On Apathy and His Enough-ness

Life has tasted stale lately. Mundane. Listless. This lethargy started infecting my spiritual life, and it has since extended to all aspects of my life—from diet and exercise to writing habits. And the funny thing is, this Blah-ness started after I got a job. I prayed for work for months and months and threw myself on the promises of God, and then I got a job and … I tumbled off of the mountain of those promises. Somehow forgot about the follow-through. And then I applied to graduate school and, wonder of wonders, got in, and not only to one program but three—three fully funded offers from prestigious programs. What more could a girl want? But it hasn’t shaken the lethargy that has taken root in my system over these last few months.

I’m getting married in 4 months, after which my husband and I will move out east, where grad school awaits. So many reasons to praise! So many prayers brought to fruition in His timing!

So much apathy it’s amazing I get out of bed some mornings.

Some things are starting to pierce through, though. Today I got a devotional in the mail from my mom (Fresh Grounded Faith by Jennifer Rothschild), and the first devotional featured the story of a woman named Julie. Rothschild met Julie at a women’s conference when she was doing a book signing; the author is blind, as is Julie, a Pakistani Christian who, after standing up to a man who touched her inappropriately, was attacked with acid by that same man. Burned and blinded, she went to the United States to recover, but at the time she met Rothschild, she was preparing to go back to Pakistan. Asked about her safety, Julie replied, “No matter. If something happens, I will be home with Jesus” (14).

Fearless. Absolutely fearless. That kind of courage in the face of danger is remarkable, and the unshakable courage and conviction that enables one to face that kind of danger can only come from Christ. Unwavering steadfastness. Fearless faith. These are the signs of one who is firmly grounded in Christ Jesus.

I talked with my fiancé last night, and he was recounting some of the messages at the Passion conference. John Piper’s message really impacted him, and during the message, Piper said something to the effect of, you are only as strong as the foundation of your joy.

We are only as strong as the foundation of our faith. Right now, I’m remembering that my faith is strong enough, in Christ, to withstand the drought that is apathy and disconnect. It’s very, very hard to write that. At the moment, I’ll settle for actually wanting to read the Bible, let alone having the sort of faith that could lead me to face down martyrdom.

I feel very, very weak, so it’s probably a good thing that the reality of our spiritual state doesn’t depend on our emotions. I know my faith can weather this drought because I know my Abba is bigger. And if I possess even the faith of a mustard seed, my faith can move a mountain. And mustard seeds are small, people.

I don’t know how big or small your faith is right now. But no matter the size, it is enough for Him, because He is enough for us. His immensity covers our smallness; his wisdom, our foolishness; his strength, our weakness. He is enough.

Matthew 17:20: He replied, “Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

Choosing Faith

Over the last few days, I’ve asked God, “What do you want from me?” (you know, sort of like the Adam Lambert song). The response every time has been, Faith.

When I was dipping my feet in the pool of abjection, faith seemed like a ludicrous and trite answer to such an enormous question. But really, in reflection, it’s the only answer that makes sense. It’s the only answer that can give hope.

I worship a God who does not deal in specifics when it comes to answering my prayers. That is, I never get a direct telephone line, “Just wanted to let you know that x, y, and z will be happening today. In case you’re wondering, spend the most time on x!” I trust that, even though I can’t see what’s coming, he knows the specifics; “For you formed my inward parts; you covered me in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13). And from the same Psalm:

O Lord, You have searched me and known me,

You know my sitting down and my rising up;

You understand my thought afar off.

You comprehend my path and my lying down,

And are acquainted with all my ways.

For there is not a word on my tongue,

But behold, O Lord, You now it altogether.

You have hedged me behind and before,

And laid your hand upon me. Psalm 139:1-5, italics mine

My favorite Psalm. Verse five is my favorite: “You have hedged me behind and before, and laid your hand upon me.” A hedge is a form of protection. “Behind and before” implies both foresight and hindsight; he knows the scope and span of a life, of my life, of your life. He knows us intimately, sees the darkness, and protects us anyway.

It’s funny how in the mist of despair, in the midst of temper tantrums, in the midst of anger toward God, we can lose sight of his goodness and faithfulness to us. In my experience, anger and sadness are pretty much inevitable in any relationship, and since we’re human, it stands to reason that at some point, we will be angry or sad with something we perceive God has done/is doing. The danger is that when we lose sight of his goodness, of his glory, we cannot see the light, and if we cannot see the light, then we are in darkness.

I’ve been angry with God and still praised him (“Blessed Be Your Name” is a good song for those times). But this last week was a time when I felt angry, betrayed, rejected, a good for nothing … and there was no light. There was no glory. There was no praise.

A conversation with my mother reminded me that the quickest way out of darkness is praise, because darkness cannot remain in a room where the name of Jesus is being lifted high. She also exhorted me with that verse about the mustard seed and the mountain (Matthew 17:20) and challenged me: can you summon the faith of a mustard seed? Because even a small faith can move mountains in your situation.

In the gospels, we have numerous examples of situations where, by faith, people were healed and – this is crucial – the nature of Jesus was understood. By having faith in who he was and by acting in that knowledge, people were healed. The woman who bled for twelve years and reached out to touch the hem of his garment. The Roman centurion. And various others. They reached out to Jesus, having faith that he was the only one who could bring light and healing into their situation. They opened the door and invited his presence in.

Conversely, fear (among many other things) can cripple the power of an action taken in faith. When Jesus called to Peter to walk across the water to come to him, Peter was afraid and, taking steps in fear, began to sink. “And immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” (Matthew 15:31). Peter doubted, so he sank, thus preventing the awesome experience that Jesus had called him to. But – and remember this! – immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him. Immediately, Peter was caught by his loving Lord. Immediately, Jesus acted and came to the rescue, catching his friend and pulling him back into the boat to recover. Immediately. Even when we doubt him, even when we’re fearful, even when we don’t believe him, Jesus catches us.

He knows us intimately. His love for us is vast and unfathomable. Even in our failure, he catches us, hedges us – protects us.

And still, faith is a choice. The fact that we choose to believe him or not – the fact that he gives us the option – continues to astound me. Even after salvation, everything is a choice. Prayer. Worship. Digging deeper. Having faith that he will come through in a difficult situation. Having faith that he will heal what has been broken. Having faith for x, y, or z. Opening your bible to read. Choice. At every step, we have the option of choosing him or not choosing him.

When we continuously choose to walk in light, the fruits of the spirit (Galations 5:22-23) are evidenced. While I often remember that patience, gentleness, and self-control are fruits of the spirit (a.k.a., things I have trouble with!), I so often forget that faithfulness is also a fruit. Faithfulness is one of those things that grows every time you choose it. It’s like a muscle; it grows when it is exercised. When we choose faith (or love, or joy, or peace, etc.), it grows. God is faithful to us even we are not faithful to him, but when we are faithful, the reward is great. More peace. More joy. More faith. And hope. Above all, hope.

Jeremiah 29:11-13: “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.”