Faith: Experience vs. Education

     This post already has the air of formality and wisdom, doesn't it?   Do you know how I did that?  I prepped you.  I put two four syllable words in the title on both sides of a 'vs'.  Now, I'm not sure that's an exact technique they teach in marketing class but you learn over the years that certain words and phrases catch the eye and leave the reader curious enough to want to know more,  entertained enough to want to laugh further or outraged enough to keep reading in order to form his/her own counterpoint.  It's manipulation in print.

Welcome to politics.
Welcome to the world of business.
Welcome to Bible study!

     I once told a friend of mine that he made a great preacher.  He was humble and honest and faithful and you could tell from the pews that his intentions were to share the love he had been shown.  He felt inadequate for not having had any formal training from a bible college.  Having been the wife of a bible college student I told him, 'Bible school isn't where you learn about God.  It's where you learn how to sell Him."  It seems I'm very wise.

     And before I go further I want to state as fact that I love my God.  I love His Word as well and there are very few things in this world that disgust me more than seeing either of them misused or misrepresented.  I don't believe any form of manipulation is appropriate or necessary to get the point of God's love across to an audience.  I cringe at women centered studies which always seem focused on emotional pleas and flower printed cries of confession and outpouring gushes of sisterhood.  Yech!  I feel manipulated again.  And after it's all said and done and the study or conference or small group is over we go back home, sometimes reread, recry and pray about what we've heard, and more often than not change is not present.  Things don't change in your life when you're manipulated.  Do you know why?  Because you're smarter than you probably think, and not always in a way that helps you.  You've picked up on the forced emotional trigger and because you've played your part by reacting in the predictable way (gasps, sobs, looks of shock and disgust) nothing more is required of you.  You've participated, have been affected, shook hands with the speaker or leader on the way out and exchanged comments on the importance of the lesson or sermon.

     If you really want change, you need to seek it out yourself.  To know God you must engage Him.  Call Him out!  He's there, waiting for the smoke of advice-givers, study notes, and all other means of distraction to clear out of the way so you can experience Him personally.

     So here's my point, which perhaps I just should have started with in order to save you my rant;  Knowledge is not faith.  Forced emotional breakdowns do not represent growth.  No one's inspired sermon, life story or personal transformation will grant you a closeness to God by having been present during its recitation.  Notches on your bible study notebook mean nothing.....IF you in any way believe that they get you closer to God.  You can not know Him more by reading, even if you're reading in order to recognize Him.  And really, if you think about it, does that make sense to you now that you've read it here?   If you believe you were created by Him for a personal and utterly unique relationship between the two of you, how is it that we seem to labor under the delusion that outside means and introductions are necessary for our knowing Him?

     We find God by trusting Him.  There is no other way.  Action will always be the path to a relationship with a god who asks you to seek after Him.

Deep breath out. That's how I know when I'm destressing. I learned it as a yoga technique....inhale through the nose, deep breath pushing it all out the mouth. It's involuntary anymore, and now it lets everyone know that what I am dealing with needs to be released, without my wanting anyone to know. "Why are you stressed?" he'll ask 'cause he's kind and genuinely concerned. I like him. I won't usually know what the stressor is at that particular minute...my body just knew what it needed and...deep breath out. Now, we're not talking just a sigh. That would be normal and not too noteworthy. We're talking about my mouth rounding into an 'O' and blowing the deep breath out...with sounds and all. I don't even know I'm doing it until it's done and at least one eye is attracted to the possible cry for attention. I suppose the problem with having involuntary actions cleansing my emotional system is that I can't often grasp at what I needed help releasing. Is that even a problem? Yes, (my psychology courses taunt me) for if I'm not aware of the root of my stress I will continue to ...deep breath out...until I hyperventilate and although momentarily the stress is gone, the stressor is not. So we dig. We dig up the unresolved issues of earlier days and blend them together with obvious 'today' responsibilities and somewhere in the middle of all of this we find the ugly little problem. Sometimes it's removable. Often it's painfully deep within the skin....deep breath out. And he talks to me. And he makes me talk, and he talks again and I love to listen and we'll pass through hours without my having to take any breaths at all. And morning will be breaking so we give in to our human need for sleep and I'll wait a bit until I hear his breathing. It's then that I see God and his hand stroking our hair, and Iremember to thank Him and assure Him that next time I'll remember to turn to Him for peace before the ugly little problem begins to fester.
But I don't...deep breath out.

What i don't have....

They say 'you should write what you know'. I guess that makes all of us an expert on something, doesn't it? Write what you know. I know what it's like to be content even happy without something but when reminded or assured I can't have it, I ache . I know that ache. I hate it. It eats at me and every month like clockwork, it mocks me. It redifines who I want to be and for a brief selfish moment makes me regret what I'm inevitably not. Logic has no part in this cruel drama for even when I remind myself how much better off I am and how free and perfect my situation already is, I feel the loss. Can you call something you didn't lose a loss? It feels like a loss. And to make it worse, much worse, despite those who are sensitive to your particular emotional ailment, there are those who are clueless and mean well but continually twist the knife in your side. They are not doing anything out of the ordinary, or going out of their way to try to comfort you or pity you; they are just living their lives. Living their lives with their sonograms and bronzed baby shoes and obligatory baby 'pics' that you are sentenced to smile at and comment on. Of course your baby is cute; who's isn't. Even if it isn't, it is. And to start hating a baby, that just crosses the line into monsterous. If one more well meaning mother's group sends me an e-mail to be their friend I'm going to scream. I'm a mother and to even complain about anything must make me a despicable hag. I'm not a mother of a child though; he's a teen. He doesn't require my life in the way an infant would and I should be grateful. I don't want to want this. I don't want to want this. Heaven forbid anyone should read this thinking I'm trying to convince myself of something. I'm aware of that reality which I think makes this reality so much more clear. I don't want to want this. Why is that so hard to believe? Is it because I cry almost every month. That could be it. I hate my tears; they're insincere. Who says your heart knows better than your head?... everyone who has ever had an affair or a divorce. My emotions are telling my mind that it is wrong. I do want this; but I don't want this. Sure, just fill your time with other things; hobbies, career, education. Fill your life so you feel no voids. Sorry. Listen to the wealthy and overworked if you think filling your time or your pocketbook will complete you. Are we doomed to ever feel incomplete? Will God Himself fill those missing pieces in? Are we genuinely missing a piece? If by filling that missing space, will the next void in the puzzle be unveiled? Does this life only offer contentment and satisfaction in the acceptances of our missing pieces?

So here I am, passing up the opportunity to once again sleep next to the most wonderful man in the world. I choose to sit here and try to figure out the complexities of the universe on a brightly lit laptop in a dark and smelly room. It's raining. I love the rain. Rain is such an accutely simple representation of cleansing. It's dark, and late and cold and raining. It sounds melodic and calming and clean. I love the rain. If i walk outside I'll wake him. he'll worry and not get the sleep he needs. Not if I walk out the back door. I think I will. I'm not dressed. Pajamas would attract attention wouldn't they? Just on the porch maybe or I'll just sit here by the window and with the cats, enjoy the cool of the evening. It's such a beautiful evening, morning I should say. It's so late, it's early. My favorite time of night. My favorite time to write.

Urgency of Time

Always the urgency of time. Time ticking, and slipping away. Is it the importance of each moment in it’s self or is it the premature amount of moments that are left? Always urgency.

Don’t wait to write it.

But writing it will take even more time and how can I make money during that time if I’m pausing my life to write it.

Just sit and write it. It will take time and it needs to be done. You need to do it now.

It’s me I think. I don’t like to wait to do anything that I want to do. I do- now. I think it’s me. Why does God get all the blame when I feel like moving irrationally in His name. How often is it really Him? Well, it can be justified, if I write little things that glorify Him and sell them in the meantime, I can generate money to afford to write what He really wants me to write. Wow. It seems so stupid on paper. If God says now, and I say soon, I must know better. I assume He doesn’t take into consideration my 3 second attention span and only my enemy knows how to trip me up. That must be it. Satan is loving that I’m writing this stupid blog of ranting instead of the book. How important I must think I am to acknowledge that he even knows my name. What difference does a girl make for a god in this world? What difference will He make? So often m…you’re freakin’ kidding me!! I couldn’t even finish the stupid sentence without leaving my seat to do something else! How the hell am I supposed to write a book? Short stories, poems, random blog postings…these I can do…with difficulty no less. But a book? And that’s another thing. I curse. I don’t like it and I shouldn’t do it but it’s there in my mind as causally as please and thank you. Hell, damn….yeah, I know, that’s not cursing to most people, but to many it’s unthinkable and unacceptable. One more reason to put it off. I should spend more time in the Word, I should legitimize devotions in my life, fasting might help, prayer. Always in prayer, so I don’t forget to pray. How often has this project been stalled for my self-doubt so I should go pray to make sure when I heard Him, I heard Him. How He must shake His head in frustration at me. Smiling, shaking his head in frustration. Looking at a 5 yr. old trying to put together a 2,000 piece puzzle. That must be how He feels. But still, pushing me from behind. The only obstacle….money. Always money. How faithless I am. How afraid I’ve become.