As the sacred hymn goes, “…Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love…”
Can you still “rescue me from danger” God? I’ll be honest: I don’t really know what to say to You. Part of me wants to leave, to go find an alternate route to freedom, to acceptance, to salvation, but according to Your Word, there is no other way. “No one comes to the Father except through me,” Jesus declares.
Why is that so limiting all of a sudden? Why is that good news not good enough anymore? What happened to my faith? My passion and desire? Were the burning embers of the fit pit just for that moon-stricken night in November? Was I lying to myself? Did I rush the process, not give myself enough time to doubt, question, search for answers, find truth?
It is surprising to me—and maybe it shouldn’t be—that since my return to Christ, I have had far more questions and struggles than answers or reprieve from my intellectual and emotional demons/vices. I keep yearning for the days and results of blind faith, but those days are long behind me. Even I could not—cannot—deny that You have given me a gift—a measure of intelligence. Please, Lord, don’t misunderstand me: I’m grateful, for it allows me to engage others, and You, in a certain way and on a certain level but it seems like the older I get, and the more stressful and complicated life gets, this gift is becoming—at least in my eyes—more of a curse than a blessing. I have already had a tumultuous time accepting, actively receiving, and giving out unto others your grace. And my level of intellect did not—and does not—help my current situation.
I want to leave You.
That’s a scary place to be.
“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love…” And what is it that keeps me from taking that frightful step back out into the spiritual wasteland of abhorrent nothingness? “Even while I was yet a sinner, Christ died for me.”
So why then, knowing that, do I still long to leave Your presence? That’s the question, isn’t it?
I don’t have an answer for that. I want You but simultaneously, I’m terried of You.
That’s even scarier than just wanting to leave.
God, please help.
Help my unbelief.