anything but God.

Ridiculous lead-in to a spiritual moment, in 3..2...

I was making cake balls this afternoon. They're completely delicious, and ridiculously easy, and best of all--they start with the making of one of those 99-cent, boxed cake mixes that make less-than-delicious cakes, but positively-addictive batter.

So I'm making this mix, and I'm dumping the bag of powdery-goodness into my pyrex when my hand slips, and suddenly, there's a quarter cup of Betty Crocker on my countertop.

And I have a thought.

Can I use the straight edge of my spatula to make lines of this stuff to snort?

No, probably not, right? But it is that good. And so I find myself on a wild spree of cake-mix possibilities. Can you huff it? Mix it with seltzer or cranberry juice? What happens if you try to flame a spoonful of it--can you freebase Betty Crocker cake mix?

Then, I have a second thought. Two second thoughts, actually.

1. You, Ashley Louise, are ridiculous.

2. And, you'd do well to put half that creativity and mental energy into new ways of fostering a God addiction.

I'm not always that much of a harpy, but I've been having some pretty serious conversations with friends lately--both Christians and non--and, as much time and energy as I do put into faith, it might be time to put a little more. Maybe not more, just...different.

See, I'm concerned that I might be becoming something of a fair-weather Christian. Unlike my undying (and entirely illiterate) devotion to the Cubs, win or lose, I have trouble buckling down to God when it feels like all is lost. I repeat favorite verses to myself--and scoff. I start to pray--and cry through a couple of sentences. I try to take solace in encouraging music--but Ben Folds' Jesusland is not an acceptable worship alternative. Pretty much the only thing that I can always get myself to do is to listen to my favorite sermon, which unfortunately is on the topic of election, and can, in the wrong mood, turn into an hour-long theological debate with myself on whether or not I've been chosen.

In short, I don't always believe God's promises. Then again, if I don't always, do I ever? If I cannot believe that He won't ever leave me nor forsake me when there's darkness, am I really believing it when there's light?

I don't want to oversimplify, nor to denigrate how far We've come together. But, this is a sticky thicket, and an important one at that.

Addiction is marked by a drive to use a substance, or an activity, again and again in the face of a life crumbling, and destroyed by that use. In that sense, my turning away from God when I am most in need of Him is an addiction of sorts. An addiction to negativity, to hurt, and pain, and maybe even Ben Folds. In the past, I have turned, and turned, until it felt like everything inside me was crumbling. And then I kept turning, mistaking one "drug" after another for salvation. Financial security, emotional stability, political activism...

The truth is I still turn. But, maybe there are a couple of things to that one promise--the truth shall set you free.

My name is Ashley, and sometimes, I am addicted to anything but God.