Anything else is just religion.

Sooooo .... either PMS has decided to camp out at my house for an extra long summer vacation or my crazy pills aren't working very well. Either way, I laid down on my bed this afternoon for a few brief moments. I wanted to calm my heart. I wanted to rest my mind. The ceiling fan was turned on its highest setting, which is pretty much like mach 7, and the house was unbelievably absolutely quiet. I covered up with the teacup quilt my mom had made me for Christmas. Not that I was actually cold, but needed the comfort of something homegrown and momma made. And I listened to some small but lively bird singing outside the window. It is moments like these that I really try to soak in the blessing of God's love that is momentarily obvious ... and mine.


I found myself thinking of the verse in Zephaniah about God "rejoicing over me with singing," and I thought to myself, "There is absolutely NO WAY that God ... THE God of the universe ... wants to spend His Saturday afternoon rejoicing over me with singing!" That just sounds absurd! But I still wanted it. I still somehow wildly and insanely craved in my deepest crevices to feel that singing and feel that love of God. So I asked for it. I just prayed ... "God ... I want to FEEL you rejoicing over me with singing." And I lay there. And I rested. And my heart grew still and my head slowed down. Singing? No. No angelic choirs broke through in my robin's egg blue bedroom. No golden harps floated by on ethereal clouds. But I think He was there. I think that somewhere deep down my spirit believed for the first time that it could be true ... that He could love me that much. Maybe he sang me to sleep? Cause the next thing I know my alarm clock is going off and I wake up with this blissful feeling of perfect peace. It didn't really last all that long mind you, but it was mine for that moment.


You know, I've always struggled with believing that God loves me. And I'm not talking about the "Jesus Loves Me" Sunday school song. I mean deeply saturated and rooted in the rock solid affirmation that I am desired, loved, and chosen by my God. That's what I want to know. That's what I'm after. I don't want to live out my Christian life following rules and commandments because the Bible says to. I want to trust and obey God actively in my choices and life because I am mesmerized by Him, by His promised and unconditional love for me. Anything else is just religion.


But unfortunately my feeble and weak faith knees were knocked clean out from under me a few years ago, and I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm still trying to get back on my feet. People that I trusted. People that I had long time respected as spiritual leaders and fathers, failed to be loving and forgiving. They failed to live out and extend the grace that they professed to have received themselves. A private sin that became extremely public. A broken heart and repentant spirit that was ridiculed and disregarded. A community of believers that was removed from me and my family because they were unable to deal with life honestly and biblically. It nearly destroyed me.


So I've found myself at the crossroads of having to untangle the fall inflicted confusion between church and God. The Head and the body. You would think that they are one and the same, but they can unfortunately be miles apart. And listening to the voice of one can so easily infect your thoughts towards the other. So I'm having to decipher what's truth and what's rubble. And rediscover God’s love for me for the first time. So I’m spending my days looking for God-holes … little windows into my world that beam His love onto me. I want to figure out what that love looks like and respond to it. Cause really … anything else is just religion.