Confessions of a Resident Alien

The Lost Art of Gifting

2010-01-30T09:01:00.000-08:00

First, let me point out that I realize that it's been over a year since my last post (and that one was a re-post of a previous post). But, in my defense, let me just say a few things... I have ADD. Ok, I haven't ever been diagnosed with it, but I'm easily distracted and move from one thing to the next. Also, this isn't the only blog I maintain. This is the blog for my ramblings about spirituality, I also have one for humor, one for cooking, and one for my artwork. So, I visit each from time-to-time. This one has been sadly neglected for too long. With that said...

The Lost Art of Giving

Christmas is now a little more than a month behind us. I avoided posting this back then, because I didn't want it to sound like another holiday rant. Christmas is what has gotten me to thinking about gifts, about giving them and receiving them, but it's not the ultimate point of this article. I noticed something that bugged me this Christmas, something I have noticed before but could never really put my finger on until now. We have lost the art of giving gifts. I came to this conclusion when I saw the inordinate amount of gift cards being bought and sold and given as gifts this Christmas. Now this might get me into a little bit of trouble saying this, because I've been given gift cards as presents before (and recently), and I certainly don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Because, honestly, I do like to get them and I do like using them. But there's something I like even more. In the old days, before gift cards (or even gift certificates), if you wanted to give someone a present, it took work. There is a certain effort you have to make in giving a good gift. You have to think about the receiver, what type of person are they, what type of things they enjoy, what kind of gift is likely to be well received. You have to go shopping. Giving a gift conveys a message, and when a gift is something that you've obviously put a lot of time and effort into, that message is something along the lines of "This is how much I care about you. This is how well I know you." Which brings us to...

The Lost Art of Receiving (or, The Lost Art of Gratitude)

Unfortunately, I think the lost art of gift giving is a direct result of the lost art of gift receiving. The other thing I noticed this holiday season was the return lines at various department stores. So many people that received a gift (that wasn't a gift card) were standing in line to return that thing they received that they just didn't want. And I just had to stop and think "why?" Someone goes to the effort to buy something for us, trying their best to convey a message of "I love you. I think highly of you. Here is a gift that I think you'll enjoy." and we smile and nod and say "Uh, thank you." and then go to the store the next day and exchange it for something we really want. I think that as a direct result of this attitude many people have just given up on trying to give good gifts. It's far easier to give a gift card and let the receiver decide what a good gift would be. It's a shame really.

"A culture of entitlement" is a term I've heard used, mostly by Republican pundits when describing people who are chronically on the welfare dole. Unfortunately, I think that term applies to a good many of us. It is that prevailing notion that we deserve better. Somehow the universe owes us all the good things in life. We think this way when we expect the government to care for us, even though we sit around and do nothing to earn it. But we also think this way when we have worked hard and moved up the corporate ladder. Just as the person who does nothing and expects to be rewarded is mistaken, we make a similar error if we think that because we have worked hard we somehow deserve blessings.

One of the things that I've come to realize while thinking about the lost art of gifting, is that all of life is a gift. All of life is a gift. I wake up in the morning and there is nothing that I can do to grant myself more life. Every breath I take, every heartbeat I experience, every talent and ability I possess, everything is a gift from God. And I have done absolutely nothing to deserve any of it. Even if I have worked hard for something, it was God who gave me the ability to work.

I have come to the conclusion that one of the biggest stumbling blocks to my faith has been my lack of gratitude. It's so easy to take things for granted - my family, my home, the fact that I'm vertical - because I deserve these things, don't I? This is the way things should be. But if I fail to see all of life as an undeserved gift from God, then when things go wrong my faith is shaken. When I'm laid off from my job, when a loved one dies unexpectedly, when I struggle with my finances, when my depression kicks in, when some guy cuts me off on the freeway, I begin to think in small and large ways that God must not be good, or that he just doesn't care for me. Conversely, if I make a point to acknowledge life as a gift, if I thank God with my words and actions for his gifts, and realize that blessings are temporal (to be enjoyed while they last), then when things don't go as expected my faith is secure.

It's a little late for New Year's resolutions, but I'm going to make one anyway. This year I resolve to be more grateful for the gifts God has given me, to acknowledge that all of life is a gift that I don't deserve, and to count my blessings as blessings and not something I'm entitled to. We'll see how it goes. I'm sure it's going to be harder to do than it is to say.

-Rez

I'm Dreaming of a Whine ChristmasorAn Open Letter to the Christian Community(A Holiday Rant)

2008-12-04T08:55:00.000-08:00

(bumped from 2006) ...because it still applies this year (sigh)...

My Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

The Christmas season is once again upon us. As time goes by it seems to approach faster and faster. Of course this could be due to the fact that retail stores are putting out their Christmas merchandise three weeks before Halloween. I predict that within ten years Christmas merchandise will be sold year-round at all major retail outlets (which, in my mind wouldn't be such a terrible thing). But that's beside the point.

This year there has been a lot of hulabaloo about certain retail chains eliminating the word Christmas from their in-store advertising. In response to this, I have heard a great outcry from the Christian community in the form of emails, online petitions, newspaper quotes, public calls for boycotts, etc. What I am about to say is going to put a lot of you off (including, I think, some of my relatives and close personal friends), but I hope you receive it in the spirit in which it is intended - that of Christian love. And if you find that difficult, I hope you can at least respond to it with Christian charity. What I want to say is this:

STOP IT! Just cut it out!

I have a few reasons for saying this:

These are secular retail stores that do business in a hedonistic, narcisistic and capitalistic society (and if you don't know what those words mean, look them up (I had to)). What they have done is simply make a marketing decision based on what they think will generate the most profits for their respective companies. I don't blame them. They're in the business of making money. It's what they do. I probably would have done the same thing in their shoes. When are we, as Christians, going to stop being surpised when the World acts like the World?

This is a minor point. Retail stores that are banning the word Christmas are substituting the word Holidays, which is a contraction of the words holy and days. At least they are acknowledging the fact that there is something holy about this Season.

You absolutely cannot take Christ out of Christmas, or Christmas out of the season. Christmas isn't about where you shop, or even about what presents you buy. It's about the Lord of all Creation descending down to Earth "to save a wretch like me". I'll be celebrating this fact with my family and friends this year, as I always do. We'll continue old traditions and maybe add a few new ones. We'll acknowledge and thank God for his presence in our lives. Whether the store down the street puts up a Merry Christmas sign or not doesn't affect my life or my Christmas in the slightest. If you think about it, it probably doesn't affect yours either.

Wouldn't it be nice if - instead of knee-jerk, angry responses - we all responded with a little more love and charity? What would happen, do you think, if instead of angrily marching up to a hapless retail clerk and loudly complaining about their lack of Christ-mas music or signage (minimum wage high school-aged employees don't really have much influence over corporate decisions, by the way), we cheerfully paid for our purchases and wished them a "Merry Christmas" and maybe throw in a "God bless you" for good measure? Or, if we turned to the person behind us in line at the mall food court and offered to buy them lunch, instead of yelling at them for pushing us? Christmas should be a time that reminds us of God's great love for humanity, of how we are supposed to live as followers of Christ. If we aren't doing that, it should be a time of "Help me to love others the way You love them, Lord." If we are doing that, it should be a time of "Thank you, Lord, that I can share with the world the love that You've demonstrated to me. Please help me to continue to do so by giving me more opportunities throughout the year." In light of Romans 12:20-21 which says, "On the contrary: 'If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.", perhaps a few "intentional acts of significant kindness" would be more effective than angry protests over a world that is only acting according to its nature. Jesus said we would be known by our love - not by our ability to petition, gripe, complain and generally stir the pot.

God Bless and Merry Christmas!

Rez...

What I'm Reading

2006-12-15T09:34:00.000-08:00

I'm reading a small book I got from the library the other day called "The Prayer God Longs For" by James Emery White. It's a pretty good read so far. I'm only about half-way through it - though it's only a little over a hundred pages - so I don't have a final verdict on it yet... However, something I read this morning really hit me, so I thought I'd share it... In the chapter called "Submitted" he likens the process of submitting our will to God's to the stages one goes through when facing a terminal illness - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - though he adds the final stage of "heaven". He points out that the stages aren't taken in order, and we visit these stages repeatedly. Anyway, what he said really struck me as truth. Looking back I can see myself in each of these stages. Lately I think I've been stuck somewhere between anger and depression - with brief moments of acceptance thrown in (which is good).

I've also been reading a book called "Why the Christian Right is Wrong" by Robin Meyers (which is why I'm only half-way through both books). Meyers is a minister and professor and a liberal. The book is pretty thought provoking. And while I'm a far cry from being liberal - the World's Smallest Political Quiz (http://www.self-gov.org/quiz.html) puts me in the middle of the "libertarian" camp (which sounds about right) - he does make some excellent points that I agree with. He does a good job of dispelling the idea that "Christian" and "conservative" are synonymous, and the idea that if you aren't a Republican you couldn't possibly be a Christian. I also understand his frustration with politicians (George W. in particular) who profess faith in the interest of political gain. I think where Meyer and I will ultimately part company will be in the area of the Church's involvement in politics (though not having read the entire book I can't yet confirm that). Frankly I think that the Church has very little business being a "political force". Jesus was very apolitical, going to great pains to let people know that his Father's Kingdom was not an earthly kingdom. And though I believe we ought to participate in the process of government, I don't believe it should be our primary focus. The revolutionary message of Jesus was an emphasis on loving God and loving our neighbor (and a new definition of who are neighbors actually are) - everything else we do should flow from that. Unfortunately, I think the Church has abandoned much of its mission to care for "widows and orphans" in part because the government is now in charge of those things. We have allowed ourselves to become lazy and comfortable. It's a shame.

- Rez

But WHY???

2006-05-03T19:11:00.000-07:00

"The trouble is that humans do have knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."
- Albus Dumbledore, from J.K. Rowling's, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

I was thinking a bit more about my previous post on God's annoying habit of refusing to answer our demanding questions of "Why?" (see "Because I Said So"), and I had an interesting thought. I was thinking, again, about when my own children question my decisions and it struck me that if they were demanding candy, and I insisted that they had to eat their veggies, and then they continued to whine and cry and demand that I tell them why, and I gave in and told them. "Well, you see dear, candy might taste good, but nutritionally it's crap. While veggies are chock full of vitaminy goodness that will help you grow." How satisfying would that answer be to them? All of it is true. It is exactly why I've made that decision. But to them it really doesn't matter. They wanted candy. I gave them vegetables. And if I blow all of this up to a much higher level (say, the scale at which God looks at all of our lives and all of time from beginning to end (in as much as I can imagine that large)), I stop and wonder if perhaps this is one of the reasons God doesn't answer us when we demand to know the reasons why he allowed this or that unpleasant circumstance in our lives, or allows us to continue to struggle with whatever issues we're struggling with. Maybe his answers would be highly unsatisfying to us, because we don't really want an answer to the "why" question. We want what we want when we want it, and all of our complaints really just boil down to our childish desires to have our own way. I know that sounds harsh, but I believe it to be true.

And then I happened to read that quote above from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (one of the most "Christian" books I've read in a long time, by the way), and I went, "Yes! That's so true!" Left to my own devices, 9 times out of 10 I will choose what makes me feel good for the moment over what is best. And 9 times out of ten I don't even know what is best for me, and am incapable of choosing the best thing. Sometimes life hurts. Sometimes it hurts unbearably badly. Sometimes God allows tragedy, struggles and pain into our lives and it frustrates us and makes us want to kick and scream. But I don't know the future. I don't have Eternity in the palm of my hand. I don't know what's around the next corner, nor do I know what's best for me.

I believe that God is good. I take him at his word when he says that he works all things out for the good of those that love him (see Romans 8:28). I take comfort in that. In knowing that although I don't know what's best for me, there is someone looking out for my best interests.

- Rez

Because I Said So!

2006-01-14T05:45:00.000-08:00

"Daddy, can I have a piece of candy?"

"No."

"But, why?"

"Because I said so!"

How many times have I heard myself use this as an answer to my questioning children? How many times have I seen other parents do the same? How many times did my parents say it to me? On reflection, I'm not so sure this is such a good response.

I was thinking the other morning about the answer "Because I said so!" and why I say it, and I was thinking about it in the context of parenthood being a reflection of our relationship with God. I was thinking about why I answer my children this way, and I came to the conclusion that more often than not it's because I'm tired and don't want to deal with their questions. But there is another part of me that doesn't like the fact that they're questioning me in the first place because I want them to trust me. I want them to love me, and realize that I want what's best for their lives. "Because I said so!" is said in anger because at some level I feel that they don't love me and trust my judgement. I wondered if God ever felt that way when I questioned him with "Why?".

I've been thinking a lot lately about motivation, why I do some of the things I do, why other people do some of the things they do, why we hold some of the traditions that we have. For a long time I was very anti-traditional. I have watched many people go through the motions of going to church, praying, doing all of the "right" things, and when asked why they do those things, the answer is highly unsatisfying... "We've always done it this way." or "It's just the way we do things." In other words, "Because I said so." But that answer is really a non-answer. If I'm going to devote my life to something, or to doing something in a particular way, I want a reason to do it. I'm looking for a purpose. I'm questioning "Why?"

I've gone off the idea of being completely anti-traditional. In fact, I now love many things that I once scorned, because God is patient with me and His answers to my questioning are patient and kind. He doesn't brush me off with a "Because I'm God, and I said so!" I see the reason behind a lot of what we do as Christians - communion, worship, prayer, fasting, meditation, etc. - is love for our Lord. He asks us to come to Him with that motive (and no other).

He also assures us of His love for us. When we question "Why?" in regards to troubling circumstances, He may not tell us all of the reasons for those circumstances. But neither does He give us the brush off. Frequently, I find that God's answer to my troubled and questioning heart is much like the answer that I am going to strive to give to my own children when they question me:

"Daddy, can I have a piece of candy?"

"No."

"But, why?"

"Because I'm your father, and I love you more than I can say. I know that candy is good, and that you love it, but it is not the best thing for you right now. I want what's best for you."

- Rez

The Gospel as I See It

2006-01-05T14:01:00.000-08:00

Having waded through the swamps of theology as much as I care to, I have come to the conclusion that the gospel of Jesus Christ boils down to two things:

1. Love God.
2. Love others.

Didn't Jesus say everything else falls under that? I don't understand why we've over-complicated things.

- Rez...

Entering the Total Perspective Vortex

2006-01-04T11:46:00.000-08:00

"...when you are put in the [Total Perspective] Vortex you are given just one momentary glimpse of the size of the entire unimaginable infinity of Creation along with a tiny little marker saying 'You are here'."
- Douglas Adams, The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy Radio Show,
Fit the Eighth

The late Douglas Adams is my favorite atheist. Though he wasn't a Christian, much of the humor, wit and insight that appear in his works have had a profound influence on my life. I first stumbled onto the works of Mr. Adams, quite by accident, when I was 12 years old. Our family had just moved to a new area, and I hadn't yet made many friends, so I spent a good deal of time in my room listening to the radio. While flipping the dial one day I happened to land on the local NPR station, and they happened to be playing an episode of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy radio program. It was one of the later episodes - the ninth of twelve if memory serves - and I had no idea what was going on, but somehow I got hooked. From that point on I was glued to the radio every evening that the show was aired. When the station re-broadcast the series from the beginning I got hold of some blank cassette tapes and recorded each episode. I listened to them over and over and over, and soon had the entire series committed to memory. My best friend at the time was from England, and when he went there on summer vacation he came back with a treasure for me - the book The Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy (which later became book one of the five book "trilogy") - not yet available to us poor Yanks. He also came to me with the news that in the UK they were currently airing the television version of Hitch-Hiker's (which I now have on VHS and have watched several times). When Douglas Adams died unexpectedly in 2001 I cried, which seems somewhat silly to me, as I am generally not given to "hero worship". I guess it just hit home how much this man's work had influenced my personality and sense of humor over the years.

I tell you all of that, in order to tell you this. In the eighth episode of the Hitch-Hiker's radio show, Zaphod Beeblebrox - one of the main characters - is placed into a torture device known as the Total Perspective Vortex. Interestingly enough, the Vortex wasn't originally designed as a torture device, it had been invented as a means to annoy the wife of the inventor:

"Trin Tragula, for that was his name, was a dreamer, a speculative thinker, or as his wife would have it, an idiot.

And she would nag him incessantly about the utterly inordinate amount of time he would spend staring into space, or mulling over the mechanics of safety pins, or doing spectographic analyses of pieces of fairy cake. 'Have some sense of proportion' she would say thirty eight times a day.

And so he built the Total Perspective Vortex, just to show her. And in one end he plugged the whole of reality... and in the other end he plugged his wife, so that when he turned it on she saw in one instant the whole infinity of creation and herself in relation to it.

To Trin Tragula's horror, the shock annihilated her brain, but to his satisfaction he realized that he had conclusively proved that if life is going to exist in a Universe this size the one thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion."¹

I have found in my life that there are times when I begin to believe that God cannot be trusted to handle the things in my life, and I start to lose faith, I lose trust and I lose hope. Worse, I begin to look for other ways of having my perceived "needs" met. It's in times like these that we begin to chase after what I call "small gods", which is to say anything we use in order to have some sense of control over our lives. Extreme examples of this would be addictions - alcoholism, drug abuse, pornography, eating disorders, etc. - but it can take on less obvious forms. Overworking, shopping, excessive television watching, trying to "do it all", even church ministries can be a thing we worship in place of God. And this is where Douglas Adams and I diverge in philosophy, because I believe that it's at this point when a sense of proportion is exactly what is needed.

"How small is your God?" is a question I frequently ask myself. In other words, "Who or what are you trusting?". In his book Finding God, Larry Crabb asserts that sin is founded on the lie that God is either a.) not good, or b.) not good enough. Too often when I am having a crisis and can see no way out of it, I decide that the latter is true, and busily try to arrange for my own comfort. It is at these times when I most need to take a trip into the Total Perspective Vortex. What I need to realize is that God is not primarily concerned with my comfort, though He is deeply concerned with what is best for me. And that's a tough thing to accept, because for most of us, feeling good is what life should be all about. But God doesn't operate on my agenda, nor should He. If He did, He wouldn't be much of a God, and not worthy of worship. We cannot reduce God down to the size of a genie in a bottle who grants our every wish. Nor can we expect Him to operate like a vending machine, plop in the right "coins" and receive the blessings we want. Faith and trust come in when we believe what God has told us - that He is good, that He will never leave nor forsake us, that His plans for us are ultimately good, etc. - whether we're experiencing it in our lives at the moment or not.

I am often amazed at the little fictions we create in order to fool ourselves into thinking that we're actually in control of our lives. A trip into the Total Perspective Vortex cures me of this. It wipes away all illusions and pretense and reality hits me square in the chest. Sometimes it is good to be small and to realize how small I really am. When this happens we have two options. We can, like Trin Tragula's wife, go insane (or commit suicide) or, like Job, we can allow the reality of who God is draw us to repentance and into His presence. If we choose the latter we will find that God is full of mercy and grace, and His presence is enough to sustain us.

Many times God places us in the Vortex without our wanting to go, but we can also choose to enter it on our own. We can gaze at the stars on a clear night; watch the lightning, hear the thunder and feel the rain on our faces during a storm; visit the natural wonders of the world and spend time close to Creation while contemplating the Creator; examine the intricacies of a leaf or an insect under a microscope. I find that when I take time to realize that the Creator of it all is in love with me and ultimately has my best interest at heart it becomes much easier to cope with the struggles of life. From our perspective life can be daunting, but when we enter the Total Perspective Vortex we can see not only the "whole of creation and ourselves in relation to it", but we will see the Creator and ourselves in relation to Him.

When we gain a sense of perspective, rather than annihilating our brains, it gives us hope.

- Rez

^{1 Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy Radio Program, Fit the Eighth}

Strangely Normal

2005-12-12T22:10:00.000-08:00

"When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange"
- The Doors, People Are Strange

I'm very fond of saying, "Strange is a relative term. If you don't believe me, take a look at your relatives." I'm not sure where I first heard that one. It's quite possible I made it up, but since I don't know for sure I won't take credit for it. When I say it, I say it with tongue firmly planted in cheek, but there is a bit of truth in it.

I'm a strange person. I know this, because I've been told by many people that it's so. Sometimes that hurts, other times I'm rather proud of my own unique quirkiness. There can be a sense of pride in being odd. When I was growing up I was a rather small kid. In politically correct terms I was a "late bloomer". In layman's terms that means nerd or geek. Compound this with the fact that I was quiet and shy and then compound that with the fact that I was into computers, roleplaying games, science fiction and fantasy stories, comic books and Japanese animation, and you will get an idea of why I was told that I was "strange". My general response to people who pointed out this fact was something along the lines of "At least I'm not like you." The few times I responded that way out loud I ended up eating whatever surface I had just been standing on. Pride in one's uniqueness is not always a good thing to vocalize.

Now that I'm grown, I find that I'm still a bit out of the ordinary. I still love fantasy and science fiction. Until recently, I was still playing roleplaying games - and that really only stopped because all of my gaming buddies moved away. I still watch Japanese animation on a regular basis. I still love working with computers (and have made a career out of it). Heck, I'm still even quiet and shy. Somehow, a grown man that is into these types of things is strange and I'm left wondering why.

Who is it that determines what is normal and what is weird?

I know people who are more into the things that they like than I ever was into the things I do. I see people driving down the freeway in their silver and black SUVs with "RAIDER NATION" boldly painted on their back windows, with Raiders trailer hitch covers and Raiders hubcaps on the tires. And what do I think? "Wow! That's strange." I see kids with weird haircuts and body piercings in places that just shouldn't be pierced. I see their tattoos. I hear their music, and watch their attitudes. And what do I think? "Wow! That's strange." I've known people who have shrines in their houses built in honor of Elvis or Dale Earnhardt. And what do I think? "Wow! That's strange." I know people who spend all of their time at the beach surfing. And what do I think? "Wow! That's strange."

Strange is relative. It really is. But I think God intended it to be this way. Fred Rogers is credited with saying "Remember, you're unique. Just like everybody else." Whether he really said that or not isn't relevant. What's relevant is that if you ignore the irony in that statement, you find that it's true. Each of us has been uniquely crafted by a God who is infinitely creative. Like snowflakes or fingerprints, each one of us is different. In that way we are, as Phil Joel crooned, "Strangely normal. There ain't nobody else we were born to be." And frankly, I find that to be a pretty beautiful thing.

- Rez

Aging (Dis)gracefully

2005-12-01T09:44:00.000-08:00

"Some things never change, no don't ever change
And I'm feeling the cold
thinking that we're getting older and wiser
when we're just getting old"
- David Gilmour, Near The End

"I'm 37. I'm not old..."
Michael Palin, Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail

Age is a funny thing. Last January I celebrated my 37th birthday. Well, "celebrated" is probably the wrong term. "Observed" probably fits better. The older I get the less excited I become about the aging process. Partly because it seems that the older I get the faster it goes by. But mostly because I thought I'd have it all figured out by now - whatever "it" is. What I'm coming to realize is that the more I know, the more I realize I don't know squat.

I'd like to think that I'm getting wiser.

Proverbs 16:31 says, "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life." I wonder what that means for those of us who are balding? "A bald head is a dunce cap; it is attained by a stressful life."? (Edit 1-17-06: I just found Leviticus 13:40, so I feel a little bit better). Actually, I'm not losing any hair. It's all still there. It's just slipping off of my skull and onto my back. I swear I'm growing hair in the weirdest places now - sometimes I just want to take a bath in Nair and call it a day.

I've recently come to the conclusion that in the 30 years that I've been a Christian, I really haven't been a Christian. If a Christian is a follower of Christ, one who imitates His ways, one who attempts to follow His teachings, one who has a "personal relationship" with Him, then I am failing miserably.

I've always had this feeling that those who grew up in the Church are missing something. A few weeks ago we sang a song in church which in part goes, "Now that You're here everything is different, everything's so different." After the service my wife and I looked at each other and said, "different than what"? We were both "saved" before we hit our tenth birthday. It's all we've ever really known.

I've always felt bad that I don't have a long and dramatic testimony to give to people. Sure I had a rebellious stage in my teen years. I drank a little, smoked a little, cussed quite a bit, looked at dirty magazines more than I should have, etc., but I wasn't ever really a true heathen. I always had this sense that I believed in God, even when I wasn't acting like it.

At 19 I started questioning what I truly believed. Realizing that I wasn't ever going to go back to church if I didn't truly believe in it, I felt I had to make a decision. To my mind, there's no use in being a "pew warmer". It would be a complete waste of time to do a thing that I didn't really believe in.

So I chose. I chose to go back to church and, I thought, to God. What I ended up going back to was rules and regulations - the "religion" that so many see - the dos and the don'ts of duty. I find, looking back, that most of my time in church up until this point has been spent in trying to get something out of God - something for me. Unfortunately, that something isn't a something that God promises.

It's been a tough year for me, this 37th year of my life. It has brought heartache, stress and grief with it. From losing my church home, to real struggles in my marriage, to the untimely death of my father. It has been a year of dreams being shattered, and some of them are not done being broken.

I'm coming to a point in my life however, as a man and as a Christian, where I'm finally starting to figure out what it actually is that God promises us. Jesus said it best (He usually does), when he said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10b) I'm realizing that my dreams (no matter how good those might be) are not necessarily God's dreams. That when my dreams line up with God's dreams, then all of my dreams will come true. I am learning to open myself up to God more than ever before - and it's hard!

I don't think many of us ever really pay much attention to the cliches and platitudes we spout out on Sunday mornings. We sing songs like "Refiner's fire, my heart's one desire is to be holy" without ever really thinking about how much a refining fire is going to burn us. We quote scripture like "...whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." (Matthew 16:25) without realizing how tough it really is to give up control of our lives. I don't know about you, but I hate not being in control. When people tell me to "surrender yourself to God", I nod and smile, but inside I want to scream "Yeah, fat chance!" We pray for God to give us patience, and then complain when He gives us opportunity to demonstrate patience. On and on it goes.

I am at a point in my life when I am beginning to see the necessity of trials. I still don't like them - doubt that I ever will - but I am now starting to see how God uses trials in my life to draw me closer to Him. I spent a lot of time this year being angry with God. I spent a lot of time yelling at Him for the way my life was going. He has lovingly responded to me by directing me to Job 42:5-6, "My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes."

If you don't know the story, Job has seen calamity after calamity come into his life. He responds like most normal people would, he yells out to God, "Why me?!" God responds by telling him, "Who do you think you are to question Me? Where were you when I created the universe?" (my paraphrase, of course).

When I first read these verses my initial reaction was "Oh, that's just great! You bring all kinds of trouble into Job's life, he questions you and all you can do is bully him into submission." But when the verse kept coming to mind, I took a deeper look into it. Job had always been a God-fearing and stand-up kind of guy. If I read this right, he was the type of person who always did his duty and did it well ("My ears had heard of you..."). What really floored me was the thing that changed for Job - the actual presence of God in his life("...but now my eyes have seen you."). The presence of God in Job's life was enough to make all of his questioning basically irrelevant. Job questioned God, God answered in a way that to human understanding isn't very satisfying. But the presence of God in Job's life was sufficient to stop him dead in his tracks and say, "oh."

God never really did answer Job - at least not by the end of the book (there is a possibility that it was revealed to him at some point in his life, after all we know a few of the background details that Job wasn't privy to at the time). He never said to him, "Well, you see Job, I had this conversation with Satan a while back..." And I wonder how well he would have received that type of explanation of events anyway. I somehow doubt that hearing the details would have made him feel any better. His children were still dead, he was still broke, his friends were still a bunch of buffoons, his wife still didn't understand him. I don't know about Job, but I probably wouldn't have been too happy.

I've had my share of tragedies in the mere 37 (almost 38) years that I've been on this planet. A good many of them have happened this past year. I've questioned God with "Why?". Most of my questioning has been met with answers (when I'm actually listening) like "rest in Me" and "be still and know that I am God".

I am learning, however slowly and painfully, that this is the most important thing. Suddenly verses like "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." (Matt. 16:33) and "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds" (James 1:2) are taking on a whole new meaning.

I guess experience does come with age, and wisdom with experience. It just takes a few moments of reflection to figure that out.

- Rez

Unfathomable

2005-02-14T08:33:00.000-08:00

If I might be allowed to amplify Romans 8:38-40 a little bit...

"... I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can't, and life can't. The angels can't, and the demons can't. Bad grades can't. Financial worries can't. The lack of employment can't. A hectic schedule can't. Natural disasters can't. The sudden death of a loved one can't. The breakup of your closest relationship can't. Your rebellious child can't. An overpowering addiction can't. The loss of your temper can't. The onset of depression can't. All of your faults and foibles can't. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, and even the powers of hell can't keep God's love away. Whether we are high above the sky or in the deepest ocean, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord."

God's love for us reaches higher and deeper than we can ever imagine. His dreams for us are brighter and better than any we could possibly conceive. He pursues us doggedly and passionately and relentlessly.

Here, outside of Eden, it isn't always easy to see that. I, for one, am glad he had it written down to remind us. Sometimes it's all the hope I can cling to.

- Rez