Never a Failure

Hey all! Sorry! Those of you who actually read my blog on a regular basis might have noticed that I am officially a week late. I completely forgot to blog last week, and for that I must apologize.

Anyway….

I have to admit at times I feel like a failure. A completely and utterly pathetic excuse for a Christian. Usually this happens right after I fall into sin. It’s almost like an instinct. I screw up and then promptly start beating myself up for it. More than once, I’ve wondered about the marketability of inventing a self-kicking butt.

Being vulnerable to depression doesn’t help my problem, I bet. The fact remains. I’m good at screwing up and making sure I remember what I did. However, I have to fight against doing something even worse than beating myself up. I fight to keep my self-condemnation from becoming a part of my identity.

It’s an easy trap for me to fall into. After making the same mistake a few times, I start to believe that what I do defines who I am. If I make the same mistake and fall into the same sin over and over again, then I start to think that behavior is a part of me, a part of who I am. And since it’s wrong, I think that I’m a “failure”. That I’ll never become any better and that I’m doomed always to fail.

I’m so familiar with this fault, this trap, that it’s almost a habit. I give in to the lie so easily. I’ve heard it enough times that it starts to sound like truth.

Often, it takes hearing the real truth from a close friend to break me out of these “funks”, these attitudes. I can’t hear the truth from myself, so God has to bring in someone else to remind me of what is real. Thank God for friends, huh? 

The truth is, I am not a failure. I am God’s son (note the little s!). God is working in me. He wants me to be more like his Son (big S) and I know that He is not finished with me. Not by a long shot.  Even better, He won’t ever give up on me! Never! Even though sometimes I really can’t understand why He still loves me, why he hasn’t left me in the dust where I belong, the truth remains that He loves me. I am His beloved son. 

And that will never change, no matter how many times I fail.

Holy is the Lord, and most worthy of praise.

Reaching out

Okay, it's official. I think God enjoys throwing curve-balls at me. Really, I think He does.

One example, the main one really, is something happening right now. There's a guy here on camp who's rather lonely, or at least acts like it. My dad has mentioned it to me, and I have noticed his loneliness too. It comes out in the way he holds himself, the nervousness...a lot of things. So I have started, prayerfully, to reach out to the guy.


This isn't easy for me. I'm terrible at reaching out to others. Extending my hand in friendship has not worked out for me very often. Often that "hand" is ignored, pushed aside, or occasionally spit upon. A few times, I've had it wrenched and twisted behind my back.

Most of my good friends reached out their hand to me first  and I accepted it, gladly.

So maybe I'm making a mountain of a molehill (though moles are bad enough in and of themselves), but I feel extremely nervous about trying to be a friend to someone, someone who, according to my dad, is a lot like me. I'm not sure how accurate he is with his appraisal but we'll see.

I know loneliness can hurt. College will teach this quicker than anything else. I even told my friends once, "Loneliness is rarely nice enough to simply hit; more often, it full-on body-slams you into the ground."

And, since I know how painful loneliness can be, I want to reach out to help. I am weird that way I guess; I hate seeing others dealing with a similar pain, one that I know well.

Friendship is really important. I know that these days. I used to suffer under the illusion that I could live without friends, that I would be a happy hermit, content to be friendless. God and college-life conspired to rip that illusion away quite nicely, giving me a warm blanket to cover myself, instead of the rags I used to cling to.

Now it's my turn to extend a portion of the blanket; it's my turn to reach out and give someone the hand of friendship. It does have me scared. But I know that I can trust God to give me the tools and strength I need to do His will. I just need to follow the example He gave me, reaching out His hands that I might live.But prayers for guidance are always appreciated.

To God be the glory and praise, for He alone is holy and worthy of it.

Freedom

Let Freedom Ring. No Taxation Without Representation. These and more were the rallying cries of our nation almost 250 years ago. Today, Independence Day, marks the beginning of the American fight to overcome British tyranny. Before then, William Wallace, known from the movie Braveheart as the Scottish man who lived and died to make his people free, is known to have fought long and hard for freedom.

Fitting, then, that today I come to write and celebrate my own freedom, though mine is freedom of a different kind. Yes, I am likely going to preach and become personal. So those who enjoyed the breather I gave last week will now have to deal with my return to the satus quo. Oh well.

Today, while reflecting on Independence Day and all it entails, I realized that I have found a new freedom, one I have desired for a long, long time. And let me tell you, freedom, once found and realized by one who was once a slave, is delicious.

No, I am not talking about Freedom In Christ and the general stuff that goes with it that pastors preach about all the time. I am talking about genuine, honest-to-goodness, freedom from my own form of slavery.

I have been a slve to anger. Anger and hatred. And though you may notice that I rail against them and speak so often about not giving in to them, it's because I know what it's like to be a slave to them. Rather like the Talking Horse Bree from The Horse and His Boy (Chronicles of Narnia),I know what those masters are like, and I want to be free of them. Well, today I found out undeniably that in one area of my life Sinful Anger and Hatred have lost their grip on me. (There is such a thing as Righteous Anger, but one is never a slave to that.)

A long time ago, a person very close to me hurt me in ways that are extremely hard to describe. I felt betrayed and anger grew in my like a flame over the years, consuming me. it demanded so much of me. I felt drained, alone, and, at times, helpless against it. Over the last year, I have sought help to deal with my anger. Oh, how my friends helped me. I think sometimes that I would npt still be here if it hadn't been for the wonderful people God put in my life. With their help, I found freedom. I forgave the person for their wrongs against me.

But it still hurt to think about them for a long time. Again, friends became extremely important to me. I cannot stress how important good friendships are. Even if you can find only one good friend, someone you can trust implicitly, you have an invaluable resource, something important that must be guarded and cherished.

Sorry, went off on a tangent. Anyway. Recently I met that person again. And now I realize that absolutely no hatred or anger remains. I am finally free!

I feel like dancing and hollering. Maybe Gollum had the right idea after the second personality left in The Two Towers: "Free! Free! Smeagol is free!" he shouted, dancing around the modest camp the Hobbits had set up.

Now, am I totally free? No, unfortunately not. I know myself and I know that Anger has more strongholds in my life. And I have actually wept at times because I feel trapped. But today, there is hope. I can find freedom. I already have, even.

And none of this would be possible without Christ. I know I call it a Christian Blog, but that's because Jesus is a huge part of my life. And I know He wants to be an even bigger part of it. Without Him, I would never have known the healing I know today. Without Him, I would have no true friends to call my own. Without Him, I would still be hopeless. A wandering idiot still searching for meaning.

As the song goes, "It's all because of Jesus I'm alive,"... in more ways than one.

Holy is He and worthy of praise.