Hopeless Ramblings

Do you have the time
To listen to me whine
About nothing and everything
All at once
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
-"Basket Case" by Green Day

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
--Proverbs 13:12

I am not Job.

I was not a man worthy of praise for my uprightness. I certainly wouldn't draw the attention of Satan for my ability to avoid sin. I've not lost everything and everyone I love in a flash. I'm not covered in sores. My wife is not telling me to curse God and die- actually, she is a glimmer of hope in my life.

But those glimmers of hope are few and far between lately. I don't face Job-like catastrophes just yet. My job is on the line, my kids got sick and the medicine is ridiculously expensive, my computer crashed and we lost all important documents and pictures of the last two years, and the tendinitis in my elbow is getting pretty painful.

These things seem small to you, no doubt. But they don't to me. They are piling up, and despite my hopes and prayers- there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

I guess I should also point out that in the midst of all this, I've been looking for God. I've been asking Him for help, for direction, for light- but all that happens is one more thing to weigh me down.

I don't want you to quote me scripture, or give me some platitude about how "things will turn out." I don't know that I can believe that. Things have always turned out before- but that is no guarantee now. Things didn't turn out for John the Baptist when he was arrested and put before Herod. Why do we assume that "things will turn out" when many of the people of the Bible ended up on the total opposite of "OK?"

So, what if I lose my job and there isn't another one to fill its place? What if, on the limited budget that creates, we can't pay bills, or the car breaks down or some major illness hits? What if the way out I've been praying for never comes?

How can I have faith when it seems God is silent?

I remember once in college, shortly after my Dad passed away, I was at a small group leaders meeting with twenty or so other college students. Something was said and I responded to it. One of the other leaders, Michael- who I had always seen as a great example of faith and conviction and desire for God- looked at me and said, "You have such faith."

What happened?

I served in churches where "Christians" ate each other alive at the drop of the hat. I've seen fervent prayer for healing or rescue go seemingly unanswered. I've watched as truly faithful people struggle while others seem to have it easy with seemingly little dependence on faith. I've seen hollow believers ascend to leadership because of who they knew, while those whose hearts are true wallow in the depths of anonymity.

Through all of that, I've had faith. It has been tested, it has been tried, it has ebbed and flowed- as it is even now.

And I recognize that faith is not a constant- sometimes we have it and sometimes we don't. Right now, my faith is low. Perhaps next week it will rise, perhaps after lunch, perhaps not for a long while. My faith is low, because my hope it exhausted.

Just last week, I came across a quote from Hurley on the show Lost:

Look, I don't know about you, but things have really sucked for me lately, and I could really use a victory. So let's get one, dude! Let's get this car started. Let's look death in the face and say: 'Whatever, man!'"

I'm between the first and second sentences there right now. I need a victory. I need God to show up. I need my faith and what little hope I have to be validated.

See, it would be easy for me to take what I'm feeling and say, "Forget you, God- you've left me and don't seem to care. Your expectations and rules are too much for me, so I'm gone." Believe me, this is tempting.

But I can't.

And I can't really explain why I can't. Perhaps it's in the fact that I know God is real. And if I know and believe that God is real, then I must recognize what He said and has done in the past for me and all people is real.

Perhaps it's the fact that I don't know how to not trust in God, that's all I've ever known.

Or maybe, it's the fact that if I let go of the hope I have in God, then I really have nothing left to hope in.

And if that's the case, then the hope I now have is that I am right where God wants me: lowly and contrite, broken and malleable. Available to Him. Useful to Him.

Wholly His.

And it is there that I will get to the second sentence in Hurley's quote- that I will look death, or failure, or unemployment, or stagnation in the face and say "Whatever, man!"

And He will be the only victory I want or need.