Doubts Part IV: The Surprising Conviction

The funny thing about these doubts, the searching, and the resolution I felt, is that it was short lived. Though I found answers to my questions, and peace about my faith, I also found something I hadn't set out to find: conviction. The kind that feels like a punch in the gut and makes you wonder what you've been thinking all these years...

It began, actually, through a Christian romance novel I was reading while I worked-out. (God works in mysterious, and sometimes embarrassing ways.) You see, there are people in my life who have really hurt me. And over the years I've blamed some of them for many of my own insecurities and much sadness. Well, through this book, God showed me how similar I am to those people. I am no better than them. In fact, I've acted in many of those same hurtful ways. I just refused to see it that way for many years...justifying my sin and playing the victim from theirs.

And as if that realization wasn't sobering enough, it struck me that I was actually much worse than them. Because among other reasons, I call myself a Christian. I knew better than to act in those hurtful ways. Through all these years, I just never saw it that way. But when you're too busy nursing your wounds from someone else's sin, it's hard to stop and consider your own guilt. It was as if I couldn't face my own wrongdoing. You see, I had tried so hard my entire life to be good. Admitting my guilt in this area was admitting that I had failed. But not admitting my guilt meant something much worse than failing...

"If you are avoiding sin and living morally so that God will have to bless and save you, then ironically, you may be looking to Jesus as a teacher, model and helper but you are avoiding him as Saviour. You are trusting in your own goodness rather than in Jesus for your standing with God. You are trying to save yourself by following Jesus. That, ironically, is a rejection of the gospel of Jesus." -Timothy Keller, A Reason For God

Why exactly had I tried so hard to be good? Was it so that God would "owe me" a happy life? Is that why I became angry, when despite my efforts, life didn't go as planned? I-did-my-part-why-wasn't-God-doing-his-part kind of attitude? Coming to terms with the idea that I wasn't as good as I thought, was no longer just making me feel uneasy, it was uprooting my perspective of myself and of God.

"The Christian's identify is not based on the need to be perceived as a good person, but on God's valuing of you in Christ." Clearly I don't live by that belief or I wouldn't speed only when no other cars are around, I wouldn't act busy when my boss came in, I wouldn't pretend to be so good. I would live openly and I wouldn't care so much about how other people perceive me. Unfortunately, my identity isn't based on God's value of me, it's based on being good and perfect and pretty and charming and cheerful and spiritual and witty and happy and peaceful and content. It's based on being a really good Christian.

I am deeply sorry if my attempts to be seen as "good" have worked. It pains me to think that I may have fooled anyone into believing that the standard for Christianity is too high...because while I may have carefully avoided the "really bad" sins, and looked good on the outside...I was like an apple that had been eaten by worms on the inside, rotting and moldy yet perfectly smooth and shiny at first glance. That is the painful truth.

And it's also true that there is no "standard" in order to be a Christian. Contrary to the way I live my life, you don't actually have to be really good to be a really good Christian. There's only one qualification: be a sinner. Be broken. Be empty. Be in need. Come empty and let Christ fill you up. Find your identity in the only person who has ever loved you perfectly. I invite you, along with me, to stop trying to be so good, and let Christ's goodness be enough.

P.S. If you're thinking of starting a blog about what God is honestly teaching you...I must warn you to consider carefully. He may use this time to teach you some painful, embarrassing, and hard lessons.

(This is part four of a series of journal entries and research I've been working on for the last month or so. Click for part one, part two, and part three.)