You know what’s frustrating? Faith.

 

 

 

So I was trying to have a devotional this morning, and I became really frustrated and confused. I read Luke 9 and 10 last night, and then Matthew 8 and 9 today. I’m not saying that to brag. I don’t have the most vibrant spiritual life right now anyway.

Both passages referenced times when Jesus called for radical faith.

In Matthew 8:23-27, Jesus, the good president over all the universe, calms a storm while he and his disciples are on a boat. But He only does it because his disciples have little faith:

The disciples woke him, saying, ‘Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!’ He replied, ‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’ Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

I started to wonder, what would have happened if they had not cried out to him? Would he have stayed asleep?
Would he have let the storm rage on?

I’m sure he would have protected them somehow. But wasn’t the story better because of their little faith?

Who knows?
Isn’t it bad to have “little faith?”
But isn’t it good to pray and ask God for things?
I just can’t see…

In Luke 9:24, the overlord over all the universe gives a piece of advice:

“Whoever wants to find his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet to lose or forfeit his very self?”

I had also talked about this verse in my Bible study last week with the other member. All one of them. But that verse — what does that even mean? I know it means we need to give up doing evil and selfish things. But what does that mean for me? Should I just quit my secular job, which He allowed me to have, so I can go do “spiritual” things? And make other Christians, with secular jobs, pay my salary on top of theirs? (I’m not attacking anybody who raises support for their job, just trying to reason things out. I envy full-time ministers.)

Then I whipped out this devotional book called Our Daily Bread. I read a couple days ahead because I’m just really hungry. And I still don’t feel full. There’s not enough bread in the world sometimes. One of the days’ devotionals was called “Love and Support.” It’s about this guy who’s talking about one of his friends who works at an orphanage in a developing country. He says,

“She and many other believers have had their hearts captured by Christ and think that abandoning ‘essential’ comforts and conveniences is a small thing to do to honor Him who loves us. They need our support in the way Paul depended on his friends in Phillipi — for fellowship (Phil 1:5), for finances (4:16), and for care (4:18).” (emphasis mine)

Hmm. So other believers have had their hearts “captured by Christ,” but the rest of us haven’t? Like, not everyone is destined to have their “heart captured by Christ?”
Like, is it just the luck of the draw or something?
Do you have to be a special kind of person to have your heart “captured by Christ?”
Does something forbid you to actually (God forbid) give up “comforts and conveniences” if you live in the continental United States?
Does having a family “free” you from the responsibility to serve the needy of the world?
And if you aren’t special enough to work in the “field”
(because, you know, not everybody is “called” to work in the “field”),
you just have to sit on the sidelines,
with no beauty,
no adventure,
no romance?

Why shouldn’t every Christian have access to this same kind of adventurous, beautiful, romantic life?

Did not our pure and glorious Savior
travel to the depths of Mary’s reproductive system,
and to the heights of a mountain named after human remains,
so we might have such a life? (John 10:10)

I just don’t see… why can’t everyone be like this woman?

Well, because we need money.
That’s the main thing that comes to my mind.

Someone has to tough it out in corporate America. Or a startup company. Or anything that sells a product and makes a profit. A business that actually makes money in a free market economy. Not 100% of us can work at non-profits. The numbers just don’t add up.

So what about the rest of us, then? I guess this is my main question:

Can you find that your heart is captured by Christ, even now?

Even if you work in a secular field? And by secular I don’t mean that God isn’t there. (But I have a hard time concentrating on him there.) I mean if you don’t get paid to have Christian fellowship or do Christian ministry. If you work a secular job, those things must be entirely intrinsically motivated. (Which is good, because when you’re paid to love people, that can definitely be a trap in itself.)

Is it possible to work at a secular job without having your faith becoming weakened because of it? Is it possible to still find vibrant fellowship and ministry without seeing your work suffer because of it?

The reason I ask.

This week, I quit two of my favorite things: working with 3-year-olds in MOPS, and volunteering at a pregnancy center. They were my favorite not because they were necessarily easy, but they were fulfilling. And I felt like I was making a difference.

I work full-time now. And even though my schedule is flexible, I don’t have all the time in the world. And even though my schedule is flexible and I can work from home, I think it’s better for my productivity and more respectful and honoring of my coworkers when I’m actually at the office. When they are. I like being around them, anyway. Don’t get me wrong — I love my job. I couldn’t have asked for a better job right out of college. I am very thankful. But the impact I make by selling products and raising money is rather temporary.

It makes me sad that I had to quit these things. I guess I’m writing this post today mainly because feel like I’m sacrificing my job for service and fellowship, and I’m sacrificing service and fellowship for my job. And in all three arenas I’m not doing as much as I’d like to. And especially, I’ve had a hard time setting aside time (and concentration) to have any kind of refreshing devotional life.

I know I can make a lasting impact at work. But still, I’m spending less time overall doing that.
I’m spending a significant fraction of my days just
working.

…
But…
fine.
Maybe God has a bigger plan that I can’t see.
And that plan, alas, requires this.
Inefficiency.

Or at least what I see as “inefficiency.” (aka me quitting church-y things to do not-blatantly-church-y — but still potentially very amazing, important, God-honoring — things.)
And it’s why,
in this very messy place,
I have an opportunity.
A choice.

To love.
To make it an adventure.
To make this messy place into a work of art with a power not my own.
And in a different, but necessary, just as spiritual way.

Darn it. I hate when I can’t see… And I actually have to have
radical faith.