pent-up-costal

I'm feeling pent up in the church.

This is a funny discussion to have with you, because I've already had it with Him, and there's something about arguing about His existence with Him that takes the umph out of it all.

I say, "I don't know if You exist. I don't know if I can believe You love me."

And He says, "Haven't I been faithful to that day on the beach years ago? You gave it all, and then you strayed, but here you are. Haven't I been faithful?"

I don't know if that's what He really says. But I imagine that it is.

I imagine that He says, "Didn't I save you from yourself? Didn't I find you in the haze of drunkenness, more than once? You could have died in that accident with the floor-to-ceiling glass window. You didn't. You could have kept cutting after you first tried. You could have kept on with drugs. You could have been raped. But I pulled you back each time, by putting My own purposes in your heart. You stopped short because I stopped you short. Haven't I been faithful?"

Yes. Yes, Lord, You've been faithful.

I didn't stop short because I understood fully God's role in my life. I couldn't have. I didn't see Him. I saw myself, and the altar, and the possibility of something, anything better than the desperation of those moments.

But just because I didn't fully see Him doesn't mean He wasn't fully working. He was. And He is now.

So I'm feeling pent up because I'm wrapped up in the moment--the responsibilities and possibilities of my life in the church today. But God is so much bigger than today. His narrative is one of faithfulness, of seeing people through the desperation.

How would I live my faith differently, how would I approach God differently, and be with others differently if I understood that the details of today are nothing in comparison to the great story line of the gospel?