God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
   his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He's all I've got left.

 God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
   to the woman who diligently seeks.
It's a good thing to quietly hope,
   quietly hope for help from God.
It's a good thing when you're young
   to stick it out through the hard times. Lamentations 3:19-27

Last night I went to "Before The Throne" at my church. It was an extended time of worship preceded by a brief teaching. The focus this week was Worship as an Act of Faith. That is, worshiping God for what He is going to do, not just what He has done.

I don't do that so good. I'm great at worshiping Him for who He is and what He's done, but what He's yet to do….? Not so much. Mainly because, in all honesty, I don't really trust that He will do it. So I take the cowardly way out and wait till He does.

Last night, though, I made a decision. A choice. I choose to believe the promises He's given me. I choose to believe for the dreams and hopes and desires He's placed in my heart. Though it take my lifetime, I will worship Him for what He will do. Until He comes through for me or until He tells me to stop, I will worship Him for what He will do.

As we were singing and focusing on God, He gave me this image; put this image in my mind. It was of Him taking out my heart and replacing it with a fresh one — a new, vibrant, strong bright red one. And then He breathed into me, not just over me or on me, but into me. Like CPR. New heart for new breath — or new breath for new heart — like new a wineskin for new wine.

I saw so clearly in that moment that, now, every breath I breathe is from Him. They all come from that one breath He breathed into and over me.

He held me tight in His arms for a while, like a mother holds her crying, hurting toddler. Like my mom always held me when I was crying and hurting. And as if to really drive His love-point home, the band then led us in singing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," one of my mom's favorite hymns. I couldn't even sing; just stood there and wept. This time not out of missing my mom, though. This time I cried because I felt His love so profoundly – and my mom's love so clearly too. It was as if my mom was standing there holding me tight, caressing me the way she would and whispering that it's all going to be okay. Only I knew it wasn't my mom. It was God.

Then He looked me in the eyes and made it clear to me that I don't stop Him from doing anything He wants to do (I so often fear I've thwarted God's will or desires because of my own failings). He made it so very powerfully clear that I cannot stop Him, thwart Him, or keep His love or His will from invading my life and accomplishing His dreams for me (Romans 8 has been one of His constant words to me the last couple of weeks).

I believe God promises healing, recovery, wholeness. I also believe that God has a job where I can be of service and blessing to someone. But so often that belief gets buried under an avalanche of fear and doubt, worry and waffling. Perhaps the promises don't apply to me… perhaps there's some mark I've got to hit first and maybe I didn't jump high enough, believe hard enough, pray long enough, do enough. I waffle. I doubt. I fear that I'm not good enough.

But last night… I was never more convinced of His promises and His desires, to the core of my being, than I was last night, standing in the Barn before God's Throne, singing and crying out to Him.

One of the worship singers talked about fear; about how God may have us out on a ledge, feet half off hanging out into the air, and the fear we feel when we stare out into that nothingness. Lord do I know that fear! Absolute terror is what I've felt for months now –nearly half a year!

But this worship singer-leader said to us, "whatever it is He's asking you to do, where ever it is He's got you dangling your feet and staring out into the depths. Just step into it. Step off the ledge and into His will, into His arms, into the dark. Just step off."

So this is me stepping off the ledge, into the unknown, into His arms. Believing God for healing and wholeness. Believing God for recovery and redemption of all my crap. Believing God for a job, a place of service with my name on it. And worshiping Him for what He is going to do.

A popular devotional book begins, "It's not about you." The first time I read that sentence I nearly threw the book across the room. Who is this Rick Warren guy to say such a thing?? Doesn't he know that life is, has always been, and will forever be about me?? The nerve of some people…

Seriously, I don't think we ever really outgrow our child-size egocentricity; that view that the world revolves around us, that everything that happens to us is somehow because of us. That it happens because of what we did, or didn't do, what we said or didn't say, or because we were good, or because we are bad. It's always about us. About me.

If I'm successful, it's because I worked hard. If I'm not, its because I'm lazy; regardless of the fact that I've put in the same amount of effort into each endeavor. If I'm healthy, it's because of my healthy choices in life. If I get sick, it's because I did something wrong, or, more insidiously, because I am inherently bad, or because God is mad at me or doesn't love me as much as that healthy person over there.

When I was laid off it was very hard to not take it personally, even though I had long before reconciled that I was the expendable one in our little department. My job was superfluous; "value add" to the rest of the team, but definitely nonessential. Since I first got the job I knew that I was the most expendable, and would be the first to go in a downsizing. Still, it stung like hell and felt incredibly personal; like it was all about me, not about what was best for the department in light of the circumstances. It was very difficult in that moment (and even since) to remember that most of what happens in life, most decisions people make, have little-to-nothing to do with me.

Most of my life I have railed against the notion that what God allows to happen (or does to me, depending on my mood at the moment) is not about me. So convinced am I that it is about me, that the first thoughts in my head whenever anything befalls me are, why is this happening to me?? and What did I do this time??

As a child I lacked the ability to think in the abstract, to reason out that there may be motives and issues and circumstances I cannot see. Everything is concrete and simple to a child; what they can see in front of them at the time is all that exists. Consequently, we all as children internalize everything that happens as somehow being about us and because of us.

As an adult I have the ability to think in the abstract, but tend to lack the will to look beyond the concrete of me into the shadows of the mysterious and invisible.

Tonight, however, I take comfort in complexity and transcendence. I'm feeling pretty battered, unwanted, undesirable, disposable. Rejection letters, polite though they may be, still leave scars, even when they come from strangers at nebulous HR offices. When they come from mentors…. whew! That is even more painful.

But if it's true, if it's not about me, if all that's going on in my life right now has its roots, causes, and reasons in abstract motives, issues and circumstances that have little-to-nothing to do with me — save their impact on my life — well then maybe I don't have to take all this so personally. Even if it is ten or even twenty percent about me, that still leaves eighty to ninety percent — a clear majority — that's not about me. It's about someone else. That suddenly feels so incredibly freeing to me now.

It says that I'm only one piece in a huge puzzle, one thread in a vast tapestry that my Papa is weaving. I don't have to make sense all by myself. I don't have to complete the picture all on my own. I don't have to be the center of all the universe's activity, or the blame of all the chaos. Whatever happens isn't because of me, or about me, and may not even be for me.

I'm not the Source or Purpose of Life. Therefore, I don't bear the weight of the whole thing; I'm just one stone within it.

Welcome to the living Stone, the source of life. The workmen took one
look and threw it out; God set it in the place of honor. Present
yourselves as building stones for the construction of a sanctuary
vibrant with life, in which you'll serve as holy priests offering
Christ-approved lives up to God. – 1 Peter 2:4-8 (The Message)

I’m allowing fear and depression convince me the water is just too high, that I cannot go deep because I cannot handle it. I’ve let them convince me I am in the deep end and I’m drowning, so I just can’t risk going any deeper.

But really, I’m just laying on the floor. If I will even just sit up I’ll be okay.

“You can’t worship two gods at once. Loving one god, you’ll end up hating
the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other. You can’t
worship God and Money both.

 “If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you
don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the
clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life
than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance
than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and
unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of
God. And you count far more to him than birds.

 “Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much
as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it
makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk
out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or
shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten
best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.

 “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in
you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to
relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

 “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get
worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you
deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes” Matt 6:22-34 The Message

Jesus realized at once that healing power had gone out from him, so he turned around in the crowd and asked,“Who touched my robe?”

His disciples said to him, “Look at this crowd pressing around you. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’”

But he kept on looking around to see who had done it.

Then the frightened woman, trembling at the realization of what had
happened to her, came and fell to her knees in front of him and told
him what she had done.

And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” — vs 25 – 34

There’s a saying: “act your way into feeling.” For the longest time I didn’t understand that phrase. I thought it encouraged deceit. Over the last year I’ve begun to truly apprehend what it means; I think I get it now.

I may not always feel forgiven; I may not always feel free from shame. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am. I touched the hem of His garment and I have been made whole. That is the Truth that God speaks. I am free. So in those times that the feeling isn’t there, when my emotions belie the Truth of who God says I am, I still need to act “as if” — as if I felt it, as if I am convinced in the depths of my soul it is True. Because the fact is, it is.

I can choose whose voice I listen to; I can choose what I will believe. I never knew that before this year. I don’t have to remain covered, buried, in the shame that has so enveloped me all my life just because I feel shame at this moment. I can choose to believe something different; choose to do something different.

So today I am. Right now I will. I will believe the Truth even though I don’t feel it. I will act my way into feeling.

These Nicole C. Mullins songs have been on my iPod since I got back
from Women of Faith last month. God used them to speak His love and infinite grace to me. They truly tell the story of my life; my shame-filled yet blessed-beyond-measure Life. And God continues to use them as reminders of the Truth of who I am in His eyes; and encourage me to keep acting my way into feeling. I thought I’d pass them along to you today, in case you need encouragement too.

One Touch

Nicole C. Mullen – One Touch from 2nafish on GodTube.

I Know My Redeemer Lives 

Call On Jesus

So [Jesus] replied to the messengers, "Go back and report to John what you
have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who
have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."
—Luke 7:22-23.

Is God enough? Is He enough for me regardless of what circumstances I find myself in, what tragedies befall me, what "fate" awaits me in the future?

I've been having panic attacks. Whether they are more physiological than emotional, I cannot say. I'm more prone to them than the average person — my autonomic nervous system is just a little out of whack, so that fight or flight instinct can kick into high gear for no reason. Add stress to the mix and its pretty much a sure bet it'll misfire. —-However, emotions could also be playing a role in this current round…. it's just too hard to tell at the moment.

The nights are the worst. That seems to be when every little terrible fear in my mind comes out to play, dancing in the firelight and casting huge shadows against the walls of my mind. They look like giants ready to swallow me. The later the hour gets, the more they dance, and the larger they look. And I become too terrified to sleep, I cannot focus on anything but their huge shadows dancing all around me. I once had a way to anesthetize myself so I didn't feel the fear of the shadows but I've let go of those old patterns and now must face the Night Monsters alone. It's hard. I'm a coward at heart; I'd rather run from what scares me than face it and shout it down.

God still comes to me when I cry out in fear, despite my struggle knowing who He really is right now. I still experience Him as I have so many times before; seeing/sensing Him — sitting beside me, loving on me, gently swiping His thumb over my forehead, kissing my cheek — and hearing His voice whispering His love to me. Yet I'm so afraid now that whatever I'm seeing and hearing is just my imagination, that I'm just making it up, that I struggle to let myself be comforted by Him. 

Isn't that crazy? I struggle to believe in the God I've been experiencing since a young child — the head-god I talked of earlier — yet I don't have any problem accepting the scary shadows on the wall as completely real. No doubts about nefarious shadows, huge doubts about a God who is so gentle and loving. Insanity.

Is God enough?

I love the story of John the Baptist from Luke 7 because John doubts too. This man, of whom Jesus later says, "I
tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than
John…" (verse 28), this man who has been set apart by God, heard directly
from God all his adult life, and seen Jesus do miraculous things, doubts Jesus; doubts His identity as the Messiah, the rescuer of his people.

And Jesus doesn't get mad. He doesn't sigh heavily and dramatically
proclaim, 'oh ye of little faith.' Nor does He scold, or reprimand, or
rebuke, or cut off contact. He just answers John; he says, "Yep. I still am the One.
…. no, I'm not coming for you; I'm not rescuing you. And yes, I'm still the One."

I remember first being made aware of Jesus' response to John in Erwin's book, The Barbarian Way. Erwin's main point was that last sentence: "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."  In Barbarian he points out
that God didn't rescue John from prison, or his fate: being beheaded by
Herod (Matthew 14:1-12). If God didn't rescue John, He may very well not rescue us from our own prisons — joblessness, poverty, homelessness, illness, paralysis, death… pick the struggle of your nightmares. He may not rescue you from it.

It is in that truth that my fears lie. It is also in that truth that lies grab hold of me and keep me trapped in that frightening cave with the dancing shadows.

Here's the thing:

I may not have bought the “Prosperity” Gospel hook, line, and
sinker, but I definitely took the bait and ran with it. I took the part
that says, “if you do _____, God will give you what you want,” bought it and built my life around it.

I don’t
want a big house, or the really fancy cars, I just want safety, and
security, and significance. And I have been chasing these dogs —
desperately trying to jump through all my heart-god’s unseen, unknown hoops in
the process — since I was very small. But God does not promise these things.

He doesn’t promise safety. He doesn’t promise security — except in the fact that we are His and no one can pluck us out of His hand — He doesn’t even promise us a life of significance. So far as I have found, I only see three things He promises us. (1) He will be with us always (Matt 28:20), and (2) we will receive mercy and (3) find grace to help us in our time of need (Hebrews 4:15-16). Everything else is something we can hope for, but He may not choose to give them to us. We know we have Him. Beyond that, we have no idea.

But is God enough?

I have moments of clarity, moments of peace, moments spent wrapped in
unbelievably loving and gentle unseen arms, and in those moments, He is enough. But those powerful, amazing moments seem to be fleeting compared to the times the world comes crashing back in with all its proclamations of doom and what I must have to survive the bleak future ahead, and who I must be to be accepted, to be significant.

But there’s another point that Erwin had in Barbarian Way. It’s a point
I was reminded of today, through another person: God will still be with us in our prisons, in
our deserts, in our joblessness, homelessness, poverty, illness,
paralysis, death; in our nightmares God is still with us and He is still God. He will provide all we need to get through — strength, courage,
bread, encouragement… whatever we need in that moment, God’s grace
will provide so that we can get through it. Together. With God we live.

And, something else I learned today. For the first time I learned what it  means to “glorify God;” to truly bring glory to Him. It is in those nightmare times of our lives, as we cry out even in our pain that God is enough and we will still love Him, still believe in Him, it is in those times that He is most glorified. When we have nothing, when we are in great pain, when we are living our nightmares and yet are still willing to believe that He is enough, He is most glorified.

But is God enough for me?

Here’s the other thing. I’m selfish. I want what I want when I want it and how I want it. I want life on my terms; and I seem to think I know what’s best for me. When God doesn’t come through with what I think is best I decide He’s failed me – or I’ve failed Him so He’s chosen not to act; it’s that whole heart-god thing again… And ultimately I decide He’s not enough; I need more. I need God and…. something else. Pick your “something else.” I seem to pick something different every time. Probably because the last “something else” didn’t work, so I try a new one.

Eight years ago this very month, God asked me this same question: “Am I enough for you? If this is as good as it gets, if this is all there is to life, will you be satisfied with only Me?”

At that time I told Him He wasn’t and I couldn’t, but that I was willing to try; I was open to life with Him alone. “But,” I said, “our relationship has to be The Bomb, and I mean the Absolute Bomb — it has to rock the house! — or I will never survive.”

It seemed as if He heard — and maybe even smiled? — but He didn’t say anything more.

There have been quite a few times since that day that I’ve thought about that conversation, often realizing He has been continually reshaping our relationship, making it more and more The Bomb; deepening it, stretching it wider, growing it, transforming it…. Today was no exception. If my head god, the god of my experiences, really is the True God — and my dearest hope is that he is — than He really has been about proving He can be enough. ‘Cause our relationship rocks the house.

So why am I still so afraid of the dancing shadows on the wall?

I often am curious what impressions first-time visitors to my site have, so sometimes I follow the link they did to my site just to see what they saw. The last post I put under that category was from January 2006, about a little quiz on theological worldviews. At that time I scored 82% as an Emergent/Post Modern. But Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan, was a very close second. So I decided to retake the quiz and see if much had changed. It has, and you can see the results below.

There is still much in the first quiz results with which I agree. I still believe that the Gospel is spread "virally" through relationship more than through "evangelization" and revivals. And I still feel alienated from some older forms of church; chiefly the forms that conjure images of the 40s and 50s, where women have a limited role, men dominate, doctrine and tradition prevail over spirituality and Truth, and where the preaching is either overly dramatic (hellfire/damnation stuff) or overly monotone (and usually focused on exegesis alone) and always in that preacher cadence (you know the one I mean; I swear, they must have a class in seminary just for developing that). I have an allergy to such churches even today.

However, I now find myself with some different priorities. I still am convinced that we followers of Christ have the secret to Abundant Life, and that it is imperative that we share it with everyone who will listen to us. But I find that the essence of what I am compelled to share, and the thing that compels me, is the unbelievable, unfailing love and grace of God. That grace is, to me, preeminent in this thing called Life. It covers us long before we even recognize God’s whispers of love or His constant activity in and around us. It is what covers our sin, drives us to our knees in sorrow and repentance, and breathes fresh Life in us to try again. God’s Grace is what fuels and drives our personal holiness; without it I am convinced we could not be holy; without it we cannot give grace to others when they fail or hurt us.

I’m not theologically or doctrinally trained so I cannot speak much to those issues — the extent of my knowledge comes a little from my dad’s  old Barclay commentaries and my own Matthew Henry commentaries, and a lot from the various teachings of several pastors and teachers (such as Beth Moore, Erwin, Matt Chandler, and Rob Bell) who resonate with my spirit  and my own and others’ experiences with God Himself. But what little I have read on John Wesley’s teachings and focus resonate within my spirit. It is much of what I have come to believe myself. "Methodism" (ie the Methodist church) of today not so much (at least what I know of it), but what I’ve seen of what Wesley said back then I like.

I’m interested in reading more on Wesley’s teachings but I don’t know where to look. So if any of you seminary trained (or just knowledgeable) people out there can recommend books I could read on Wesley’s teachings and writings, please let me know.

I’m just sayin’…

I have to admit, I kinda got caught up in all the excitement, even though I wasn’t emotionally invested in any of the results. As a conservative in liberal California, I got used to my vote getting canceled out by my own big sister and all my friends’ votes. So I vote, but I don’t expect much. It seems I moved into the most liberal county in Tennessee, so my votes still got canceled by someone (thanks for making me feel right at home, Davidson County).

The excitement I felt wasn’t about who or what "won" or "lost". It was about feeling the winds of change, even if its just a breeze, blowing through the nation. I think a change in congressional leadership will be good for the country, and I’m pretty confident the Dems won’t completely break America. Even if they do, we will be fine. We are a nation founded and expanded by adventurers and frontiersmen and women. The blood of Davey Crockett still flows through my veins, even if its quite diluted by generations. But that blood is joined by Native American blood, Revolutionary blood — and the blood of Jesus Christ. — Oh holy cow! Don’t get all "Da Vinci Code" on me. I’m speaking metaphorically now.

Look, we can do this. We can overcome whatever adversity comes our way. We’re just not so used to adversity these days, so we whine a lot. And we try to control everything, even when it’s obvious we cannot control anything. I am saddened by the passage of Amendment 1, but what can you do? Jesus’ Church is just a little too locked up in fear right now; so afraid of losing losing their own faith that cannot see they’ve already lost their way. Jesus would never had approved Amendment 1, but we His people are so much less then He. We are so imperfect. I am sad, but I am also excited. As Joseph told his brothers, "What you meant for evil, God meant for good." The enemy of our souls is laughing loud and hard over the passage of this amendment, for the pallor is casts over God’s people who are, sadly, so closely associated with its passage. But God will have the last laugh.

Not because He is legalistic and loves this amendment. I believe with my whole core that it grieves Him terribly. God will have the last laugh because He will use those who are truly following Him to overcome the damage of this law through grace and love. What an opportunity Jesus’ followers have now to throw open their door, throw open their lives, throw out their arms in wide loving embraces to those most hurt and feeling betrayed, those most angered, by this amendment.

The deed is done, but God is never finished working. He will continue working out His dreams and desires in and through those who love Him passionately, who beg Him to let them in on what He’s doing, let them be a part of it; a part of creating the future.

And that’s me. I beg Him daily to let me be a part of what He’s doing in the lives of every person around me. And I love Him passionately.

Like sweet rain on a summer day, I smell the winds of change, and it excites me. Can you smell it? Let’s create the future. Together with God.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. — 1 Peter 1:3-9

It was as natural as breathing. I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just started talking, so grateful that I wasn’t alone on this journey.

I was driving down to Murfreesboro yesterday to check out a car or two. The lot was closed, but I wanted to see the vehicles anyway. No sales people bugging me is the best way to shop, in my opinion. My friend and co-worker, Natalie, is loaning me her Jeep. Since her husband is out of town for the week, she can drive the Honda and the Jeep would have just sat at their home or at the airport. Instead, I get to put some more miles on it.

I was in the middle of voicing my gratitude at not having to go this journey alone when it hit me, hard. I am alone in this car. No one is here with me. What if… what if God doesn’t really exist? What if all that stuff Pastor Rick spoke of this morning — all the stuff "The Da Vinci Code" says about Jesus, and about Christianity being built on lies — what if its all true? And no one is really here with me, listening to me wax all grateful for their presence? What if the truth is, I’m all alone, period?

It came so hard, so fast, and felt so real I literally felt dizzy. Suddenly the warm, surrounded feeling I had was gone, replaced by cold stark aloneness.

I took a sip of my nearly full Chai Cream frappuccino hoping to buy my mind a little time to process this new reality. But it didn’t bring the satisfaction it usually does. It only made me feel colder. A very unsettling thing in a soft-top Wrangler on a hot day. What the heck was going on?

I thought I was long past the doubting-God thing. He’d made His presence so real and powerful over the last few years. Times when I wanted to die just to shut up the pain in my soul, He was there. Right beside me. Sitting, or kneeling, holding my hand, caressing my face. I knew He was there. I could feel it with every fiber of my being. Even though I couldn’t see Him. I thought I could never doubt His reality again.

Yet here I was. Alone. Talking to… myself? Had He ever existed? Had He ever been there with me? Even with my past experiences to draw on, I had nothing. The overwhelming reality of being Alone in that Jeep, being Alone in my life crashed in on me like a crash of Rhinos at 30 miles an hour. And I was flattened by it like so much brush.

Then I heard a whisper. "What if I’m not real?"

What if God isn’t real? What does that mean for my life? As I thought through this overarching question, and all the other ones rising from deep within me — I didn’t even realize I was listening that closely to what Rick was saying, and yet somehow all I could remember hearing were the questions he said the book raised — I realized I could only come to one conclusion.

If God isn’t real, I’m insane.

I’ve heard voices that aren’t my own. I’ve responded to one of those voices, made life-altering decisions based that voice and made radical choices in who I will become. I’ve based my character and my hopes of becoming more than I am on what this voice says. Most importantly, I’ve started believing who this voice says I am — rather than who my own heart and eyes say I am every time I look in the mirror, observe my behavior or listen to my own thoughts.

If God doesn’t exist, I’m hearing voices. And that means I’m insane and need to be locked up in a padded room with a pretty little white jacket as my main attire.

Speaking this realization into the air didn’t have the effect a happily-ever-after story would have it. I was still Alone.

So I went back over everything again. And I realized something was missing in the first draft of my answer. The Truth is, I could very well be insane.

The Truth is, I choose to believe when my senses fail me. I choose to believe God is real, even though I cannot see Him or touch Him or sometimes even feel Him with my spirit. The Truth is, I choose to believe God is actively, personally, intimately involved in my life. I choose to believe He speaks to me, moves me in the direction that is best for me and ensures the best for me.

The Truth is, all we can truly know is what Is right now. The rest we have to believe. We cannot know our past, because it’s gone and all that’s left is subjective reflection. We cannot know the future, because it hasn’t happened yet and all we have is our imagination. All we can do with the past and the future is believe. Believe what has happened really happened the way we remember — or were told. Believe what will be will really be the way we imagine. But today. The right now of this moment. That, I can know. But only for this moment, then it too passes into the realm of believing.

In that moment yesterday I made a choice. One that I realize now I will have to make time and again. Until I die. I chose to believe. To believe my subjective reflections of the past, believe the stories I’ve been told about God and all that I’ve read in the Bible. I didn’t feel it. I didn’t have an emotional, experiential moment of revelation — which is extremely disconcerting to this very post-modern girl. I crave those emotional experiences, those powerful times of feeling God’s intimate presence! But, alas. None came. Still, I chose to believe.

My mind wandered a bit after making my declaration of belief. I was momentarily distracted by traffic and stupid drivers. Before I realized it, The Voice was back. Not the one that brought doubt, but the One that brought a familiar intimacy. He recommended getting over one lane, as the freeway entrance was coming up and reminded me that the far right lane turned into the on-ramp to 1-24, pointing it out to me as we approached.

And just like that, I was no longer Alone. If I ever truly had been.

In this I greatly rejoice, though now for a little while I may have to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that my faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

"Yes I remember the world I lived in. Every detail. And what I remember most is how afraid I was. What a waste! You see, to live in fear is not to live at all. "