Unbeliever

I've come to realize of late that, for the most part, I'm pretty bad at this whole "belief" thing.  That sounds so nonchalant; the statement itself is strikingly symptomatic of my problem.  My ability to distance myself from that problem, not just here but far more importantly in my daily life, IS the problem...if that makes any sense?

I've started this badly - let me clarify: across the board, in the midst of wide and varying circumstances, I all too often make poor choices.   Not intentionally, of course, nor exclusively.  And not, as you might fear, in the midst of the "big" issues.  I'm not talking about the monumentally "obvious" choices that might come up in any person's life - to be faithful to my wife, to tithe, to be committed to my family or my job - but its the smaller, daily questions that seem to illumine my, well, somewhat shallow and horribly flimsy personal ethics.

There is a book called, "The Shack," that everyone should read.  It is a great picture of a God who is really interested, really involved, really pulling for His people, individually.  A friend of mine, one whom I thought would love this story, remarked that she didn't think it was good for people to read because she was afraid it would "get their hopes up."  I'm synopsizing, of course, but the idea appears to be that reading a book like The Shack is dangerous because it sets an expectation that God might actually be involved...and clearly we shouldn't, well, expect that?  Isn't that troubling?  Colossally, I mean? 

And yet that same issue of expectations seems to be at the heart of my problem: belief. 

Her warning is just more obvious somehow - more public then my own.

You see nobody but me recognizes my doubt when I choose to be dismissive rather than embracing of a friend in need.  Nobody but me knows when I watch a skirt walking slowly away or click one time more than I should.  Nobody but me knows the times I turn right when I should have turned left or the time I thought ill of my neighbor or...

Wait.  "Nobody but me?"  Were you with me there, just for a moment?  Do you see how pervasive that is?  Do you see how easily, in the moment, simply by word choice, I find myself living in the land of no expectations!?  Of no real belief?  And now, just as quickly, my only attempt at evoking a God who cares is in the context of a God who stands ready and able to judge me deficient.  No wonder I struggle with belief!  No wonder the man's plea to Christ: "I believe! Lord, help my unbelief!"  Heal my unbelief.  Heal me.

What does that look like?

For one, it isn't about God acting as a hall monitor.  At least I don't think it is.  I try to envision how people experience success, how they are led into success, in other circumstance.  In the armed forces it does begin with a "tearing down" of sorts - a breaking of bad habits and a filling of new.  Woven into that is the idea that obedience is requied because it serves the greater good.  To doubt or faulter is to betray the larger plans of one's superiors.  But is an enlisted man's allegiance really just to his orders? Or is the dutiful obedience to orders a living testament to his belief? 

Here's a different circumstance, closer to (my) home.  In sales I have been managed by those who feel compelled to bury themselves in every detail of my efforts...and I have been managed by those who set a high mark, made themselves available, and set expectations that the "little things" are being addressed in service to the goal.  As a manager I tend far more to the latter (with some necessary granularity that I hope still points ahead).  Some might even call this "leadership."

So how does this come back to my belief problem.  Or, more important, the help for my unbelief? 

1) My problem is important - the small things I let slip are not horrible or dire, but they point to a deeper disbelief...the belief that God's plan isn't worth my obedience.  So while repentance might be called for on any one issue, the greater need is to repent my lack of faith and be healed.

2) Healing is dangerous.  It requires that I ask God to show me the real source of my faltering - the real depth of my distrust, rather than the effects of it.  These wounds run deep and are painful to operate on.

3) I need, more than anything else, to believe in a higher calling, the upward call of Christ.  I need to believe in "The Big Idea" and begin to hope for some way that I figure into it.  That belief, that direction on which I can focus; that hope and, yes, expectation that God is up to something and it matters what I do, will begin to be reflected in the smaller choices I make.  Because they matter...to something and Someone.

4) God wants to lend me His eyes to see.  He put it in His book.  He raises up people around me who act as guides...even as He raises me up to act as a guide for others.

One opportunity to gain ground on God's vision in my life, His Calling, is a retreat coming up this January at Wintergreen Resort.  Gary Barkalow (The Noble Heart) will spend the weekend orienting men toward God's unique call in their lives - in pursuit of their glory in Him.  I encourage you to find out more about the event and even register to join me there by visiting http://www.piercing-the-veil.com/.