I’m a Christian, but I feel as if I’m doing everything wrong. I was raised in a Christian family and have been a Christian for six years. But I’m pretty much convinced that the only difference between believers and non-believers is that we go to heaven when we die. In the end, all faith is is hellfire insurance. I used to pray to God almost every day. I did this for months. Now I rarely do it at all. Whether or not I pray, God is going to do what he wants. Life is going to happen.
I’ve observed that life is pretty much a game of “pick your poison.” Happiness never lasts, so why bother trying? In fact, ironically, trying to be happy is what causes a lot of people misery. I know some find comfort in knowing he knows their voice. I feel the opposite. Knowing he’s there and just does what he wants regardless of what I say.
For a example, for years I’ve had to deal with loneliness. No matter how much I’ve prayed or put myself out there, I haven’t had one close friend in years and have never been on one date. Just hoping hurts. It’s the crystal meth of emotions. Hooks you fast and kills you hard. And love? Love is a very nice thing but it can’t solve your problems. Besides, who really knows or cares what love is anymore? All love brings you is hurt, pain, and anguish.
Like I said, the only thing faith promises is a heavenly afterlife. As for life here, you’re on your own. The only thing we’re promised here is hardship. Any true and lasting relief only comes when you die. For now God’s only concerned with our souls. The only reason we’re still on earth is to make more converts. And if God does cause pain, I wouldn’t be surprised. Pain is often needed to help one grow. Besides, who am I to question him? I’m just a face in a sea of mortals. He’s the God of everything.
I’ve had my moments where I’ve been close to God. But they’ve been few and far between. I’ve tried a lot of things to grow as a Christian and to get out and make friends and maybe find that special person. But there comes a point when you have to leave behind your fairytale faith for the harsh grown-up faith. I grew up attending church and being taught about God. But I only accepted the faith in my senior year of high school.
Now I’m 24. Not much has changed. I’ve pretty much been stuck in the same life stage despite my attempts to move on. Everyone around me, meanwhile, is moving on. I don’t really know how much I’ve grown in my faith. But I’m tired of having to re-explain my faith to myself.
But who cares about emotions in the end anyway? All God really cares is that we do and say the right things and just do whatever he says. Life isn’t fair and neither is God. I’ll do whatever he wants me to do though. My hardworking parents have taught me that when there’s a job that needs to be done, it doesn’t matter whether or not I’m happy doing it. What matters is that the job gets done. If he wants me to be alone for the rest of my life, then fine. I won’t argue. I’ll mourn it and then move on.
When Jesus described a full life, he doesn’t mention being happy. In the 1 Corinthians 13, feelings are never mentioned when describing love. Besides, happiness is fleeting. Wanting to be happy is the cause for a lot of sin. Both good reasons to reject it. And the only “joy” I have is in knowing I’m going to heaven when I die. The deal is signed. My sin for his righteousness. Love is for children, I owe him a debt. Happiness is not a right and neither is my own life. In fact, according to God, I don’t have any rights. If God does have a plan for my life, I honestly can’t imagine it involving something I may like.
If anything, I’m expecting the opposite. And even if it may seem like I’ll like it, there has to be a catch. Nothing in life is free. And where does so-called joy fit in? Whenever my church puts on a fun event, it makes me want to say, “Shouldn’t we fast and give all this food to the poor?” Or, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay home and pray for our missionaries?” It’s either God’s happiness or mine. Can’t have both. Life isn’t about having “fun.”
Kids have always had to work hard like their parents. It’s only in the past few decades that that has changed. My grandma grew up during the Great Depression. She was the oldest and had literally a dozen brothers and sisters, whom she often had to watch. And she didn’t complain. Both my parents grew up in poor families. My dad started working when he was 14 years old. My mom learned early on how to sew her own clothes. My parents also were not concerned about whether or not my brother, sister, and I liked them. They were not our “buddies.” They loved us, but us liking them was not a concern to them. We were raised.
Don’t be sorry for me though. I was never abused in any way. I never had to worry about money or food. I was pretty spoiled compared to a lot of kids. And only in recent years have I realized that I deserve none of it. Like I said, the only reason I’m still breathing is because God is allowing me to live. I owe him everything. He owes me nothing.
I’ve observed that life is pretty much a game of “pick your poison.” Happiness never lasts, so why bother trying? In fact, ironically, trying to be happy is what causes a lot of people misery. I know some find comfort in knowing he knows their voice. I feel the opposite. Knowing he’s there and just does what he wants regardless of what I say.
For a example, for years I’ve had to deal with loneliness. No matter how much I’ve prayed or put myself out there, I haven’t had one close friend in years and have never been on one date. Just hoping hurts. It’s the crystal meth of emotions. Hooks you fast and kills you hard. And love? Love is a very nice thing but it can’t solve your problems. Besides, who really knows or cares what love is anymore? All love brings you is hurt, pain, and anguish.
Like I said, the only thing faith promises is a heavenly afterlife. As for life here, you’re on your own. The only thing we’re promised here is hardship. Any true and lasting relief only comes when you die. For now God’s only concerned with our souls. The only reason we’re still on earth is to make more converts. And if God does cause pain, I wouldn’t be surprised. Pain is often needed to help one grow. Besides, who am I to question him? I’m just a face in a sea of mortals. He’s the God of everything.
I’ve had my moments where I’ve been close to God. But they’ve been few and far between. I’ve tried a lot of things to grow as a Christian and to get out and make friends and maybe find that special person. But there comes a point when you have to leave behind your fairytale faith for the harsh grown-up faith. I grew up attending church and being taught about God. But I only accepted the faith in my senior year of high school.
Now I’m 24. Not much has changed. I’ve pretty much been stuck in the same life stage despite my attempts to move on. Everyone around me, meanwhile, is moving on. I don’t really know how much I’ve grown in my faith. But I’m tired of having to re-explain my faith to myself.
But who cares about emotions in the end anyway? All God really cares is that we do and say the right things and just do whatever he says. Life isn’t fair and neither is God. I’ll do whatever he wants me to do though. My hardworking parents have taught me that when there’s a job that needs to be done, it doesn’t matter whether or not I’m happy doing it. What matters is that the job gets done. If he wants me to be alone for the rest of my life, then fine. I won’t argue. I’ll mourn it and then move on.
When Jesus described a full life, he doesn’t mention being happy. In the 1 Corinthians 13, feelings are never mentioned when describing love. Besides, happiness is fleeting. Wanting to be happy is the cause for a lot of sin. Both good reasons to reject it. And the only “joy” I have is in knowing I’m going to heaven when I die. The deal is signed. My sin for his righteousness. Love is for children, I owe him a debt. Happiness is not a right and neither is my own life. In fact, according to God, I don’t have any rights. If God does have a plan for my life, I honestly can’t imagine it involving something I may like.
If anything, I’m expecting the opposite. And even if it may seem like I’ll like it, there has to be a catch. Nothing in life is free. And where does so-called joy fit in? Whenever my church puts on a fun event, it makes me want to say, “Shouldn’t we fast and give all this food to the poor?” Or, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay home and pray for our missionaries?” It’s either God’s happiness or mine. Can’t have both. Life isn’t about having “fun.”
Kids have always had to work hard like their parents. It’s only in the past few decades that that has changed. My grandma grew up during the Great Depression. She was the oldest and had literally a dozen brothers and sisters, whom she often had to watch. And she didn’t complain. Both my parents grew up in poor families. My dad started working when he was 14 years old. My mom learned early on how to sew her own clothes. My parents also were not concerned about whether or not my brother, sister, and I liked them. They were not our “buddies.” They loved us, but us liking them was not a concern to them. We were raised.
Don’t be sorry for me though. I was never abused in any way. I never had to worry about money or food. I was pretty spoiled compared to a lot of kids. And only in recent years have I realized that I deserve none of it. Like I said, the only reason I’m still breathing is because God is allowing me to live. I owe him everything. He owes me nothing.
