I kept being reminded about the frailty of life this week. I guess I better learn my lesson soon if I want it to stop. We don’t live very long here, and our lives are always hanging in the balance whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. I am not in control no matter whether I feel that I am or not. Not that the frailty of life is a bad thing. Sometimes there is nothing I want more than for this season on earth, for now to be over. But if it is so short I should endeavor to live it well.
I taught about ultimate life this week. That was our theme, and I struggled with it because of those things that I’ve been struggling with in the last two posts and because I don’t feel ultimate life often anymore. Sometimes I catch a hint of it on the wind, but for the most part I live the way I do out of guilt, not freedom and forgiveness. I thought I knew the truth (It’s supposed to set you free), but maybe I don’t know it in my heart. It’s hard to teach when you don’t feel.
I want to feel. I want to live from the abundance of God’s love (not my frail human affection), and from His mercy and His forgiveness. I’ve tried to find life again. I’ve sought. I don’t know where else to go. I listen to the lessons that are gifted me each week by fine teachers. Do this or that to reach ultimate life, and I’ve tried what they say, but I’m beginning to get skeptical because nothing has led me to feel. I know, I know feelings aren’t everything, but they mean a lot to me.
I don’t want to be just the good kid. I don’t want to do the right things due to the wrong motives. I want to help Jesus save the world, (not that He needs me) but I can’t if I can’t even find the joy in Salvation for myself. I’ve read the books, heard the sermons, talked the talk, and been surrounded by people who want to pour His life into me, but somehow I must have missed it. I must have missed the still small voice for the earthquake. See, I can talk the talk. I can make my little smart Christian allusions. But I don’t care if I can talk the talk. Talking means nothing to me; I want to feel.
Nobody else can do this for me. Nobody else can fight my battles, or live my life for me. I’m tired of living out of guilt, and I want the freedom again. I know it’s there, and I know it’s real, so why can’t I find it? It’s a gift I’ve accepted; it’s what I’ve chosen so where is it?