Life

You know what? Sometimes life is just hard. It hurts. And things don't even have to be going bad, either. You simply feel very little more than pain. And you wonder where God is. Or you wonder if God is. I think those times are important.

God allows us plenty of opportunity to doubt. A past teacher of mine always said, "God will allow all his promises to be called into question." With this in mind, I'm thinking about Paul saying "If in this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied." Why am I thinking of this? Because it's when life is hard and when we're asking the hard questions that we want to punt the whole thing and stop believing the promises. But instead, we keep on believing, and hoping, that the promises are true. So we don't sin. Or we don't pursue whatever it is that we would pursue if we didn't hope in God. So we miss out on a lot that the world has to offer. Thus Paul's logic. We're really stupid to live like we do if there's no reward for following Jesus.

But what if we're just giving lip service to the Jesus thing, and our life wouldn't really be different without him?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.

My only answer is that my faith better be reflected in my life choices, or it's no faith at all. Soooooo, when life is hard, and it hurts, I hang on. I keep talking to God. Or, sometimes I don't. I cave. And I act like a whore, and sleep with my suitors. But they leave me wanting. So I want to come back. And I feel like he won't have me.

A friend of mine wrote this Poem:

Waking up next to God

I.
If I were your friend
I would tell you that you are
An idiot
that you are
being laughed at
that you are making a fool of yourself.

But I am not your friend,
I am your beloved.

Infidelity, betrayal, abandonment
Fiction, lies, and damned lies
Are common currency
In our house
Fueled by my anger
at your faithfulness.

You will never know
how guilt
ferments into anger
Every time I return,
Late with another’s kisses on my lips
Bruised and sore
From a night of wanton dissolution
(let’s be honest, infuriated lust)
Only to find
That yet again
You have left
dinner in the oven
Desert in the fridge
And forgiveness in your note
To me
Which reads

Please
Never stop coming back.


II.
Sliding my legs between the sheets
I hear your soft and steady breathing
Which tells me that you sleep easy,
Free from torment
While I, freshly showered
To wash away the scent of my sin
Struggle with anger
That melts into sorrow
And sinks into weeping
Until
I feel your arms wrap around me
Cradling me with a love so warm
My tears soften into sleep
Barely registering the truth
That you were not sleeping
After all.

Jim Evans

Isn't it true?