Parched

I don't know why it's such a struggle for me. I don't understand why I don't feel it the way I think I'm supposed to. I don't know why I can't sit quietly and talk to God, feeling His presence and being changed by it. I don't know why something so powerful - that sounds so simple - is so hard for me to do. I don't know why I - a follower of Christ - have such a hard time with something that is so basic and central to faith. I don't know why something that is supposed to be uplifting and encouraging is the source of such frustration for me, and I don't know why I can't change something I want so badly to change.

Ever since I posted the above statements, I've felt like I should have said more. I've felt a little guilty of being vague about the very sort of thing that I always say that we - as followers of Christ - need to be honest with each other about. I truly feel like we have a lot we can learn from each other - I'm conviced of that because I've experienced such deep and profound wisdom from other Christian women - but that can only happen if we're willing to be compeltely real, honest, and vulnerable with each other. We can never help each other work out our issues and troubles if we don't allow each other to see them.

That said, I'm going back and changing what I said. I'm not taking it back, because it's still true and I don't want to discount what I said. I'm changing it so that I can go deeper, allowing myself to find answers and - possibly - to encourage someone else who needs to hear it.

Quiet time. I do not know what it is. I do not know because I don't think I've ever experienced it the way God wants me to. I don't think I've ever felt it like He longs for me to feel it. Yes, I've had powerful prayer times, and have praised Him powerfully in my personal times of devotion. I've sung and raised my hands and cried out to Him and have felt His presence. I have, but that is more the exception than the rule for my "quiet times."

This is what it usually looks like. I sit down with my Bible, journal, pen, highlighter, and - possibly - study book. I might have music playing - I might not. I'm ready to go. I have everything I need.......except direction. Once I've managed to carve out time and conjure the motivation to do this thing called "quiet time," I'm stumped. Finding time and motivation, for me, is not the hard part. The hard part, for me, is the quiet time itself. I don't know what to do. I never know where to start.

I can liken it to someone who is fascinated by a hobby - say, rock-climbing. Imagine a guy who sees all of the "cool" guys around him getting involved in rock-climbing. He sees their Nalgene bottles, carabiners, backpacks, and calloused hands. He hears their stories of their latest summit, or their plans for their next big climb. (I should mention here that I have never done this thing called "rock-climbing," and therefore am probably not using any of the right terminology. Bear with me. I have a point, I promise.) He sees all of this and hears all of this and wishes so badly that he could be a part of it. He wants to be a part of that world - to understand what they're talking about and experience what they experience. There's something amazing that they get to be a part of, and he wants that.

Desperate to experience this rush, he goes and buys all of the equipment he needs for climbing. He reads up on how to do it, reads accounts of those who have done it, finds out the best places to go to do it, and learns ll of the lingo (unlike me). He does all of this, but he never goes and does it. He never once steps onto a mountain, or a climbing wall, either, for that matter. He never tries it. He never takes that step, and wonders why all of his superficial preparation has not brought him to the place he wants to be. He wonders why he still cannot relate to those who have been there and done that, and wonders why - as much as anything - he feels like such a poser.

I'm like this wanna-be rock-climber when it comes to quiet time. I have all of the equipment. I've read what all of the experienced folks have to say about it. I talk about it like I know everything about it firsthand, and I use the language like I really know what I'm talking about.

But I don't. I just don't.

I have no clue. Here, I'm afraid, is where the similarities between myself and the wanna-be rock-climber end. I try to do it. I really do. I sit down and have every intention and hope of wholeheartedly dedicating some time to God. I hope that this time it will be different. I read some......I write some........I listen.........and, more often than not, I fall asleep. Or my mind wanders to thousands of trivial things. Or I get frustrated and quit. I really do try, but I don't feel anything. My prayers sound more like a recited poem, with the same words every time, and my Bible always falls open to the same well-marked passages. Nothing new. Nothing fresh. Nothing extraordinary, and nothing life-changing.

This makes me really sad. For one thing, I want this. I want to know God and want to experience Him in this intensely personal way. I ask Him to help me with this - to make me HUNGRY (starved, even) for Him - but nothing happens. I want it so much, but I don't k now what to do or how to think to make it real for me.

For another thing, I feel like a poser. I get up in front of the church every week and help lead worship. I have, I think, led people to believe that I am in a place of higher spirituality than I am, and this breaks my heart. I want to get up in front of everyone and say all of this. I want to tell the world that it's not as easy as everyone says, and that "not even I have it all together." It's lonely on this pedestal of righteousness that church leaders get placed on. Even in a church like mine, that professes to be real and honest (and usually is), does not make me feel like I can talk openly about a struggle with something that *should* be so basic to my faith. It's lonely, frustrating, and - honestly - it's kind of infuriating. If we can't be honest - really, brutally honest - with each other about how we're struggling with this, we're never going to be able to move forward as a Church. We won't, because individuals are going to be fighting wars all on their own, fed lies that they are each the only ones who deal with this and should not, could not, would not ever talk about it with anyone who might be able to help. The Church, I think, is trying to jump whilst having our feet nailed to the ground.

The thing with quiet time is this: we know it should be this powerful thing, and perhaps we've even experienced it to be so (I maybe have, at certain times), but DO WE REALLY HAVE ANY GRASP OF WHAT IT COULD BE? Do we really get it? Do we really see this personal, one-on-one time with God as the life-changing interaction He wants it to be for us? Do we expect great things when we meet with Him, or do we simply expect more of the same? Do we cherish that time, or do we let it slip by without incident?

I have to wonder how close we ever are. I have to wonder how much more there is than we are allowing ourselves to have. We sing a song in church that says: "If I'm healed by just one touch of your garment, Lord, then how much more of You is for me than what I'm tasting?" If one little glimpse of Him is that powerful for us, how much more does He wants us to have than what we're settling for? How much more? Even the most enlightened followers of Christ must be falling desperately short.

And this is where it becomes frustrating. Jesus said - promised, even - that the poor in Spirit would be blessed. Those who see how badly they need God will be blessed.....but what does it take? I know I need God. I want God - more and more of Him - but I can't get myself to that place. My feet, too, are nailed to the ground, and I can't make it happen for myself. I struggle, and force myself into quiet time, only to leave there feeling like I've missed the point again. Yet again. There's so much to be had, and I don't know how to get there. I don't know how to experience the thing I need the most. It's like I'm dying of thirst in front of a crystal spring because I don't know how to get the water that will keep me alive.



Please comment. I covet your thoughts on this.