One Of Those Days

So it is going to be one of those days. You know the days where all the reality that you have been shoving aside in order to keep functioning comes rushing past the dam you have so carefully constructed in your mind and heart? Yeah, one of those days.

Bills have come crashing in, people you thought you could count on fail you, and even the stupid computer won’t let me get through a single blog post without wanting to update despite the fact I have limited time to get this done. Oh, the agony of being me! Excuse me while I go rail against the world for a bit, while I lose sight of all the miraculous things that have happened over the past few weeks and months, while I forget all the monsters slain and moldering because there is a fresh wave on the horizon, and I don’t feel like picking up my sword one more time. Instead, I think I will look for a rock to climb under, if I can find one big enough and one not threatening to topple over and crush me.

On days like this I used to tell people that I should have stayed in bed, but with my luck the ceiling fan would fall on me. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when one day the ceiling fan did, in fact, fall. Thankfully, it happened on day I did get out of bed so the damage was limited to a cloud of dust that covered my room. (And by the way, just to be honest, that “thankfully” was obligatory rather than heartfelt. I was rather irritated about the whole affair.)

I try to have the proper attitude. I really do. I suppose I must succeed on some level because people are always telling me how positive and encouraging I am. You’re welcome, glad to help, and that is wonderful. And I do mean it. I want to be an encourager. I make very intentional and carefully weighed decisions about what I say and what I share because encouraging one another is something I think we should all be actively striving to do. How could I expect less of myself than I would of others? So I put effort into being positive.

But sometimes, if we aren’t careful, that turns into hypocrisy. We become those people whose lives seem to scream, “Look at me! See me! I have it all together, why don’t you?” When the truth of the matter is they are falling apart inside and too scared to admit that today they just aren’t feeling it. Today, they just want the freedom to be down and frustrated with this life.

So today, I am frustrated. I am down. I am worn out and done in. Life is too big to be whooped, and I am the one taking a beating. And that is okay.

Notice that I didn’t say it is fun. I didn’t start doing a hallelujah dance or brush it off as inconsequential. My emotions matter. They have a purpose and value. God did not give them to me and then expect me to deny that they are real. He didn’t tell me that path to holiness is in denial of anything that isn’t all rainbow fuzzies and unicorn farts, and he didn’t say that I am sinful to acknowledging how I feel. And most importantly, he didn’t say that I was being unfaithful in feeling this way.

In an age of pop preachers and carefully coiffed TV evangelists who make their living with the promise of happiness, too many of us have started thinking that feeling anything other than a desire to give a gleaming smile to the world is nothing short of sin. It’s time that we get it straight – our sadness and frustration is not a betrayal of God, it is a demonstration of the fact that their shallow theology just won’t cut it in the real world.

But, but, but, we should rejoice in the Lord always! That is what it says in the Bible! You sow happiness and joy so that you can reap happiness and joy! Change your stinking thinking and your emotions will fall into line – oh, the protests I can hear as I type!

I have but one thing to say to all of that: “Jesus wept.”

Now, tell me this, just how sinful was he being in that moment? Be very careful in how you answer that lest you be guilty of blaspheme.

We could dive deeper and read some of his biting remarks to the Pharisees and his disciples. We could stop and consider the Garden of Gethsemane. We could consider Isaiah 53:3.

He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. 

Emotions, even the big bad ugly ones, are not evil. They are not sinful. They just are. You don’t get to legislate them, and you don’t get to turn them off by becoming some spiritual creature who is above such things. Jesus didn’t, why do we think that we should have it better than him? To think such a thing is arrogance, and that is one emotion that the Bible does call sin.

So you own them. You look them in the eye, and see them for what they are. They are real. They are powerful, and they are tools for understanding ourselves and this world we inhabit. They do not define us, they do not get to rule us, but that does not mean they are without value or purpose. Acknowledging how we feel is the first step to authenticity and is an act of integrity and strength. When we gather them all up, take them to Father, and declare the truth of our experience, we are walking in faith and exhibiting hope in the knowledge that he is greater than anything that has hurt our hearts, but we cannot give to Father what we do not own.

For me, today stinks. I don’t want to feel all of this, and I don’t want to deal with all the things that are frustrating me. I just don’t, and that is the truth as plainly as I know how to put it short of a few colorful metaphors. Eventually, I will get past it. I will be able to remember some of the greater truths of my life, and I will find the will to celebrate the good things Father has given me. I will be able to rest in the hope of his promises to me, but not right now. Not in this moment, because it would be a lie and a denial of how he created me. So I will throw my little pity party, I’ll invite Father over and serve him a cup of coffee if he likes, and whine a bit. He will listen, and he won’t patronize or toss Scripture at me. He will acknowledge my pain as valid, and invite me to give it all to him. And in that moment, I will begin to feel the joy of anticipation as I wonder what grand and marvelous thing he will create from my painful honesty.

When I Am Just Not Feeling It

There are few things harder than acting like a Christian when you don’t feel very Christian. Now, I am not for sure exactly what a real Christian is supposed to feel like, but I always imagined it was somewhere between cotton candy and bunny fur. And truthfully, I feel more like a porcupine and electric fence sometimes.

I think many people would be surprised at how seldom I feel Christian. Usually I am so busy trying to act Christian that feeling anything other than frustration would be miraculous. I know there must be someone out there who manages to feel Christian. I mean I have always assumed that those people at church who always greet you with a big smile and a “God bless you” must feel Christian, at least on Sunday mornings.

I just don’t know how this feeling of being occurs. I have tried, but so far nothing has really worked. I don’t know if just didn’t get the secret decoder ring, I missed that particular sermon, or no one hit me with the right amount of fairy dust. I have been prayed over, anointed, and once pastor tried to shove me to the floor – but I was between him and the doughnuts. I mean if someone were to ask me how I felt right now, I would have to say I am vaguely grumpy and rather gloomy. Definitely not feeling Christian.

We all know that true Christians, or at least mature Christians, don’t have bad days. They smile all the time. They know the answer to the world’s problems and they would rather be caught without their underwear than without the right Bible verse for the occasion. They have sparkling smiles, well mannered children, perfectly groomed spouses, and they breathe in peace and exhale joy. They look forward to their turn in the church nursery, and they can whip out a casserole for the church potluck faster than I can sneeze. And I know that they act this way because they can feel just how Christian they are. They charming, gracious, and we all try not to hate them. Or maybe that’s just me, because the more I am around these people the less Christian I feel.

You see, I have bad days and a messy house. My car is never clean and my kids fight. I have a hard time remembering my phone number, let alone chapter and verse for anything. I can’t cook and when my car breaks down I don’t respond with a “thank you, Jesus.” I can be mean, jealous, and petty. I love a good fight and will sometimes start an argument just to have one. Sometimes I enjoy scowling at the world and I am a bit of a snob. I have kicked my dog and yelled at God when things haven’t gone my way. I don’t always feel Christian, so I don’t always act Christian.

The good news is that being a Christian isn’t based on my feelings. It is even based on my performance. It is something that goes beyond what I get right and what I do wrong. Being a Christian is not found in someone else’s perception of who and what I should be, or what they think I should be doing. Being a Christian is the result of a relationship, one that affects how I behave and changes who I am, but I don’t always feel it like I think I should feel it.

Sure I want to do better, but not because it makes me any more or less Christian. I want to be better because I want to the world to see the how knowing God has changed me. I want to please him in my deeds and words, even my emotions, but I have to wonder if we have gotten confused about the process of being conformed to the image of Christ. If somewhere along the way we began to think that being holy meant that we denied our emotions and suppressed our quirks so that we could become conformed to our ideas about what a Christian should feel like.

You see, being a Christian doesn’t mean that my miraculous transformation short circuited my mind or desires. My transformation began when I understood that my mind and desires don’t always agree with where God would have me, and confronting me where I am, as who I am. It is me being honest enough to say I have a bad days and I don’t feel like loving my enemies or even my friends all the time. It is me being willing to go to him when I am grumpy and asking for help, wrestling through the gloom with him, and not hiding from him until I feel right. Because the truth is on my own I will never get it right, I will never be good enough to feel as Christian as I think a good Christian should feel all the time.

I might be able to fake it on Sunday mornings. I might even hold it together for a Sunday night service, but by Wednesday afternoon, forget it. I am right back into the mess of me. Beaten up, cast down, and overwhelmed by all the things I do that don’t measure up to whom I think a Christian should be, and all my feelings say I will never make it, that I should just give up.

So if you are like me. If you ever have a bad day and wonder why you even try when you know all you are going to do is fail, take heart. You are not alone. We all have those days, and we all feel like we are failing sometimes. The question is what you do with those feelings? Do you let them dictate who you are? Or can you let your heart find hope and strength in who God says you are? Because he loves us, even on grumpy days, sad days, and even on days we totally mess up.

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