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Every time I'd try to get myself to make a new blog post in these past few months, I'd end up staring at my computer screen, frozen, unable to muster up anything to type out. I had so many things I could've written about, but every time I'd attempt writing, it'd feel so forced and so fabricated... Because it was. I had the mindset that whatever it was that I was going to write, it had to be wholly edifying... So that in the chance that my peers read it, they'd know I was doing well. Even if at that moment of my life, things weren't going well (things were horrible, really), for the sake of self preservation I'd write as though everything were rainbows and butterflies. Ergo, even writing, my once precious form of catharsis, became jaded and obstructed, all because I couldn't get real with myself.
Here is some backstory, sparknotes style. My priorities became very convoluted in these previous months. I became distracted, and deluded myself to be content with my lukewarm faith. I'd feel convicted every Sunday, feel bad about it and that was it. I knew I was breaking God's heart, and would immediately think of something else to avoid the guilt and the fact that things needed to change. I was knowingly backsliding and the momentum was picking up, and I was just kicking back and enjoying the view. In the midst of this descent, I'd have moments where I'd feel an urging to make a new blog post, and like I said initially, I'd be frozen... Unable to execute one proper sentence that didn't sound like contrived, artificial jargon.
It's true that to see if someone is walking healthily with God, you can tell by the fruit they bear. Here I was, in sin and delusion, attempting to create a spiritually uplifting post and still left dumbfounded when my brain and my fingers wouldn't cooperate. Even my own fingers were calling me out on my bull. I was never going to get honest with myself, put myself in a position of vulnerability and write about my backsliding, no. I was going to try and force a post about the amazing things I was accomplishing in life, sprinkle some sentences about the love of Jesus over all of it and hope to fool any nosy readers and more importantly, fool myself. I think I was hoping to fool myself, really. In retrospect, I wish I did post something during those months, so I could read it now and guffaw at the blatantly embellished word vomit that I managed to amalgamate.
And here I am now, getting real, and able to feel that release once more. God planted this love to write in me, and my attempt at using His gift to bear false fruit was brutally rebuffed.
I remember hearing a sermon by Francis Chan where he talked about Christians backsliding, that really impacted me. He talked about how backsliding is as if we vomited, walked away from the vomit, and then made the conscious decision to walk back into that vomit and then roll around in it... And before we knew it, we put ourselves in a position far worse than when we first started. This. Is. SO. True. I covered myself in vomit, and came to God shameful, detestable and wretched... and He STILL forgave me. The holy, sinless Creator of the universe, in His incomprehensible and uncontainable love, came down to my pitiful level and with no hesitation, absolved me of my sins. I REEKED of sin and He still ran after my heart. He embraced me despite my repugnance, and let me find my rest once more in Him. How You love me, God... I can't find the words to describe the beauty. I can't find the words WORTHY to describe Your beauty.
Thank you, Lord of all. Everything I do on this earth, I want it to glorify You. I want my words and the fruit that I bear, to match the life I lead behind closed doors. I am mute without Your wisdom and my words are barren without Your love. Forgive me Lord for falling into temptation and break my heart for how I've broken Yours so that I may know how much I have been forgiven for. I'm desperate for more of You. Always desperate for you, King Jesus. All glory to you, Amen.
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