Last night I thought I was “losing my religion,” which is a quaint euphemism for going insane over something . . . or Someone.
It was 2:45 in the morning when I awoke and about 4:30 before I finally fell back to sleep.
I knew then that I should just get up out of bed and talk to Him, but I felt annoyed about missing some more sleep and stubbornly tossed and turned for over an hour instead.
During that time, I thought persistently about how close I’ve come several times to abandoning my possibly imaginary Friend, Jesus Christ . . . if that’s even possible . . . which I don’t think it is for me.
There seems to be a compelling grace that makes me persevere in trusting Him no matter what I’ve ever done . . . or failed to do . . . and no matter what He does with me.
For this, I praise Him!
But that doesn’t mean I haven’t come close to losing it all, and I anticipate more such times ahead.
When I was young, it was lust, which was always present. Even years after giving my life to Christ as a mere twenty year old, I later honestly told an old friend once when we were both in our thirties that I couldn’t imagine not having such strong desire because that had been my condition for so long then that it would have felt like I had lost someone close who knew me about as intimately as does God.
Personifying carnal passion and comparing it to Him is absurd, I know, but that’s the essence of idolatry, isn’t it?
These days, I almost can’t wait for the time coming soon when I’m no longer interested. I almost want to be like Francis of Assisi who kept Clare, the love of his life, as a sister so that they could both be married only to Christ.
I almost want that.
In my thirties, forties, and fifties, it was material acquisitions.
The funny thing is that I’ve never been that carried away in this, but I still feel buried under stuff that’s mostly junk . . . or soon will be.
Occasionally, I’ve fantasized about us suffering some kind of natural disaster that “took everything” and I had to walk away with just Karen. The fleeting feeling of freedom in this fantasy is utterly intoxicating to me.
I almost want that too.
In my sixties now, it’s doubts, despair, depression, and deep regrets that I face.
Sometimes, it is all I can do to remember how the Holy Spirit inspires us to forget what lies behind and to press on toward the high calling which is in Christ Jesus.
And sometimes I almost do that.
What’s coming next in the not-so-distant future are more d-words, disease and death.
The giants we are challenged to slay just get bigger as we get older and weaker, don’t they?
There is no possible way to consider that fair!
But who said that life was fair . . . or that God is, for that matter?
But He is Just . . . and Good . . . and Love.
He has gotten me through all that I almost overcame all these many years.
What I could never do, He has always done.
HE IS ABLE to see me through all the way . . . to Him.
“All the way my Savior leads me . . .”
Not almost . . . ALL the way!
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