God – Page 2 – The Agape Narrative Project

Getting in Position

Practice makes perfect is a common phrase heard in any training scenario. We all know that if we continue to push past our aches and doubts, we can achieve immense things beyond our original expectations. We are shown this through all forms of media including movies, books, video games, sports, and more. But I have found, in my own experiences and those who share with me, when we are walking with God, seldom do we feel as though we are up to the task or that we are making any advancement. The common method of seeing God as a transactional vending machine of our own will and desires within the confines of His law has sullied our ability to hear Him or fully have faith in God’s plan over our own agenda. This is common amongst the most attended church goers along with those who are just opening the door to Jesus. Once we hit a snag, the stumble that may not lead to a fall could result in an about face from the only thing we know can give us joy. With the knowledge of perseverance producing results, we still find ourselves running on the field while it feels like the game just happens around us.

Recently, I came to understand it in a way like American football. The quarterback has asked me to run out 4 yards and make a left slant and to be in position and available to catch the ball. The huddle breaks and I sprint to the line eager to make an impact. “Hike” catches me off guard and I panic and just play defense in hopes to protect the ball. The whistle blows and I hear “same play” as I run back to the line reminding myself of the play. The second snap is made but I ran too short, hooked left, and the ball is thrown to someone else. In my arrogantly dutiful mood, I shake my head and get back in line. “Same play” is said again in the brief huddle. I run an almost perfect route, but my focus was on the route and not the ball, so it was thrown to someone who was available. Now frustrated with myself I wait for another play to be called but again I hear “same play.” I slowly walk to the line convicted to do it perfect. I run out 4 yards and slant left all while keeping my mind on the gameplan but instead, a run up the middle scores us another few yards. At this point when I get to the huddle I am irked and frustrated. I hear “same play” and throw my hands in the air and think why do I bother. I run that route a few more times with no passes coming my way. Convinced that the defense is on to my route, I decide to make my own routes for the rest of the drive.

Down after down I feel less like a part of the team and eventually the quarterback pulls me aside. “What is wrong?” he asks as I throw my helmet down and sit on the bench. “You are not doing what you said! You said YOU were going to throw ME the ball” I exclaim with fury. He sits down next to me and asks me “have you not noticed all the gains we have made? We just scored and you are pouting. When did I tell you I would throw it to you?” “You said if I ran out 4 yards and slanted left you would pass me the ball” I mumble as he puts his arm around me. “Did I tell you that you had to be in position and available?” he asks, and my head drops down. “Yes, but..” falls from my lips as he slaps me on the back and throws me my helmet saying “get ready. We are up.”

Often, we find ourselves thinking we are in position and available when we are not. This has caused us to doubt God’s promises since it is not meeting the expectation we have set with our own agenda in mind. For some, this leads to running their own routes like I have recently. When I was younger, I turned away from God for the same exact reasons. With our corrupted nature this is not something we just read or experience once without repetition but with due diligence and perseverance combined with the guiding hand of God and strong community of believers we will progress with Christ. The next time we ask ourselves why we are not hearing God or feeling the Holy Spirit as robustly as previously experienced, do not make assumptions but ask yourself if you are available to Him and in position.

What Are We Waiting For?

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One thing I know for certain, is God seeks us with immense patience and love. Earlier in my journey to accept God back in my life, I had asked one of my mentors a question thinking it would take a while to answer. I could not imagine there would be such a clear concise response when so many people have claimed there is no evidence of God. I asked him, “what do you hold on to that makes you so sure this is all real? What keeps you believing?” He responded after only one deep breath and said, “the tomb was empty.” The interesting part about my mentor’s response was that it appeared he knew I was going to ask this question. He also knew I was not really questioning God’s existence but pleading with him for something my simple brain could process so my heart could seek God. This is akin to giving a dog a chew toy so you could cut the dogs nails.

God is currently walking me through a trial that I thought I understood fully. A man came to me after finding out about my faith and told me he has trouble forgiving God for taking his son. After a few minutes he explained he knew it was not that God killed him, but he was allowed to be taken for reasons that may have been for the benefit for both. I was humbled to see this type of response, but I knew we were not out of the woods yet. As the conversation continued, he stated he was the last of his friend group, which was filled with addiction and violence, but believed he was the worst of all of them. I asked him how he found God in his life, and he claimed God saved him from the depths of hell. I replied that God must really love him so why are you hiding from him? This is when he finally told me what was really keeping him from growing closer to God. This large man looked at me while fighting back the tears and said, “I don’t deserve to be saved” and my heart floated into my throat.

This writing is not about this man who spoke to me but the heart of many of us that suffer with this same acceptance of the gift of Jesus. To the ones who feel too broken or previously wicked that they cannot accept this sacrifice. As a reminder you are going to fail along the way, and we can always reach back out to our savior, but the death of Christ was not the true feat. His death was not what his disciples preached about after his resurrection. They preached about the resurrection because that was the fulfilled promise. God promised us a new heart and life. Ezekiel 36:36 says, “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” John 3: 3 Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” 2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. Romans 6:4 We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. All these directly point to the idea that we are not who we once were after we accept Christ. To reject the death because we feel unworthy is to deny yourself the life Jesus died for you to have. I am by no means saying forget about the sacrifice. The blood of Jesus washes over us to absolve us from our sins but let us look at it a little differently.

George Herbert authored a poem titled ‘The Sacrifice’ which helped me understand the beauty in God’s plan after the fall of man. O all ye who passe by, behold and see; Man stole the fruit, But I must climb the tree; The tree of life to all, but onely me. When the serpent told Eve, she would not surely die from eating from the forbidden fruit and they ate, the doubt of God’s integrity was cast upon all humans’ hearts in a hereditary like fashion. This explains why we must choose God and why no one is default in that heart posture. Adam ate from the tree, so how does God fix it? He sends His son to climb another tree and take the full weight of our sins for us. With the resurrection we see the gift of new life fulfilled. This came full circle to me earlier this weekend after I spoke with the man I previously mentioned who was battling with not feeling worthy of God’s love and Jesus’ sacrifice. When it was presented to me, I realized it started with man and a tree, was solved with man and a tree, and how do we know it was true? The tomb was empty. The sacrifice was made, and the gift was delivered. All we must do is open our hearts to accept it and be renewed by it. As someone who also struggles with feeling undeserving of God’s love, I can say with the utmost certainty that we are all sinners saved by grace. We may not deserve it, but God loves us and that is why it is called a gift. With the acceptance of this gift comes the death of our own sin so we can live the new life we were designed to live. The answer to all the questions about life’s meaning, purpose, and destiny are all within the acceptance of that gift. So, for anyone who wants a fresh start or hopes to find their calling, I simply ask what are you waiting for?

The Live Ones Hurt

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This past week I felt a dryness to I have never experienced before. For those who live around me, they will immediately perk up to respond with “We have had so much rain! What dryness?!” Even though everything around me was soaked, spiritually I was experiencing a separation from God for reasons I was unable to ascertain on my own that left my heart cracking like a dried riverbed. A series of events led me to uncover myself hidden within a shelter of fig leaves I had built around my own heart. Keeping it from anyone and everything including God. I had noticed my poor actions prior to layering the walls with clay ridden mud because I didn’t know what to do besides keep building. The more I pondered over this reaction, the more I began to barricade myself inside with no concern of the dryness that was spreading to my full body. This dark place felt familiar and safe even though I knew it was going to be the death of me. Purposeful starvation of love seems so obviously bad for me in hindsight, but I was basking in the dry darkness that had once been my home for so long.

The factors that lead me here were only brought to the surface when I finally confessed in a mentor of mine. This was not the original plan for the conversation, but it quickly changed when he noticed my face and demeanor. Physical pain is something that has always thrown off my balance. The weather around me of consistent rain gave me a more accurate determination of the barometric pressure outside than the weather app could ever do. He asked me if what I was feeling was just physical since he noticed how awkwardly I was sitting. I swallowed my accountability pill and decided to tell him about the days prior to our meeting.

While I suffered a silent internal war of physical pain, a church group of mine had started to fall apart. Some had revoked their commitment to an open discussion conversational group based off readings inspired by and containing God’s word. This was one of my safe places with people I felt connected with through faith. A scheduling conflict arose in our group chat and that was the start of the collapse. Texts were sent and emotions were heightened for some including myself. One of the members informed us he was no longer planning to attend since he made other commitments that now did not align with the groups schedule. One of the brothers made a few comments that I was not happy to see. I felt singled out when I offered two possible ways to keep the group meeting that were meat with an assumption of me overstepping my role. This was mostly unwarranted in my mind because there were no roles or leadership positions, but he made it clear that I was not the “leader”, and I was not the one to make any decisions even though I only offered options. This disappointing outcome combined with my physical pain drove me to a dark place of anger I have not seen in several months.

So, I pulled out the contact list and dialed this brother with the plan to clear the air. To my surprise, he answered calmly. Due to my current state of mind this response fueled my anger. I demanded he explain where this tension was coming from and asserted that he was making this personal. He responded with a timid tone lined with uncertainty. Feeling justified at every turn, I reciprocated with my quick-witted responses to every “um” or “er” he made. The relentless interrogation continued for a few minutes until we both received calls from other people. Shortly thereafter, the originator of the group called me and stated that he was “just a facilitator” and agreed with some of my statements in the chat. After a few short seconds of vindication, he then informed me that he would no longer be able to attend the group due to his other commitments to another group he was with before. I felt foolish for even caring about the group. That past hour of emotions felt like a waste to me at this point.

Unsure of how to proceed, I reached out to another good friend who was in a similar group. As far as I had gone down that angry path, I knew I needed help and just kept talking until he heard something he could point out to me. He proposed I prayed over this and advised that I should ponder over if I was projecting my feelings on others. This made a lot of sense. I have always struggled with feeling accepted or respected. Anger has been a problem for me in the not-so-distant past so of course I am in this place right now. Meditation superseded the calls. I thought about my words, my intent, my actions, and my emotions. I did not use harsh language at any point, but over the phone my tone was shaped like a spear that was being hurled through the strength of mild manner vernacular poisoned with ill intent. The transcript would appear like a rose with thorns, but unbeknownst to the reader those thorns were surreptitiously brushed with tetrodotoxin. This realization of my poor reactions was followed up with an apology which was immediately met with forgiveness from that brother, but I still felt out of place. “Where was it coming from?” I asked myself. “I thought I was doing better. Why am I failing myself?… Why am I failing God!?”

For several days I laid in the carcass of my own ego and expectation. The physical pain had me locked into a trap of anguish and my mental health was following suit. So, I withdrew. I hid myself not knowing what I truly felt. I was lacking direction and choosing to not feel anything. I built that shelter around my heart and eventually my whole self. While in there I was shriveling up slowly dying. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that, especially God. While working, I was short tempered, irritable, and volatile. The people I was supposed to serve with love were getting doused in gasoline with every question they asked with no idea that a lighter could be thrown at any time. Awareness of these unchecked emotions spilling into my work life caused me to panic and start filling the cracks in the wall with whatever I could find and eventually withdrawing further into emptiness. The next day is when I was scheduled a meeting with my mentor.

While in his office, I explained all of this to him in less articulate words. He followed up with a few questions. “Is this the first time any brother has let you down on this journey?” I thought about this during the long awkward pause he left ringing in the air. I realized that this was a place I was really hurting. That hurt was from feeling rejected by my own community and the loss of the community itself. “Was this group important to you?” he asked with an understanding look. “Yes,” I replied with tears now resting upon my eyelids ready to break form down my cheek. “Are you grieving?” he asked. “Yes,” stumbled out of my mouth as I fought the crippling wave of emotions trying to overcome my stone like demeanor. In those few questions I found the words for what I need to pray for and registered that I was denying God access to my heart. I knew forgiveness was outside of my walls, but I was afraid I would hurt someone else or give them an opportunity to hurt me if I ever left. In these moments my shelter was crumbling, and I felt the water rise from the once cracked riverbed. In four days I had experienced abandonment and loss which led to self-isolation and anger with an unknown need to grieve during one of the most physically limiting periods of my life. I cornered a brother based off an assumption of disrespect in a group chat. Emotionally, I was ignoring my wife and friends. At work I took out my hostility on people just needing some direction or for simply asking how my weekend was. God was pruning me to better myself and I was retreating from the pain of the event after a branch I felt was “not so bad” was loped off. Several weeks prior to this I told my mentor I thought God was punishing me and he quickly responded, “God does not punish us, he prunes us.” I smiled and said “yeah… I can see that. I am better for it.” Then he responded with words I didn’t fully understand until now. “It’s always great when he is pruning the dead branches, but the live ones hurt.” Yeah… I can see that. And I am better for it.

The Mountain or The Mole Hill?

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To some, my bold perspective and words carry such confidence that my conviction is seen as a mountain of faith with a mighty river of wisdom. To others, my squawking and babbling is more like a mole hill next to run off from the neighbor’s leaky hose. The difference between those responses is not my words but how one’s spirit and soul will receive them. Recently I chose to focus on my calling in life. God’s plan for me is to council others by giving them hope and taking their shame. To show them they have a choice of a fulfilling life. My prayers have lately been lathered with eagerness to serve and soaked in my commitment to excel. Two days ago, I met with four brothers over two different meetings. I listened more than I spoke in the first meeting and did the opposite in the second. God has been reminding me of why I have two ears and one mouth, so I have been doing my best to follow that advice which did not come naturally for me. After my day was done, I was praying for even more to put on my plate to keep my mission active.

The next morning, a brother of mine texted me to tell me he hopes I find rest in my current season of life. I took offense to this concern. “I don’t want rest for I am eager for battle” came to my mind. This brother knows I have walked a painful life with many dark battles. Those who know of my life see me as either a battle-hardened hero born of war or an irresponsible child whose family is a casualty of that same war. That text message caught me off-guard which allowed me to fall into an old trap by the enemy. “He sees me as weak” came to mind which I could not let slide. So, I quickly told him I was not only unwary but thirsty for more. A short while later, my feelings still lingered but the thought crossed my mind that maybe I was overreacting. Maybe, but probably not. I replied letting him know that he could have some insight that I was blind to and thanked him for thinking of me.

As the day progressed, I woke up to my wife reminding me that I should not oversleep since I needed to wake up early for work. So, I got up and made a pot of coffee to keep me alert until bedtime. The next morning I heard a sermon that referenced Hebrews 11:24 “By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter” (NASB 1977). This intrigued me since the pastor was specifically talking about the wording of “grown up” in the verse so I meditated on it for a short time. Out of nowhere I get this revelation. I am not as grown up as I thought I was. That reaction I had to the resting text message exposed me to be callow. I was putting a hero complex on like a plastic badge from the dollar store and thought I had authority. The reality is that at times, even with solid advice and good intentions, I can really act like a child with a sword. God was entertaining my juvenility for a while, but it was about time someone showed me I was a danger to myself or others with how I was wielding this weapon. With knowledge comes power, and with power comes responsibility. I must slow down and grow up to do the mission I asked for. Now I am left with one question: Do I want to take the time to become that hero on the mountain or does this child just want to play on the mole hill?