What If I was Wrong

I've had this thought circling my head for the last few days. "Do not attempt faith if you don't want to look or feel stupid." I'm beginning to feel a little stupid now for having faith that things will somehow work out, even though every sign points to 'are you serious?' It's not like I'm whining, but I'm sure that's probably what I'm doing, but for my own sake, let's just say I'm expressing myself.

I try to think about stories in the Old Testament where people were told to do some crazy stuff in the hopes that they will lessen my feeling stupid and illogical...it usually works temporarily and then reality sort of hits and I'm thinking what the hell are you thinking.

Neil Hughes from the documentary series said, I believe in 28Up, that the reason he loved the Old Testament was because God was so unpredictable. And I guess that's probably why I love it. There's no form to His madness or working. He doesn't explain Himself...He just does things. Period. It's how I feel with my life.

On my way to work today, I wanted to ask God to give me a break, but then I thought, how dare I ask for a break when there are people suffering worse than I am. All I'm asking is that my permanent residency would be completed,which seems trivial considering most of these wandering souls just want to sleep at night knowing that they won't have hear bullets flying through the air. Or worry that they will be raped by unhuman-like militia. And I'm asking for a break for what? Get real.

Everything right now seems wrong. I have this heavy ache in my heart that maybe things won't turn like I have been hoping. I have this pain in my heart that maybe I was wrong and I'll have to walk around in shame trying to explain what the hell I believed so strongly. Do I become angry at myself for having believed so strongly without much of a guarantee or at God for allowing me to come this far without warning me that I was misstaken and He hadn't said a word about what I was to do next.

This is what is so complicated about faith. I want things to work logically. I want things to happen that I can explain and people can understand. I'm uncomfortable with uncertainty. I'm not happy with walking and not knowing if the ground will be there when I take the next step. I dislike having to get up and go not really knowing where I'm going or what I'll find when I get there.

I'm really uncomfortable with having to walk in faith.

...

Someday when I grow up, I'd like to have my mother's faith. The last six years, to my knowledge, have been a miniture hell for my parents with circumstances ranging from betrayal from close friends to their losing thousands of dollars in their business which they were forced to close...and never recovered the money or merchandise. The only sign I've seen in both my parents concerning their troubles is their health...my dad has high blood pressure, and my mom stomach ulcers. In terms of their faith, I've never once heard them curse God or even throw tantrums like I'm prone to doing when life doesn't seem to be going my way. With all that's been going on with my life and trying to follow my dream, which keeps getting jolted back by realities that are too real to ignore, I've had my share of doubts and close calls to asking God 'what the hell are you doing?'

I just got off the phone with mom and once again, I'm just amazed at how positive and encouraging she's been...chaos still ensues in their lives, but their faith in God doesn't seem to waver. With two minutes left on my calling card, she broke out into a mini-sermon on hoping in God and just waiting on Him. There was a string of illustrations on why it's important to trust Him and continually pray, and in my head I'm thinking 'how does she have the faith to believe like this?'

After I hung-up the phone, I went to grab some tea and that's when it hit me. Just as much as that woman or child or man didn't do anything to deserve being born in Somalia or Sudan, neither did I do anything to deserve what I have...or to have come as far as I have. I thought how my life could be a whole lot worse with next to nothing in terms of food, shelter, clothing, peace...I mean the list is endless.

This week God has been reminding me that the way He does things is so far removed from my own finite ideas of how my life should run. I've realized how much pride I have in terms of demanding that God follow the picture in my head about the dreams I have. How can the thing created tell the Creator how things ought to run? Unfortunately in this individualistic culture, it's almost expected that life has to revolve around me, me, me.

I think the sooner I give up the idea that life will go my way, the better my life will be. But I'm stubborn and don't want to give up this illusion. My faith is definitely being tested, and I have to say that so far I'm not doing too well. I've succumbed to doubt and fear and rigorously interrogating God what He was thinking back in October when he spurred me onto a journey that at this point seems to be halting. But when I read stories like those of Joseph, I'm reminded, once again, that even those dreams that I believe God has given me will not turn like the picture in my head.

There are two things I've learned so far. First, life won't turn out like I want it to. Second, persisent prayer is necessary in this faith...granted, I don't fully understand how this works, but I know it has it's place. So for now, I think I'm supposed to be still. To let the one who spoke all of existence into being order the particulars of my life and dreams. To know that I need to stop looking in one direction expecting God to show up there, but to know that as large as the heavens are, so are His ways in 'showing up'. That my plans for life are just about me, and His plans for me are inclusive of people and places I have yet to meet and go. You'd think I'd be happy about that...but I'm not...because I don't have much control and I like to have to control.

So here I am...between control and trust...