Why I’m Not Very Good at Christianity

When I was young I wanted to be good at Christianity. A good religious person works the system of Faith as prescribed. I understood that if you mark the right boxes on the to-do list and do them well then you’re a good Christian. I was overly self-confident and arrogant, relying on my own abilities and self-discipline to practice doing and being the person I thought would please God and bring success.

Thus far, I have tried to make God into a system or formula with some relationship in the mix. It wasn’t all false; I was really seeking him. And he continues to find me. Even while I’m lost and “doing it wrong”. In my own efforts, I figured if I practice the spiritual disciplines enough then I will get the results right. It’s sort of plug and play religious thinking. It’s an algebra problem. Solve for “X”. If you don’t get x right then figure out what you did wrong and try again.

Being a flawed human, there are endless possibilities of what I could have done wrong because I am imperfect. Plus the fact that my idea of what x should be is based on my own selfish, faulty assumptions and interpretations of the Bible and church life. X could mean success in the forms of prosperity, fame, comfort, book contracts, health, Christian converts, real estate, etc. If and when I achieve these things then I would assume I’m working the formula right and he is pleased with me.

But no, I’m too weak to run the entire gauntlet of steps needed to make the formula work. And so shame kicks in. There’s obviously something wrong with me. So maybe I should go into hiding until I get stronger and get the steps right. That’s what the greats do, right? They enter the desert, figure it out, God gives them strength and they emerge from their desert experience as Super Christian Heroes.

The truth is no one emerges from a real encounter with God wanting to be a Christian hero. Why? Because God is too much. Such an encounter usually involves a jarring life change. And so a real humility sets in. An overwhelming realization of my own limitations, inadequacies, and a painful awareness of my own deceitfulness and sin is burned into the soul, never to be forgotten. Since I cannot pretend anymore, the only option left is surrender. My own efforts and my own Christian algebra formula is an unsolvable equation.

“But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:
‘God opposes the proud
but shows favor to the humble.'”
James 4:6

I’m forced to have a relationship with God where I have no more games and nothing left to hide or prove. It’s a total sense of horror at my own deception and very freeing at the same time because he forgives me and loves me, knowing everything about me. It’s both terrible and wonderful at the same time. It’s a terrible blow to the pride and sense of self-sufficiency I used to have. However, I’m not alone in my struggles anymore.

I don’t really like it because I’m not in control. I don’t get to create my reality to suit my tastes and preferences. I do like it because he is here with all of his peace and presence to shepherd and take care of my needs one day at a time. Throughout the New Testament, Jesus calls someone and says, “Follow me”. His disciples dropped their fishing nets and other occupations and agendas and followed him. After that, they were no longer in control of their day to day lives.

Put simply, it’s transitioning from “I’m not very good at this” to “he is very good at this”. Thankfully, his grace is sufficient for me. It hurts my pride and comforts my soul. What a wonderful, uncomfortable thing to admit I’m not very good at Christianity.

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
Galations 2:20

Forrest Gump & The Magic Line

Perhaps I’m a little dumb, like the movie character, Forrest Gump.

Hand me a football, point me towards the end zone, and tell me to run. Like Forrest Gump, I don’t really know when to stop. Forrest would keep going past the end zone until someone helped him. This video makes me laugh every time!

Forrest Gump Running the Football for Alabama

STOP Forrest!

I had been working full time, taking Seminary classes, serving as church treasurer, and navigating family changes during the last 2 years of the pandemic. I was on empty and didn’t want to admit it.

During long drives, I don’t like to pull over at the exit even when I need gas. I want to get wherever I am going even if there is no real hurry to be there. I barely take a lunch break at work. I am internally driven. Perhaps it is the first born syndrome. I need to have a significant and challenging goal ahead of me. But I suspect there is more beneath this internal drive.

Father, I don’t like stops. I have begun to realize that I see you as a hard taskmaster who demands too much of me. I often run fearfully, thinking I’m never doing enough, nor am I good enough. But perhaps if I keep running then one day I will cross a magic line, having achieved enough to consider myself worthy of you and people.

Seminary seems like a good way to find that magic line. Learn a lot, grow, and earn a Masters degree. Regardless of my false motivations, I am convinced that you have called me to study and pursue ministry. No one wakes up one day with perfect motivations to follow you into ministry.

I believe everything you call us to is part of your plan to grow us in maturity and intimate relationship with you. I have looked for an easier way, but there is no running from you. Whether I am called to be a vocational minister, auto mechanic, cashier, wealthy, poor, or retired. You are there, constantly working and cultivating my heart in Christ Jesus.

Seminary is now on pause in order to rest and regroup financially. We have an empty nest at home. I cannot ignore my heart behind the distractions of study and other responsibilities. I do try to find some escape in YouTube and sports, but that only goes so far.

Now I am having to deal with areas that have been stewing beneath the surface of my consciousness. I believe a lot of us are having to do this as the pandemic seems to taper off. Coming out of a crisis is often harder than going into one. Everything that was perhaps put aside in order to deal with the immediate challenges of the pandemic are now needing to be dealt with.

Father, what do you want to do during this rest stop? You know it is more painful for me to stop than to keep going. I’m afraid of losing momentum and motivation. I’m afraid I will miss you. Maybe you will move on without me. I am afraid of the weakness and weariness I now feel. What if I never feel strong again? Did I ever really? How long will I have to wait?

Truly, I find that your mercy is renewing me. Like cold water being poured over my sweaty, shaking hands. And you begin to draw me away into the shadow of your wings.

Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.

Talk about an area where you are having to wait for God. How is he using this time to get your attention and work in your heart?
What kind of unique challenges are you dealing with as we slowly emerge from the pandemic?

“How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.”
Psalm 36:7

A Melting Resistance

Daring, Volatile Steps Towards God

Have you ever been angry at God? Not me, until now. My eruption turned into a series of journal entries. Too honest. Too recent. Embarrassing. But I need this, and I suspect we all do. Shall we? I’d rather watch basketball.

A Shadowy Figure Emerges

I am the lifelong Christian, like the Elder Son in the parable of the prodigal son. I have been the prodigal also. But now, having returned home years ago and restored to good standing, I find myself growing cold. Or perhaps a part of me has been cold all along.

Father, I am afraid of you. Afraid of the demands of life and my place in it. Internally, I find it hard to rest. I truly do not grasp what you mean by “my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:30). How can I rest and be secure in you when there is so much to do? In my view you remain a harsh task master standing over me, waiting for me to do something significant. And I, the one who wants to bury my talent for fear of doing it wrong.

I simply don’t have the capacity to do everything I see should be done. I’m so far behind. I will never be strong enough. The stronger I get, the more I see that needs to be done, the more I see the need to be stronger. How do I live and work from a place of rest, even while under strain?

And so I’m angry at you God. Why did you do this to me? Why do you demand so much from me? From someone so weak?

Why do you stand over me like a critical and disappointed Father? Why do you condemn me whenever I make a mistake? Why do you hold over me the fear of your judgment? I hate you for that. I’m bitter, resentful and tired of trying to please you under these terms. This is ridiculous. How could you?

I thought I understood grace. Freedom in Christ. In this moment I realize that what I think and what I believe can be two very different things. Somewhere behind my obsession with performing for God, a shadowy figure has emerged. This person is unknown to me until now. Wounded, bitter, and enraged. He is tired of the beating I give him. It appears I house a divided self: one who works desperately to please God and the other who has yet to know and rest in God’s true nature. The restless one erupts unexpectedly and painfully.

“Think for a moment about how Christ-following develops if you assume God looks at you with disgust, disappointment, frustration or anger. The central feature of any spiritual response to such a God will be an effort to earn his approval. Far from daring to relax in his presence, you will be vigilant to perform as well as you possibly can. The motive for any obedience you might offer will be fear rather than love, and there will be little genuine surrender. Surrender involves relaxing, and you must feel safe before you can relax. How could anyone ever expect to feel safe enough to relax in the presence of a God who is preoccupied with their shortcomings and failures?”
David G. Benner, Surrender to Love: Discovering the Heart of Christian Spirituality

This may seem like a disappointing development from an otherwise mature Christian. And it probably is. But for me this also reveals a beautiful, growing trust in my Father to bring these hurts out of the darkness and show him. How often we are growing the most when it seems we are falling apart. The key is to keep moving towards him, bringing ourselves into the light. This is true maturity when he touches our places of immaturity.

Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.

What has God done in your life that has made you angry or upset with him?
In what ways are you “performing” in order to feel worthy of God and others?
Are you aware of a “shadow self” or a wounded person within that you are trying to compensate for in your life? (If you’re not aware, ask God to show you if there is a place that you are hiding from him and yourself.)

“Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Psalm 139:23-24