Posted by: ImpendingDawn | July 9, 2010

Chicken pox and other troubling developments

In my last post, I commented on the fact that I would probably not have any monumental events in my life for a while… Well, I was wrong. Quite wrong.

Last weekend, I got into a quading accident. There were a bunch of us out that night, with my brother driving a dune buggy with me as the passenger, and my friend – Dylan, let’s say – driving a quad. We were all just out having a good time, when one of my friends sped ahead of us, kicking up a fair bit of dust. My brother, after shoulder-checking, decided he was going to turn around to get out of the dust. Well, that would’ve been fine and dandy, except for the fact that Dylan was about a foot away from us, hidden in the dust. He smashed into the side of the buggy, launching himself through the air like some sort of kamikaze superhero. The next thing I remember is my brother screaming at me to get out and pull the quad off Dylan, as he was trapped underneath. Dylan pulled a Hulk or something though, and managed to get the two hundred pound quad off of him and flipped right side up before I even got out of the buggy. (Adrenaline does wonders!)

Anyway, after I assured myself that everyone involved was fine, I did what I normally do in times of crisis: I shut down. I didn’t speak a word until at least a half hour later. I barely even noticed the time passing by.

Thankfully, everyone else seemed to deal with the events in a better manner than I did  – that is, they didn’t become mute zombies – and later that night we all went for a walk. Musing over the events, I made an offhand comment to Dylan, something like “Oh, God must love you.” It seemed the most natural thing in the world to say.

It struck me afterward how ridiculous that statement was, coming from me. In one of the most spiritually dry times of my life, when all I seem to want to do is run away from God, He was prominent in my conversations that night. Despite all of my issues with God, the fact remains: that accident should have been near fatal, yet it wasn’t.

Despite all logic, I still felt like a fake. A “good little Christian” spouting words of faith and trust while all I feel is doubt.

It brought to mind another recent conversation with a close friend. We talked about church and tithe and books and our mutual disdain for labels and our disappointment with the shortcomings of the “Lord’s people.” We talked about everything. Unfortunately, some of the value I should have gleaned from my time with this amazing friend was lost due to my resistance to God himself. I could talk about Him, sure, but as for actually letting Him into my heart? No.

All of this points to troubling developments within my heart. Quite honestly, I am concerned. I just wish I could regain my old easy trust and love for God.

…But, all things considered, I suppose I can be happy that I long for something to change. At least I’m not content in my doubt.

And, whether I like it or not, change is inevitable. Like chicken pox! Or something…



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