more thoughts on hope.

i'm still stuck on the concept of hope.

i'm reading a philip yancey book right now entitled "disappointment with god." i recommend it. in chapter 12 he talks about how hope is the deepest of human emotions--not just among believers, but throughout humanity. countless fairy tales and cartoons give us the message that there will be a happy ending. when faced with unimaginable tragedy or the common cold, most people have the mindset that it'll all work out, everything will be okay. 

yancey quotes tolkien's thoughts on the message of fairy tales: "[Fairy tale] does not deny the existence of...sorrow and failure: the possibility of theses is necessary to the joy of the deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat...giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief."

interesting. isn't that the hope given by the old testament prophets and believed by christians today--that the world will not end in "universal final defeat," but in Joy? but what about right now? sometimes the end of the world seems a little too far off. must i wait until the end of the world for answers to my questions about god or a solution to my being disappointed with him?

isaiah 63.9 tells of god's relationship with his people: "in all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. in his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old."

i have a hard time believing that god is distressed when i'm distressed or that he carries me with love and mercy--not in the future, but right now. recently, a professor asked me what about me pleases jesus. i had a hard time answering her and honestly, i'm still thinking about her question. i have a hard time believing that jesus loves me and is pleased with me right now. i find myself thinking that he'll really love me when i quit wrestling with all these questions or when i quit being a crazy or when i figure out how to have faith or how to pray. 

but isn't the message of christmas, the hope of emmanuel, that god came to be with us in our everyday lives right now? like isaiah proclaims in isaiah 40.1, "comfort, comfort my people, says your god." MY people. YOUR god. there's a covenant relationship there. comfort, hope, peace available right now through the coming of jesus. do i believe that? rather, do i live like i believe that? 

the only hope.

in celebrating advent, this week is all about hope. i'm reading through an advent guide produced by buckner international. get it here: http://www.buckner.org/advent-daily.shtml

one of the readings in the advent guide this week was about the difference between hope and wishful thinking. i think too often my hope is less like unwavering assurance and more like wishful thinking. i guess it's a lack of faith or confidence, a struggle to believe, perhaps. 

hebrews 11.1 (esv): "now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

i don't really know how to make the transition from wishful thinking to blessed assurance. any suggestions?

maybe bebo can help me out. he usually does. this song is on his newest cd. you should get it.

"the only hope"

i want to run, it's my nature to run

and i want to fight, it's my nature to fight

and i want to live, but you tell me to die

i have resolved that i'm much better off in your hands than mine

i'm begging you to hold on tight

begging you to hold on tight

begging you take my life from me

i want a crumb, but you are a feast

i want a song, but you are a symphony

i want a star, but you are a galaxy

and i have resolved that i'm much better off in what you have for me

i'm begging you to hold on tight

begging you to hold on tight

begging you to take my life from me

so tell me you won't let go

tell me you won't let go

cause you are the only hope for me

take my life from me, it's the only hope for me

take my life from me, it's the only hope for me

and i'll never want for more

i'll never want for more

i'm begging you to hold on tight

begging you to hold on tight

begging you to take my life from me

so tell me you won't let go

tell me you won't let go

cause you are the only hope for me

you're the only hope for me

yeah, you're the only hope for me

i especially love the verses of this song. they nail me in the way i think and relate with god. and then the chorus is this reminder that it's not really about me or the way i think. my desperate hope is really about him holding on to me, not the other way around. 

thankful.

thanksgiving is usually my favorite time of year. well, i think fall is my favorite season anyway, but thanksgiving is especially great. it's all the good things of christmas minus the materialism. it's the food, the family, the football, minus the frenzy. 

but for some reason, this year's was a little anti-climatic. i feel like it just came and went. don't get me wrong, i've loved being around my brothers and my mom, but somehow i missed the nostalgic memories and feelings of gratitude and warmth this year. i was okay without the nostalgia--i'm not to the point yet of remembering and being happy, and i wasn't in the mood to be sad--but i'm not okay with missing out on the gratitude.

in fact, somehow i ended up on the other end of the spectrum. it was an enjoyable day, but right before bed, i got really overwhelmed and frustrated, and made a list of all the things that make me angry. anger is such a weird emotion. i think it's okay to feel, and healthy to vent, but just a little strange since i'm not a typically angry person.

so instead of dwelling on that list, i want to come up with a list of a few things i'm thankful for...

black coffee.

sweatpants.

(especially since i'm enjoying both of those right now.)

mom.

luke and drew.

laughter.

reunions.

long-distance friends that can pick up right where we left off.

new friends in waco.

friends that are more than twice my age. 

good conversations over coffee.

God's patience with me.

i think i'll leave it there. i'm thankful.

blog from a skeptic

last night i finally finished a book called "letters from a skeptic" by greg boyd. i think i mentioned it in a previous blog. i whole-heartedly recommend it, especially if you've ever questioned things about God or faith. basically it's a collection of letters between greg and his father, who goes from being a bad ass atheist to believer with beautiful, childlike faith. it's an incredible journey. at the end, he admits that he still has questions, but now he'll ask them not as a skeptic, but as a believer.

that struck me, because i think i ask my questions as a skeptic...like when i ask, i feel hopeless that i'll find a satisfactory answer, and when someone does give me an answer, i doubt the answers. 

i don't really know why i'm like this. the questions started over 2 years ago, but i know that somewhere in there, there was a season in which i depended on God more than i questioned Him. like right after dad died, i felt like God was all i had, so i needed him to be real in those days. then somewhere in the stages of grief, i turned from that to being angry and frustrated with Him, which i believe is completely okay, but what's not okay is that instead of taking it out on Him and working through things with Him, i just shut down in my relationship with Him. 

i'm not saying i like this or that i want it to be this way. the truth is, i desire that childlike faith. i want to know Him. i want to trust Him. i want to love Him. i just don't know how to get to that place. i feel like the answer is prayer, but prayer frustrates me. we've been talking about prayer all semester in my covenant group at truett, and basically, i think they all think i'm crazy. i feel like they don't know what to do when i question things or make things complicated. it's so easy to feel misunderstood.

i thought about this question last night and i'm still thinking on it: do i really believe that God understands me? that He gets me? that He doesn't think i'm crazy?

thanks, oswald.

this last weekend was baylor homecoming. talk about nostalgic. i felt like i was reliving my childhood. i think i've more or less developed a love/hate relationship with nostalgia. lots of good memories, but lots of missing my dad. he would be giddy over me being at baylor. 

a friend recently pointed me back to one of the first blogs i wrote about consuming thoughts and flashbacks. i wrote about how sometimes it's easy to grow comfortable in my discomfort and easier to harbor thoughts of being lonely and misunderstood than to find the strength to "choose life" (deuteronomy 30.19). funny that i feel like i haven't made much progress since then, or worse, maybe i've even regressed. 

dr. jim denison at park cities baptist church sends out a daily email essay discussing current events and offering devotional thoughts. in today's he quoted oswald chambers: "to believe is to commit." interesting. does it always come back to this? faith is a choice. believing is committing. that just sounds so cold and distant. chambers claims that in the end, the result of all the believing/committing is finding that "faith is as natural as breathing." what?! i don't know if i agree with that. if it was that natural, would it really be faith?! is faith not always this much of a struggle? 

sometimes...a lot of times...i feel like i'm missing something. i sit in my seminary classes, read my textbooks, listen to other people talk, and i just wonder if i know the same God that i'm reading and hearing about. maybe if i just choose more or commit more, i'll finally get it. but isn't that just some sort of mind game or test of willpower? that can't be right. is it an issue of discipline? like should i make myself read my bible more or pray more? i thought it wasn't about the religious checklist, but if i'm not reading and praying, where does the "relationship" come from? 

i'm sick of knowing ABOUT him. i just want to know him....whatever that means. in the words of my roommate, maybe i just need to "calm the hell down."