what if God were real?

who is God?

i gave my life over to Him 12 years ago. i rededicated my life to Him several times since then. i was baptised two summers ago by a man who represents Jesus better than anyone i've ever met.

now i'm 21 years old, and i'm just now asking the question.

who is God?

i'm tired of God as the creator of the universe. i'm tired of God as the giver of rules and regulations. i'm tired of God as my provider. in other words, i'm tired of knowing God as an entity that could fit into a UPS-sized box.

i want something bigger. something real.

if God created the universe, living in it should allow me to feel pretty close to Him, shouldn't it? is He truly everywhere, always among us, and we're just not opening our eyes to the wonder and beauty and glory and holiness of His presence? if so, why are pastors always saying things like "in the middle of it all, God showed up"? God showed up? in the middle of it all, God's either in the middle of it all, or He isn't. which one is it?

if God is the giver of rules and regulations, and He is just and truth and perfect, then these rules and regulations should only bring peace and order to life. i think they do. i think that by following them, we are truly experiencing the best life possible. but why are they so hard to follow? why, as humans, do we fall short as often as we do? why are we so susceptible to temptation, so carnal, so fickle? i'm all for humility, but sometimes it seems like God's expectations are a little high, and i'll just...never...get there.

if God is my provider, what is it that He's supposed to be providing? are we talking the basics - food, clothing, shelter? or does He also provide the metaphysical - peace, wisdom, joy? i recently watched Evan Almighty, and while it was certainly a comedy, the part that stood out for me the most was actually of a more serious nature. Morgan Freeman, who plays God, shares a nugget of revelation with Joan (Evan's, or Noah's, wife). he points out that when people (such as herself) ask God for something like bringing one's family closer together...God doesn't actually bring them closer together but instead gives them opportunities to grow closer together. likewise, if i ask God for wisdom, he will not grant me wisdom but instead the opportunity to make wise decisions. he does not give me courage, but the opportunity to be courageous. he does not give me peace, but the opportunity to have a peaceful attitude. in my case, i have asked for all of these things, but also i've asked God to stretch me and help me grow. well, now i understand. it's not like he snaps his fingers and shazzam! i'm suddenly this brave, open-minded, adventurous, interesting person. no, he's taking his time, giving me opportunities to stretch myself and grow.

it's up to me to take them. grab them. claim them. make them mine. give myself a little credit. yes, it's God, but we choose. he doesn't force us to choose one thing over another.

free will.

free to be unwilling.

of course, this is all hypothetical. this is if Steve Oedekerk has a clear understanding of who God is and God does, in fact, work this way. but how would Steve Oedekerk know?

how does anyone know?

how does anyone know who God is? we can only each have our own personal understanding, right? we can only understand him according to our own interpretations of the Bible.

i just finished a book the other week that my friend Greg recommended to me a while back. it's called "Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith," and it's written by Rob Bell, 30-something-year-old pastor of Mars Hill church.

it was amazing. i can't even find words worthy of description. but at the time of its completion, it had certainly cleared up some things for me, and confirmed the struggles and discoveries i've been having regarding Christianity and the Bible.

above all else, i am in pursuit of truth.

God is truth.

therefore, all things true belong to God.

ideas and teaching from other religions can be of God.

and there is nothing new under the sun. there are only discoveries. no one invented electricity or immunizations - these things already existed and were only over time discovered.

i want to discover.

i want to live my life in pursuit of discovery.

the discovery of truth.

not what other people believe to be true.

but truth. cold, hard facts that cannot be denied.

everything else is subject for discussion, debate, opposition, study. it's irrelevant and very relevant, meaningless and entirely worthwhile.

because God has spoken, and the rest is just commentary...right?

in the last bunch of months of my existence, i've seen life become so huge that i wanted to kill myself due to its sheer size and the fact that i simply cannot handle it. i've also seen it shrink down to the size of something called death.

it could all be over in a second.

all the questions, the worries, the pain, the frustration, the neverending feelings of hopelessness, loneliness, worthlessness and meaninglessness, could all be over in the blink of an eye.

time, in the end, is nothing. material things are nothing. everything else, apparently, is supposed to keep us going, the things that matter, things like love and friendship and purpose.

when you can't find these things, where does that leave you? what is the point? what is the point of mankind, or even God for that matter?

who is God?

i can't settle for the cliche Christ anymore. i want to see God explode. i want his guts to fall and seep into everything i see and hear and say and do. if he's bigger than life and created the universe, then he's certainly bigger than a little book with a bunch of poems and proverbs slapped in the middle.

words cannot capture him.

deeds cannot sustain him.

rules cannot magnify him.

saints cannot even begin to adequately portray him.

God is not out there, somewhere; i am fully convinced that he's right here in the midst of everything, and i will climb and crawl and grope my way through the dark until i find him. and when i find him, i will fight him. i will wrestle with him as long as humanly possible, even if it costs me. i would rather limp around for the rest of my life as a reminder of what i went through to finally squeeze my fist around God than to never truly know who he is.

yesterday morning

by matt wertz.

Yesterday morning every part of her just shut down.
Getting out of bed never felt so difficult before.
Every step she took led to the wrong direction
and she never made it out her door

Yesterday morning Jamie yielded to all she hates.
But if she despises it so much, why did she give in?
Seems like this battle just can’t be won
and she’s stuck there alone again.

She said I’m so sick of this stumble, stumble that I’ve been calling a walk
and I’m so tired of the mumble, mumble that I’ve described as talk.
And now I guess it's time I lose myself
to the One who found me here, who found me here.

Yesterday morning every part of her just shut down.
And all that she knew or thought she knew flew out the door.
Things she loved so easily forgotten.
Now Jamie can’t love no more.

She said I’m so sick of this stumble, stumble that I’ve been calling a walk
and I’m so tired of the mumble, mumble that I’ve described as a talk.
And now I guess it's time I lose myself
to the One who found me here
Found me here, found me, found me here

two points for honesty

if all of this were a novel, i'd be holding a lantern. perhaps i'd be wearing a cloak, too. everyone knows that when it's cold, dark and raining, the character in question must be holding a lantern and wearing a cloak.

but i am not so fortunate.

and this is not a novel.

this is real. this is truth. and it is dripping with loneliness.

always there is light, and through the blur i do see it. but there is that blur, always the damn blur. and the window is tightly sealed, which makes sense, except that it doesn't.

not at this house.

i've been banging and banging on the door, but somewhere the scriptures are falling short. hours, days, weeks, even months have passed and the door hasn't budged. not even a crack.

the house is full, i know it. i can see the shapes and figures moving around inside, enjoying their tea and their fire and petting their dogs and i can even hear their laughter sometimes. on occasion, they are unhappy.

but at least they are inside the house.

always on the outside looking in. always desperate for contact. always empty and always alone and now scared. but hurt more than anything.

i've been abandoned.

i hate to think this way; i hate to think it's possible. but i certainly never walked away. i've been right here the whole time. so how did i get to be so completely lost?

so many questions without answers. is this all just a cruel joke? if so, i'm still waiting for the punch line. and i'm feeling more and more like a rat in a cage, left to find the escape on my own while forced to face trials and brick walls along the way.

because that's the only thing that makes sense.

except that it doesn't.

the way i see it #283

The most important thing in life is to stop saying "I wish" and start saying "I will." Consider nothing impossible, then treat possibilities as probabilities. - David Copperfield

what if you held the world in your arms?

she stands at the edge of the tracks, her chest aflutter with the thought:

what if.

rusted and warped, the tracks are nearly choked by the weeds that have taken up residence over time. they are lonely in this place. as the tall grass whispers its secrets to the choir of crickets nestled in its fortress, the tracks groan quietly and the earth listens.

there is a train coming. its light cannot yet be seen, but the earth knows, and now the tracks. they can feel the rumble. there is life after all.

she breathes in sharply and glances up at the lightning bugs in the forest. they twinkle like stars in the darkness and for a moment, she imagines their excited chatter. imagines? surely anything is possible tonight. a train is coming.

possibility enshrouds the night like a fog. what if she were to accept? what if her heart were to give in? what if she allowed herself to hope?

feeling a slight tremor beneath her feet, she blinks slowly and turns her head in the direction of its source.

what if.

is it any wonder?

I, I always thought that I knew
I'd always have the right to
Be living in the kingdom of the good and true
And so on, but now I think I was wrong
And you were laughing along
And now I look a fool for thinking you were on, my side

Is it any wonder I'm tired?
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight?
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right?

Sometimes
It's hard to know where I stand
It's hard to know where I am
Well maybe it's a puzzle I don't understand
But sometimes
I get the feeling that I'm
Stranded in the wrong time
Where love is just a lyric in a children's rhyme, a sound bite

Is it any wonder that I'm tired?
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight?
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right?
Oh, these days, after all the misery made
Is it any wonder that I feel afraid?
Is it any wonder that I feel betrayed?

Nothing left beside this old cathedral
Just the sad lonely spires
How do you make it right

Oh, but you try
Is it any wonder I'm tired?
Is it any wonder that I feel uptight?
Is it any wonder I don't know what's right?
Oh, these days, after all the misery made
Is it any wonder that I feel afraid?
Is it any wonder that I feel betrayed?

- Keane

everything is black and white, even if it's written in blue ink

she doesn't have all the time in the world to find the line, but she will find it. she's getting closer. i think she's almost there. and when she finds it, she will grab the nearest stick and gauge the deepest cleft that her strength will allow, and if anyone tries to cross it they will stumble into the trench and be washed away by the ocean's waves. her emotions will become its fury, and it will fight for her.

if she has doubts, she will look for the lighthouse. and if she gets scared, she will run towards it as fast as she possibly can.

i never said that i was brave

the storm clouds in her eyes linger and i am afraid that soon they will remain permanent. she is lost out there, caught between what is real and just a dream. i can see that it is getting more and more difficult with each passing day to distinguish the two, or even remember which of them she is currently living in. i guess that would explain the numbness. the denial. the apathy. defense mechanisms clearly formed for survival.

claustrophobia sets its claws in with a death grip, choking her by the neck. she will save the bruises as a reminder, lest she forget. i can't say that i blame her. it's her own fault anyway; she chose this. now she must live with it.

wait...i don't really mean that. please forgive me. i'm starting to numb myself as well because the pain is too much. i can't just stand around and watch her waste away. and yet, there's nothing i can do. it is her choice, after all. but it isn't right. it isn't fair. she's just a girl.

"wait here for me," she said, with a smile reserved for funerals.