Tag Archives: gray area

Nov11

What Do We Call This

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The older I get, the more in control I like to be. Suddenly things like “planning ahead” and “knowing what to expect” are important to me, and to my sense of well-being. This strikes me as odd. I thought that responsibility came with family and possessions and, since I have neither, I would somehow get to live to avoid it. That line of thinking seems to be untrue.

In order to deal with the stress in my life, in my money, I took on a second job. It’s becoming clear to me, the longer that I’m employed there, that working a night shift in a gas station, in an impoverished town filled with addicts is likely not a safe place for me to spend a lot of time, to build relationships; it kind of feels like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

There was a time, and it doesn’t feel too long ago, when I would simply quit this second job. If I hated it, I would quit it, no questions asked. There was an even more recent time when I would do the more responsible thing, and give notice. If I didn’t feel unquestionably safe to stay sober, then I had to politely protect myself by moving on.

I’ve convinced myself that I cannot quit this job. I have got to make sure that I am taken care of through the winter. I have got to be able to pay off my debt. I have to keep this job just in case I really do lose my other job.

I’ve agreed to some weekend and evening side projects for my landlord in order to earn even more cash on the side. This offer was made to me before my primary job came under fire, it was made when I was first beginning to realize that it might not be wise to work at the gas station. If I combine my faith with my logic, it seems pretty clear that this third offering was likely put in place by God; God who heard the fear of my heart and, with a nod, opened a different door to achieving these new money needs.

I’ve somehow convinced myself, now, that I need all three jobs. Side jobs aren’t predictable, they aren’t steady. I’ve got to keep all my jobs and, if I do end up making a bunch of extra money, I can pay my way out of debt sooner. Besides, what if I lose my primary job?

And that’s where I lose control and the anxiety starts. There’s nothing I can do to affect whether I keep or lose that job. What if I quit one of my jobs, get fired from another, and am living on just the side jobs, then what would I do? I don’t want to become one of the nations unemployed. What would people say?

Is this what getting “older and more responsible” looks like? Does responsible have to start outweighing the avoidance of temptation at some point? Or, is this what self-sabotaging looks like?

And how does everything always come back to ‘what will people say’?

Dec8

Screwtape’s Influence

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Screwtape’s Influence

I feel like my life reads back to me like an extra chapter of the Screwtape Letters sometimes.

It all starts with me feeling grateful for being called to walk the “hard line”, for basking in revelations of grace over legalism and love over fear. I am strong and sure in my identity, in my love for my Savior and my hope for the future.

Then, secret thoughts (disguised as truth) begin to grow, unbeknownst to me, planted there by a foreign enemy too clever to overlook.  And, suddenly, I am not so sure anymore; the lines that used to be starkly drawn begin to blur, but I’m not yet aware of its happening.

With just enough truth, any line of thought can begin to confuse, until, eventually, I become aware that there’s a war in my mind and begin to participate.  Except, what now is truth and what is born of revelation, and what has been planted and growing without my permission?  Which line of thought is it, then, that I am arguing?

I cannot think. 

If I loved Him, I would obey Him.  He has given us a spirit of self-discipline, powered by His own Spirit.  I cannot love Him without Him giving me the power to do so.  I should try harder.  It shouldn’t be such work.  I cannot sacrifice without desire.  I can’t have desire unless He gives it to me.  I’m not doing enough.  I cannot handle anymore.  I can’t be who He wants to me to be, I don’t want to be anyone but.

I cannot focus. 

Condemnation has been my lifelong companion, shame it’s bosom friend.  I am harder on myself than anyone could be on me.  I create disappointment in faces where it never existed.  In such a fertile ground for harsh personal judgment, who is to know the difference between conviction and condemnation?  Guilt is guilt, it’s not prettier in one shade over another.

I cannot tolerate this.

I am not angry, I am exhausted.   I am not faithless, I am afraid.   I am not turning my back, I am losing grip.   Where will I fall to?   Maybe falling is the whole point?

Dec5

Life Outside The Box (let there be cake!)

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Life Outside The Box (let there be cake!)

  This Christian walk stuff is not easy. Granted, that’s not the most original thought I’ve ever had, I don’t think there’s a whole lot of people who assume that Christianity is easy, but sometimes it strikes me just how difficult of a path this can be. I’m not even talking about the do and don’t lists. In fact, the commandments can be the easy part. If I’m on a strict diet, I don’t eat cake, pretty simple. But if I’m just “watching what I eat”, if it’s a “lifestyle”, do I eat cake? If so, how much? It’s the Christian life compromised that’s impossibly difficult and, as my dieter friends can relate to, once you take that first bite of cake it’s just a little bit harder not to have french fries the next time.

But, really, “Christian life compromised” isn’t the right term, although, when one isn’t careful it does seem to be the end result. I guess what I mean to say is, it’s relatively easy to be a Christian and to walk roads soundly investigated, approved and maintained by the traditional church. It isn’t difficult to live life uncompromised on Sunday morning or at a gathering of like minded friends and family. It isn’t hard to stand your ground when no one is challenging you, or tempting you. On a diet, following a regimented menu laid out for you by a more studied individual isn’t very tough, in the short term. It’s when you decide to rework your very lifestyle to embody health and fitness in a way that’s real and lasting for you that challenges come.

Legalism can be easier to live in than grace. I think it’s why we’re drawn there. We just feel better when someone is telling us what to do, like if we follow all the rules, we know we’re getting it right. Religion based in fear. Pharisees.

I live a lot of my life outside what the church considers comfortable confines. The local pub (a community gathering spot), the homes of non-christian friends, music festivals; many of the places where I most feel at home, and the most free to be myself, are outside of the traditional black and white territory of the church. It can be hard, sometimes, to overcome mindsets taught to me as a child by strict Christian parents, even in myself. I find myself arguing the propriety of my choices, comparing them to those of my other Christian friends, and wondering if I’ve completely lost my way and the Holy Spirit forgot to tell me. Should the topic come up, of my friendships and hangouts, I find myself justifying my beliefs to an inquisitive, concerned or sometimes accusing church family member. Mostly, though, I just sort of keep quiet about it, worried I’ll be thought of as less of a Christian, that, in their concern for me and out of homage to the tradition of rules and clearly defined right and wrong, I’ll be ousted from ministry and deemed among the lost.

Don’t get me wrong, I have lots of friends who are Christians, and I love them and time with them, too. I just haven’t limited myself to only that and only there. There’s a lot of reasons and, to be honest, evangelism wasn’t originally one of them. But, as I’ve prayed through these struggles, what seems clear to me is this: Jesus hung out with some pretty shady characters, and He wasn’t preaching or handing out tracts or condemning choices and lifestyles, sometimes he was just eating dinner. I think repentance is born of relationship. I think it’s unwise to overlook the importance of being an “out-Christian” in a secular world, a position that requires us to actually step foot into the secular world. I believe that I’m laying a foundation for some of the people I meet and interact with, that I’m planting a seed that will one day be harvested.

But sometimes, I wish I didn’t feel so alone while I was doing it. I wish that I could go to my church and share the particular difficulties that come from living for Christ while in relationship with a world who isn’t. We all sin and all sins are equal in God’s eyes but, truth be told, they’re not in the eyes of the church; and in an environment so readily given to judgment, it isn’t easy, or even wise, to share the struggles unique to a life outside of the box.

Which brings me back to my original point. This stuff isn’t easy. There’s a whole lot to figure out, a whole lot of two steps forward and one step back. There is, at the end of the day, a whole lot of growth.

And maybe that’s what makes it all worthwhile. Lonely, perhaps, a little lacking in the usable advice department, but worth it.