In some ways we, as Believers, are much weaker than our counterpart non-believers that walk through life with little to no care in the world. There is a lot of Christian rhetoric that will tell you otherwise, but I know it because I’ve felt it. Secular individuals believe that they neither need nor have a religious crutch which they will cling to. Whether they consider their “end of days” and the implications of not believing in something or not, they decide that Jesus Christ is a waste of time and a serious hindrance to living a fun and ceaselessly entertaining lifestyle. They may experience little earthly consequence because of affluence of the Western culture and the obvious superfluity of a God in a culture where we have everything we need. In many ways, I see how this view proliferates. We can relate to the doubt, the intrigue and the attraction of living in the moment. Oft considered, we can imagine how fun and easy it would be to drop the weighty responsibilities of following a religious creed on earth and seek the most sensual desires of our heart. At this very moment, at the moment of forming this wild and unbridled thought, something holds me back.
What is this weakness that I feel and the overwhelming sense of inability to pursue my most worldly thoughts? If I can imagine this so vividly and feel the self-confidence surging through my veins, what can possibly stop me?
Dependence is the thing that stops me. What a dirty sounding word to me. As I begin to formulate an independent and primal urge, I’m struck by an immovable experience of unyielding obligation. This obligation doesn’t feel like an obligation to change my oil or spend time with my overly precocious cousins at seasonal holidays. This obligation has no frame of reference in my life because I’ve only felt it in the context of my faith. In this moment I am weak. I am the anti-hero. I have no power to save the day. I fear death. I fear my own fragility. I doubt myself. My true nature is exposed and I am ashamed. Even my favorite tools like the power of positive thinking and my parent’s nurturing empowerment are impotent forces.
This is the moment that I see how weak I am compared to those around me who can dismiss this obligation of reliance. You think you know what’s coming, “He’s going to say that he feels God’s peace wash over and a warm buzz of good feelings dissipate the shame.” Actually, I feel none of that. As I see the world laughing at my weakness and fragility, I don’t feel better about myself at all. It is not a matter of my emotion, but of my soul. A spark inside my soul is ignited, a flicker of faith…that I have been redeemed by some power that I desperately need. In spite of the way I feel, my soul, my very essence, KNOWS that my pathetic weakness is my eternal strength.
-Luke (I love you guys, hope everyone has a great summer and keep posting on here!)
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