confessions of a supernaturalist.

When no one else is watching, I...

spin around and around and around on the kitchen floor in my most slippery socks, singing Prince.

back up as far as I can into the hallway and cannonball onto the mounds of pillows on my bed.

conduct fake video segment "confessionals" a la reality television, about whatever is going on that day.

You thought you were going to get something good, huh? Like...

I push a friend's call to voicemail, knowing she might need my help.

And I say mean things to this one friend, under the guise of our "sarcastic relationship," knowing I'm showing him something entirely antithetical to the love of Christ.

I'm not trying to be down on myself. We all make mistakes. We repent. We pray for help. I'm sincerely working on these things. I've just been thinking about change. About what it means to confess something. And how Christ works in us, to change us, when we acknowledge Him. Not because He doesn't love us, but because He loves us so much.

A year ago, maybe even nine months ago, I didn't understand what this meant. If you had said to me what I just wrote to you, I'd have thought you were slow. Frankly.

I didn't understand that the ongoing process of salvation is not driven by people, but by Christ. I don't change myself, in the same way that I didn't call myself, and I didn't save myself.

I know that sounds like some crazy Christianic nonsense right there. But what I mean is... Christianity is not a consumer-driven entity. I don't go to church, pray, read, and volunteer my way to a new, and improved me. I submit as much as I can, with His love. And He takes that, and something supernatural happens that frees up a little more of my heart. So I give that. And He takes it, and something supernatural happens, and there's a little more of me to give. And He takes it, and something supernatural happens...

It's that supernatural part that I didn't understand. See, the math doesn't add up without it. And that's why I always thought this whole deal was a little screwy. Because if you think that salvation is a one-time deal, that you accept Him once, then just feel guilty about every mess-up until you die--the equation is off. There's nothing beautiful about that relationship. Nothing possible. No hope for real change.

And yet..."something supernatural happens" is not a part of any equation I use. I'm a reasonable person. I teach math. I like sense. I've never been in the middle of calculating a z-score, turned around said, "and here, a miracle happens," picked back up and found the probability.

So, there's mystery. There's something I can't account for. There's faith.

But as I live it, I see it become every bit as real, as proven, as tangible as any matter in front of me. Maybe that's the real miracle of faith. It's like one of those invisible coloring books I had when I was a kid. You paint the page with a clear marker, and bam!--a picture of a panda bear. You live the supernatural, and it begins to appear in the natural.

No wonder they thought He was a magician.