Stumbling Toward God?

>Its a good time for endings.

…THE HELL IT IS!

I know I don’t usually like to explain myself, but… Robert Smith is the lead singer/only permanent member of the band The Cure. In the 90’s and 00’s, he (they) released four or five albums, each time claiming it would be the last one. Well… that’s lame.

I did not want to do that. When I say I’m done with this, I want to be done with it. If I say that I’m done, and then I keep going, you will think that I’m weak, lack the strength of my convinctions, refuse to let go… whatever. So I specifically said that I was not making any promises.

I know, one vague sentence when the whole rest of my demeanor says “I’m done with this crap” would give anyone the wrong impression. Especially if you have no idea who Robert Smith is. So, everyone thought I was done and… dang it… what was I supposed to do? Well, screw it. You already think I’m weak, and you’re absolutely right.

I’m glad we got that cleared up.

Some days you wake up with your head in a cloud
And when you look up a whole year’s gone by
— <LiM>

When I try to look objectively back over the course of my life, I come to the conclusion that I seem to prefer being miserable. That’s strange, certainly, yet undeniable none the less. I don’t really know what to do with that.

So, over a month ago I picked today as the day that I would dramatically end this blog, but now that it’s here, I find that I really don’t have anything dramatic to say. I did grow tired from the fact that all the comments I was getting were from the unbelievers’ viewpoint – sure makes seeking God seem like a not so valuable use of time… but let’s be honest, I was tired a long time before that. Anyway, I have no desire to do a Robert Smith style ending here, so I’m not going to make any promises one way or another.

Lately, I’ve been consumed with another project that has nothing to do with God. Nothing whatsoever. It’s mildly amusing when my Christian friends keep asking what I’ve been up to, and I know for a stone hard fact that I’ve been engaging in a form of idolatry, but don’t particularly want to come right out and say that.

So, I think this is about the point where I came in.

Happy St. Thomas Sunday.

I did not want to come back from Louisiana. I knew what was waiting for me here. I thought it would be a life-changing experience. “Tell everyone what you saw here,” they said.

It’s impossible not to think about God in a place like that. It’s easy not to think about God in a place like this. It’s real easy. Some people do it for their whole lives. I went about a week, avoiding the issues that deep down I knew I would have to face eventually. But it’s easy not to.

And in the meantime… I had been wanting for some time to get a definitive recording of my old songs, and this seemed like a good time. I was working on one song in particular and was really pleased with the sounds I was getting with new technology that I could only dream of as a starving artist. But I knew that when it came to recording vocals, I would not be able to do the song justice. I am in a very different place now than when I wrote it, and could never capture the sense of bitterness that the song requires. I needn’t have worried, God was all over that one. Circumstances aligned nicely to recreate those old feelings.

It’s easy to get to a dark place. It’s hard to get back out again. Shouldn’t have opened that door, Boy, you knew what was in there… Sometimes the tales say that when you release a spirit from imprisonment, they are so grateful that they will grant you three wishes. I imagine that, more often, they’re just mad as hell.

I wrote my last post at about 5:00 am after a sleepless night. Some thoughts that occur in the dead of night really ought to stay in the dead of night. I considered taking it down, but that seems to annoy people, and it’s a dangerous precedent.

So often I say nothing at all, but when I do speak, I often wish that I hadn’t. I was out with some church folk not long ago, and I’m sure they thought I was just rambling, but I was actually just about to come to a point that would tie it together when suddenly I thought, “WHOA there buddy! Consider your audience!” So I stopped cold, leaving them to just think that I was off my rocker, which is probably accurate anyway.

The blog is tricky thing. I whisper into the wind, but people hear and sometimes what I say comes back again days or even weeks later. It can be difficult to keep in mind an audience one can not see. So forgive the rambling madman, he means not to offend.

There’s really no shortage of people that I could talk to. It’s just that there’s one person in particular that I want to talk to, but that no longer seems to be an option. I do not fully understand why that is either. I could say that the gulf between us has grown so wide and so deep that if we tried to meet half way, we both fall to our deaths. Which is a lovely mental picture, but ultimately, I think it’s really just me.

Let me tell you a little about me. On Monday morning I got up and fixed myself a typical breakfast. I sat and stared at it for a minute or so wondering, “What am I supposed to do with that?” The obvious answer would be, “Eat it,” but first I should pray and it is also my habit to read the Bible while I have breakfast. Well, I honestly did not want to do either of those things, so I decided not to eat either. I plastic wrapped the whole mess and put it in the refrigerator, and did not eat anything the for rest of the day. Sometimes I get carried away when trying to make a point. I’m not even sure what point, or to whom I was trying to make it in this case. It’s just an example of the way I’m wired- everything has to be just right, or else I reject it entirely. All or nothing, no compromises.

It must be maddening trying to talk to me. I tend to answer all personal questions in one sentence or less. One word if I can get away with it. Unless of course, they are “yes or no” questions. I hate “yes or no” questions. I try to favor vagueness over outright lies, but you never know.

It’s not like I would ever take a single step out of my way to make a conversation happen. Everything has to be “just so” naturally, remember? And even when they do, I’m not ready. I can’t help it if even when you ask the right questions, all I get in my head is a stream of pictures and not a single word. I so desperately want to share it all, but no words come. And all I can do is watch as the gulf grows wider and deeper. I wish it were not so, but as they say, wish in on hand, defecate in the other and see which fills up first.

The rational part of my mind is sickened to be permanently attached to such a whiney little snot. I would gladly leave me behind if I had the chance. “So long chump, I hope you get what’s coming to you.”

Some say that I’m harder on myself than necessary, but they don’t know me like I know me. Besides, there’s no one else here to blame.

Sunday nights tend to leave me in a really foul mood. ‘Twas not always thus.

For those following closely, it’s March, and I just got off an airplane.

Nobody else here, baby.
No one here to blame.
No one to point the finger,
It's just you and me,
And the rain.

[Soulless, soul down
By your door]
--U2

I was going to change the title of the blog this weekend. In fact, I nearly stormed out of my church group meeting on Sunday night in order to do so. That title just does not not seem honest anymore. However, to my recollection, I have only “stormed” three times in my adult life, and this occasion did not quite qualify. I would hate to expend all that energy for a group of people whom I doubt would have understood the point anyway. And once again, why does everything always have to be about me?

That’s right, I am so utterly indecisive that I literally have to weigh the pros and cons before I can even lose my temper. (If you think that I am being facetious, there are witnesses who could confirm this.)

Anyway, I have not thought of better title yet.

I think that God is a real prick.
I would feel a bit better if I could say that God was an imaginary prick, but there’s nothing for it.

Last week, I went to a talk given by Lee Strobel, a very well known Christian apologist. Lee Strobel also claims to have been an atheist for thirty years. He said a great many interesting things, but the one that has stuck with me the most is when he stated that Christians have an unfair advantage in debate, because “The truth is on our side.”

Atheists obviously do not like Lee Strobel. Initially this troubled me. “How can you not like him?” I ask to the imaginary group of atheists. “He was one of you!” But that assertion is down right idiotic. He is obviously not an atheist.

So I have to wonder, what makes a guy like this tick? After thirty years of atheism, how can he stand there and so openly declare that Christians have truth on their side? How is he not haunted by the doubts and struggles that I battle daily? Perhaps he was not really an atheist. Could he just be saying that to try to add what hip hop would call “street cred” to his message? Maybe he was really just casually indifferent for awhile, and not a real hard core disbelieving skeptic.

That could be, but still it does not seem to get to the real core of the matter. At some point, it came up that his wife was a Christian first. AHA! Now this is significant. I think many, if not all of you would agree that the rules guiding a man’s life change when there is a woman involved. reason and rationality are usually the first to go.

So I can not help but to question, if this man became a Christian because of his wife, can that really be considered a legitimate conversion?

does that count?