It’s (not) All Up To You.
Nathanael Berends July 30th, 2004
If It’s All About You, Then It’s All Up To You. God Loves You Too Much To Say That It Is All About You.
- Max Lucado
I read this line in the instant messaging profile of a really good friend…
After reading it, I sat and marveled at the statement – not because I was struck by the amazing depth of the sentiment, or by the immense implications; rather, I marveled because I realized that I didn’t know what in hell it meant.
I’m not sure that I am any closer to understanding it than when I first begun.
Perhaps I Am…
Regardless, I was both encouraged and dismayed by my interpretation of the quote.
As I see it, it is a pretty basic re-affirmation of grace…
With as much spiritual inclination as I could muster, I read the message to simply say this:
When God gives us what seems like more than we can handle, we shouldn’t worry – because we don’t need to handle it… God loves us that much – enough that he’d never think of leaving us to fight our spiritual battles alone.
That is a pretty cool concept…
Except…
I don’t really care – Lucado’s message doesn’t mean anything to me.
What should be troubling is that Lucado’s attempt to convey how much God loves me has failed.
It probably doesn’t matter how cleverly he presented his idea – the simple fact is that - for some unknown reason - I am incapable of feeling the love of God; the love that so many people talk about.
I recently talked to someone who I’d be under-commending if I simply called him my spiritual role model – because he has become so much more.
Regardless of how I refer to him, one thing remains true:
He – like Lucado – has failed.
… at least that was my first reaction.
It only seemed at first look that they had failed.
As untrue and as false as I am in asserting these claims, the fact remains that I – in some odd way – felt like they weren’t successful in what they hoped to do.
…But they were… either inadvertently or directly, they have led me to realize one thing.
At the onset, it was my hope that these spiritual role models – both those directly in my life, and those more indirectly related to me – would be able to say a magic word – or perhaps a magic sentence – that would immediately fix my spiritual dilemma.
Looking back at the quote, I realize the folly in this train of thought.
The truth is that it isn’t up to us to define matters of the spiritual realm.
I was sitting ten feet from John Hiatt when he offered this advice.
‘When facing any matters of religion, faith, and such, remember only two things:
One; yes, there is infact a God.
Two; no, you yourself are not God’
Again, I can analyze this statement and attempt to pull it apart in hopes of finding some applicable truth. Despite this, one fact remains; even if I can find some truth in the statement, I strongly doubt that I’d be able to use that truth to change anything.
But then again – I am not God.
If Lucado is infact correct, then I can put my faith in God to make the move.
But… this leads to an entire tangential universe of thoughts, doubts, and truths.
Only those closest to me know of my spiritual journey, and how for the last year and a half – almost closer to two - I’ve been treading only enough to stay afloat in my personal sea of doubt and logic.
Then, I look at those around me…
I see what I want, but can’t have…
I see people who seem to have the whole ‘spiritual thing’ figured out.
In honesty, I envy their position – a position of some variety of spiritual superiority.
Then, the resentment gets pushed to a different target – God.
If I truly believed that God existed - and does exist - I’d probably be pretty pissed at him.
As bad as that may seem, it is the truth. I begin asking questions like ‘Why Me God?’, And ‘How Much Longer’.
It seems like there has got to be a reason. Perhaps if I knew that reason, my situation would appear more bearable…
For the past 18 or more months, there hasn’t been a reason:
At first, it seemed like I was kindly waiting for an epiphany to define the purpose of faith. From there, it moved to a more cynical sense of realization that God may be testing me… forcing me to define my faith for myself.
Now?
Now, it seems that I am on the edge…
I am still able to tell myself that there probably is a God, and that he did infact send his mortal son to save us from our sins.
… with great fear, I realize that I am less certain of the truth of the preceding statement than I was 18 months ago.
… with great fear, I realize that I am human – and humans do fail; humans do give up.
… with great fear, I realize that I have got to be close to giving up.
In hindsight, I’ve spent the past 18 months pursuing something while receiving no real proof that my efforts are working.
… for somebody as bent on logic as myself, that just doesn’t make any sense.
I am half expecting that any day, I will realize my foolishness, and throw in the towel for real.
I don’t want to give up… but I really don’t know what choice I’ve got.
A cynic could say that I don’t need to give up if I don’t want to.
I would refute that: Have you got any idea how discouraging to spend 18 months with no real results?
Half of me is saying “Fuck It.”
At this point in time, I really like that side.
But it is only half of me – though I can’t say that the complete other half is saying the opposite.
I know that this doesn’t make any sense - please forgive me if I’ve wasted your time with this post.
This has become much less of an objective post than I had initially figured on – but it is my belief that a lot of what I said needed to be said.
In the morning, I’ll probably kick myself for writing it – but this isn’t a work of fiction. Everything I wrote had a reason – whether I am aware of that reason or not.
If It’s All About You, Then It’s All Up To You. God Loves You Too Much To Say That It Is All About You.
I guess if God really does love me, he could put an end to this. Maybe he loves me so much that he knows what reason this ‘trial’ has. Regardless, I don’t know that I can think about it anymore tonight.
Again, I am sorry if this post served you no purpose.
Perhaps it has for me.
[Joy Fits?]
My Last Question Is This:
Why, when I re-read this, do tears come to my eyes? That isn’t fair.