Thanks for all the good wishes and helpful advice in
relation to my last post! I've been making some good progress in financial
stewardship, in large part thanks to your suggestions. Now that I've had some time to focus on that particular
area, I felt like I was ready to tackle a new Faith and Not Fear Adventure, and
began to brainstorm about what was most needed in my life, which project to
tackle next.
But then some private, difficult events fell on me like a
bomb these past two months. Suddenly, looking at a neat little on-a-page
project is not the way I've needed to exercise faith over fear. It's been in
the real-life, looming-in-your-face crap. It's been in the crises of faith and
family and marriage, in the daily slog of pulling your day together when you
feel like you're falling to pieces, and in the temptation to curl up under a
blanket for the rest of the winter and wait all the problems out. So for February and March, instead of sharing a specific faith
and not fear adventure, I'd like to share what I'm learning from the private
faith battles I've had.
I have learned that I can't hold Christ at arm's distance,
asking him to come in when I want help and then to step back when I'm not
feeling up to trying any more. It's all or nothing - that is, it must all be
done in His way, or it's all for naught. I have discovered (and I don't know
how I didn't know this about myself) that I actually have fear and anxiety over
the fact that God is immanent in my life. I am scared of the trials He's
trusting me with, and I'm having trouble trusting Him - not that I don't
believe He loves me or that He wants what's good for me, but trusting that He
will let me reach a place of peace and happiness overall in this life. I
KNOW my trials are good for me - but is there ever a chance to just be happy
without having to grow so painfully all the time? I often don't feel too sure,
and exercising faith in lasting earthly happiness takes some work sometimes.
And although that knowledge of God's immanence has scared
me, I'm learning that it doesn't have to. What I DO know is that Heavenly
Father and Christ know me. They love me. Heavenly Father knows EACH one of us,
and Christ is there to help EACH one of us. And God is not judging us the way I
so often think He is. I pull away because it's too hard, or it's too much, or
I'm not up to the challenge (or I don't want a challenge at all, thank you very
much!), or I'm scared of failure; but Heavenly Father doesn't want us to feel
like failures. He loves us. He wants the best for us. That's why He sent His
Son. I am learning that He looks at us not as rebellious teenagers who need to
be pulled back in line, but as babies learning to walk and falling over and
toddling and falling again.
A good friend sent me one of the most inspiring LDS talks on
grace I've heard. It has changed the way I think about God's grace, and has
truly helped me rethink how I think about God's love and acceptance, and about
the motivations behind the ways I try to live God's law in my life. Please, if
you are going through a hard time, watch it. If you aren't, watch it anyway.
Please watch it! Brad Wilcox's "His Grace Is Sufficient"
http://speeches.byu.edu/?act=viewitem&id=1966&view=2#.USwimidOtcM.facebook
I have been that girl he talks about, who views the
Atonement in a linear way -- a certain distance of the line belonging to me,
and Christ making up the rest. I don't know if I've ever realized THAT'S NOT
HOW IT WORKS. It's true that by grace we are saved after all we can do, but
that does not mean "all we can do" fills some kind of gap that Christ
cannot or does not. Listen to the part
about the piano lesson analogy to see what I mean.
I have learned that I need a new kind of faith in God, to
not just love Him but to overcome my fear of Him in order to really love Him. I am building faith
that His ways are higher than mine. I am learning that the Atonement is not as
sin-based as I tend to view it; but that it is change-based. I always knew
that, but now I am experiencing it through a new lens that reaffirms the truth
of that to me.
I'm learning the truth of this analogy by C.S. Lewis:
"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to
rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He
is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you
knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently
He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not
seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He
is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out
a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making
courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but
He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself."
How glorious! And maybe terrifying. And that's where faith
and not fear comes into play.
