hear about God from other people, we can know facts, we can have bumper stickers and t-shirts, and pictures of a Jesus (that ironically looks like he walked right out of our own ethnicity), and still not know God. And the scary part is that it's so easy to think that we do. So here's my question: How well do you really know God?

Chapter 18-26

Did you know that joy and sorrow can be experienced simultaneously? That Happiness (aside from those who wrestle with clinical depression) is a choice, and that God can be found even in the tough times? I know it (my brain registers the idea) but sometimes I don't know it. Sometimes I doubt that He cares. Too often I let my emotions shape my beliefs. Too often I look toward heaven and cast blame rather than search for stability. But God is good and he can be found in the tough times. David knew this to be true, for he penned the 23rd Psalm which among other things asserts, "Yes, even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and staff comfort me." Now I'm going to be stealing some ideas from a few sermons I've heard, so please don't think I came up with this on my own. But David really hit on some profound things in these few lines. Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Not the valley of death, but the valley of the shadow of death. (Which, from what I've been told is actually a real valley that David would have seen btw.) Shadows tend to be bigger than the thing casting them and shadows don't actually have real substance. But they can be scary none the less. Shadows scared me as a child. Shadows are dark and evil tends to like to lurk in darkness. But shadows also cannot be present without light. They in in of themselves cannot hurt us. As one speaker said, "I would much rather be run over by the shadow of a truck..." And God is with us. It may not seem like it. I have definitely had my share of, "are you listening?! Do you even care? Are you even up there?" moments. And eventually I get the answer and am shamed by my lack of trust in Him. 

Trust. Huh. That seems to really be the key. "Religion" means nothing in the valleys. (Or in the deserts. When we're in the desert, religion won't quench our thirst or shield us from the hot sun. We can see it in the Israelites when they escaped egypt and went into the wilderness. Over and over and over again God in His own way said, "Trust me." Why was it so important that they learn this one concept? Because we will have trouble in this world. And yes, He has overcome the world, but do we trust Him enough to see that victory? I heard another speaker say, "The desert place is where faith goes to solidify or to die." How true.) So how do we experience joy in times of sorrow? How to we choose to be happy? How do we find God in the hard times? Maybe it begins with learning how to trust Him with more than an hour on Sunday and fifteen minutes the rest of the week. Maybe it means seeking Him out in the hard times rather than avoiding Him in anger. Maybe it means letting go, (because honestly, how much control do we really have in life?) and looking to God to tell us what to do with life, day by day. Scary. What if He asks you to do something hard? What if He asks you to do something you don't want to do? On the other hand, what if you never ask, never look, never try? Could it be that people who live in reckless abandonment of Self find purpose, and ambition, and desire, and drive? Could it be that they know God on a personal level and therefore don't have to struggle to trust Him? Could it be that they are tapping into a life-source that enables them to find joy and peace and passion? 

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want (for He will provide all I need). He makes me lay down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. And even if (or should I say when) I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod (used to defend) and your staff (used to guide and rescue) comfort me. 

Did you know that joy and sorrow can be experienced simultaneously? That Happiness (for the most part) is a choice, and that God can be found even in the tough times? I know it... and I pray that He will help me learn to trust Him so that I also know it.  

Chapter 16

"You know when I said I knew little about love?  Well, that wasn't true.  I know alot about love.  I've seen it.  I've seen centuries and centuries of it.  And it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable.  All those wars.  Pain and lies.  Hate.  Made me want to turn away and never look down again.  But to see the way that mankind loves.  I mean, you could search the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful.  So, yes, I know that love is unconditional.  But I also know it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and, well, strangely easy to mistake for loathing.  And, what I'm trying to say, Tristan, is I think I love you.  My heart, it feels like my chest can barely contain it.  Like it doesn't belong to me anymore, it belongs to you.  And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange.  No gifts, no goods, no demostrations of devotion.  Nothing but knowing you love me, too.  Just you heart in exchange for mine."


-STARDUST




Ah love. Tis a subject I have (not surprisingly) meditated on a lot. And it seems like the more I meditate on it, the more complicated it becomes to wrap my mind around, much less describe accurately. However, one of the things that I am becoming increasingly aware of is that it is grossly mistaken for lust. True love is selfless but I feel like what we see in movies and read about in contemporary novels is much of the time anything but selfless. I even find in my own life, that I struggle with selfish desires. For years I've thought about what I want in a husband. What I desire to get out of him instead of what I want to give. I've said things like, "I hope he can dance..." or "I would love it if he was into Shakespeare..." I watch romantic flicks and think, "I want a guy like that, I want to be loved like that, I want someone to give themselves like that for me..." Now I'm not saying love is not to be enjoyed. It is! But love is not only about you. It's not only about me. It's not a mere feeling in the pit of our stomach, or the electricity of a glance, a touch, or a whisper. Love, true love, is a give an take. It's an exchanging of thought--I stop thinking of myself to think of the other person, and they do the same for me. I once told a friend in regards to finding a husband, "Don't look for the perfect guy, or the guy for you, look for the guy that makes you forget about yourself because you're too busy thinking about fulfilling him." Afterwards I thought, "Man, I need to listen to my own advice!"  Love is humble and patient and polite and selfless, forgiving, generous, truthful, trusting, hopeful and strong. Now I've been giving examples of romantic love, but this list is true for any relationship. True love for parents, children, siblings, and friends fits these adjectives as well. And most importantly, they apply to God. Without understanding what true love is, I believe that it is impossible to understand Him. But that is a tangent that holds 20+ pages, so I will hold off. Suffice to say how amazing would it be if we loved passionately and selflessly...




"I will have poetry in my life. And adventure. And love. Love above all. No... not the artful postures of love, not playful and poetical games of love for the amusement of an evening, but love that... over-throws life. Unbiddable, ungovernable - like a riot in the heart, and nothing to be done, come ruin or rapture. Love - like there has never been in a play."

-Shakespeare In Love

Chapter 21

As I begin to type this I am laughing internally at myself because I'm only on the "third" chapter of this story and yet I'm already going to repeat myself:  "I love how God repeats lessons if we don't soak them in the first time." Back a few years ago I was part of a ministry called Primary Focus/Living Proof. That year of my life alone could fill a book, but right now I'm just going to focus on one week. One day  of one week to be exact. I don't even remember the reason it all began anymore, but out of some inspiration or another I decided to take a week to be silent. No talking unless to answer someone or in productions. The last day of my self-imposed muteness, I took some time to reflect on what I had discovered. The biggest revelation was how selfish talking allows us to be. When I fasted from it, I couldn't put my two cents in when my team discussed where they wanted to eat, or what they wanted to do with the three free hours we had. If someone's comment sparked a witty remark in my mind, I couldn't say it. And why did I have the desire to say it anyway? So that people could see me as smart, or quick, or funny.  I discovered that most of the things I would have naturally said were to bring focus to self. I want to explain something, because I feel smart for having that knowledge. I have a funny story I want to share because I want to be seen as entertaining. I want to speak against this theory or idea because I think I'm right and I want people to know it. How often are the things that come out of our mouths used to puff up self? (Now rarely do I ever consciously realize my true motivations, but I can't deny them when I sit down to meditate on why I say the things I do.) Recently I was reminded yet again of these truths. Oh how deep self runs, with long twisting roots. Perhaps this is why we are cautioned to be quick to listen and slow to speech. What could I learn about those around me if I wasn't focused on what I was saying, or going to say, and I shut up and listened? How much deeper could my empathy, and love, and care for others go if I gave over my proverbial "microphone." And maybe now is the time to start just that. So what were you saying?