Disbelief in the Context of a Greater Love
There is so much confusion in this world, and although I love to learn, sometimes it can be really hard to accept that very few people see that as valuable in themselves.
We are such beautiful creatures, as humans. We have this enormous capacity to love, and yet, we can be so afraid. This entire spectrum of love, togetherness, knowing, and experience, and so many lonely hearts that live their lives in sorrow because the pain of being isolated indefinitely clouds one’s eyes so much more than any of us has the power to break.
No one promises a miracle cure, on this earth. How long will it take these cynics to grow weary enough to run to the one thing that would heal them? Oh God, I have no idea. But I know that my part to play is small, and God doesn’t need me in the same way that I need him.
He sends his Holy Spirit as a gift. He provides me all the tools I need to change my reality, but reality is vicious. She doesn’t discriminate. She is cold and cruel to so many, and very few speak out in contrast. So few allow the passion to care, and the world bleeds because of it.
I love this world, but I love God more. I love knowing that my life was perfectly composed all along, even when I could not explain it. I love having the forgiveness I need to disregard all the things that wound me. I know there is greater. If that makes me “ignorant”, I will be ignorant. The greatest ignorance, if you ask me, is to openly deny the existence of something you can’t understand, out of utility.
So many people try to call followers of God and specifically, Christ “unintelligent”. How could you do that? Do you truly believe God loves you any more than he loves the rest of us? Or is it that you feel like he must hate you so? He does not. He would never. It is not in him.
But it is in us, and we live with it every day. We sleep with it, walk with it, talk with it like it; it consumes us. Can we allow ourselves to sit with what we cannot control, in favor of what we long to not explain? If my understanding is only as extensive as my ego, I am still damned to misery. I want more. Today. I ask for more because it is available, and if that makes me a fool, then at least I will know better.
I care about you, even if you insult me. I never asked for this, for this pain to be with us both. Why do you blame me for our mutual misery, here and there? It is not in me any more than you. I did not cause it. It can be beautiful and terrible, but that is the life we live. In times of utmost desperation and unknowing, wouldn’t it be enough to just let things be, while we still cannot explain? To draw close to the things that are universally important, or at least, the rest of the world seems to crave? We cannot know any better. It is not in us. If Christ is the truth that pervades all of it, would you dare to allow yourself to grow beyond what you will never understand? You don’t have to justify it. The justification is the cross.
“Striving after the wind” in all that we do never came so easy as when we publish it, and the contest between knowing and disbelief and dis-knowing has become so great that the love just seems to die. Would you write about something that couldn’t be less genuine, instead of what you think you need? I cannot be more than I am. I just want to believe in a greater good, for just a little while longer, until I know it with my eyes. Don’t ever call me ignorant again. It makes it so much harder to love when the pain of merely living is something I see everywhere, and yet, it is not mine to accept. I may be the vessel for what is true, here and there, but I cannot be the truth. I cannot help you. It must come from him, and when I see all sorts of pain and suffering, I know how small I am because I am equally helpless. What can I do for you, except to talk about the only peace I have, in Christ? I wish you could imagine, but you ignore me. I know it is not my place to solve your problems for you, but I know that if you only believed me, “solving” would no longer be the goal, it would be accepting them long enough to have a peace in grace that saves. I cannot be any different than the grace I have chosen once I begin to pursue it, even though it is not me and it does not come from me. If you see the truth in whatever I do, in the words I say, in the love I have but cannot explain, then it speaks for me. But to feel the full burden of the truth, knowing that it is not my own, and thusly be accused of it? Well. At least there is still the grace that corresponds with it.
You cannot have good things without sorrow. You cannot know Justice without understanding something more than yourself. You cannot be better, or smarter, or more helpful, or less clueless. You have to allow those things to exist while you struggle to find a greater good that can heal them. My greater good is Christ, and I have lived to see that be the truth, as it will be further known to me later. What can I say, except to say that the truth was always free and freely available? I may miss being home, but it is nothing like being blind. I would choose miserable and beautiful over trapped any day.
I cannot know you fully unless I meet you, but I am not afraid of you. We have the same Creator. Why should I be afraid of you, if loving you was only a matter of the amount of time I spend with you? Why should I be so afraid, if it only takes time to adjust to what I cannot know? We are the same. You are like me. I am like you. It should be enough.
We can claim that Christians are _______ for as long as we want, if we do not each talk to one another. It is not my place to lie to you. But I can be willing to talk, and love talking about the God who loves me. I cannot be better. But I certainly can share.