Help me, God.

Dear God,

I don’t know what’s going on with me. I am so lost in this vortex of my own thoughts, Biblical mandates, other’s opinions and hopes and dreams that they’ve projected onto me, my conflicting ideas of who you are, ideas of “right” and “wrong”, and... just so much stuff.

Right and wrong. Is it really so black and white, so crystal clear? Some think so. I used to think so. Now, I’m more towards “there are standards that guide our lives, but not explicit directions for every case, and you have to apply the standards as best you can”.

Am I really just a poor excuse for a Christian? Even in my heyday, I don’t feel like we truly had intimacy. Why do I have so many questions? Reserves? So much rebellion? Why can’t I just do the right thing and forget about everything else? Why do I get so angry with my perception of what you ask Christians as a general whole to do?

I refuse to lose my identity, my wants and dreams and wishes and desires, my likes and dislikes. I will not forsake my identity. I’m so confused, though, over... well, a lot of things. I’ve been taught to behave and believe one way, but the only part of me that really believes it’s the way to go is the part motivated by fear of rejection and fear of punishment.

I believe that I must do the right thing, or you will punish me. You will withhold affection. I won’t be eligible for heaven anymore. One misstep and the eternal consequences kick in. You will ignore me, abandon me, cease to care about me--if, indeed, you cared in the first place (which I have a very difficult time believing).

And I hate being this way, and I can say that I don’t believe it, it’s not true, I believe the opposite, but... to me... it IS true. And something inside me rebels at my compulsion to serve and allegedly love such a person. It’s like I have no choice, because if I choose not to, then the aforementioned horrible things will only be intensified... so I have to. I have to love you and serve you, and while I’m doing that, I have to do it right. Or else.

And so that leads me to this awful love-resent dichotomy. Because I try to love you. I want to. I want to want to, if that makes sense. But I know that I don’t truly love you in the real sense of the word (or any sense?!). And I’m getting to the point where I just want to throw up my hands, throw in the towel, and walk away. After all, I can’t seem to please you when I’m trying, so why try anymore?

Intellectually, I know it’s not true. I know it. I mean, I need to believe it. Not I need to as in “I should”, but I need to as in “I don’t know how I’d handle reality without the knowledge, however faint, that there’s a benevolent deity looking out for me somehow”.

I really hope counseling helps me clear some of this stuff up.

I know you exist. I can’t deny that. The science is too clear. But who are you? What are you REALLY like? If he just believes in your existence, that’s the step I’m looking for. Because that’s where I am. I don’t see us being unequally yoked, because I’m nowhere spiritually. The thing missing is a belief in your existence. Maybe we can learn together? One thing’s for sure... I love him in a way that I can’t seem to love you. That scares me. I’ve heard the dire warnings against idolatry... but in our situation, I think I’m screwed, because even my love for food is more of a tangible reality than my love for you.

What are people seeing when they say they’ve seen me walking closer to you these past few years? When they say they see Jesus in me? I think they’re just seeing a good person, really. I am a good person. A strong person. Is that a bad thing? It sounds like it, according to some Christians, some apparently Biblical teachings. I can’t be good, and I can’t be strong, because you’re supposed to be all that. So what do I do with the reality that I am both?

If you really are capable of reaching down and helping searching people, then help me! It says in the Bible that I will find you if I search for you. 

I can’t believe I made it all the way through Bible college. Unreal. And how miserable I was during that time... trapped. Trapped in a cage of appearances, of “rightness”, of looking and doing and being right for fear of being wrong. (Don't get me wrong- there were happy times, too. Just like there were in the abusive, dysfunctional home I grew up in.)

I am paralyzed by the thought of doing the wrong thing. It is to the point where I’m afraid to do what I think is right, because I’m afraid that it’s really the wrong thing and I’ve been tricked into thinking it’s right! And so I do the “right” thing, because it’s right, and because I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t. In addition, if I want it, it must be wrong. 

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!

How do I know if you care about me? Besides the Bible. Jury’s still out in its veracity and applicability in my mind, until I can study it. But if you are the all powerful God who created the universe to be just-so, I know that you can show me, somehow, if you care about me. Some way that I will recognize.

I’ve heard it said that it’s harder to be lost than it is to be saved. I certainly hope that’s so. I want to be saved, but it’s so hard... how can anything be harder?