I finished re-reading The Shack yesterday and have been rolling so many things over in my mind ever since. At the forefront, it seems, is that, like Mack, my understanding of God is wrong. I judge him and I judge him to be someone that he is not, someone that the broken me this side of Eden has made him out to be. Someone that reflects my dad's flaws and the lies I have chosen to believe - lies that I believe about myself, lies about others and lies about the character and personality of fathers. I see him as untrustworthy and that frightens me. To me, He has always been a "father" and not a "dad" at all. If I encounter difficulty in life, I automatically think he's punishing me for something I've done. For instance, if I splurge and buy ice cream and then my car won't start, I somehow connect the two and think I knew I shouldn't have bought that. I certainly didn't need it! As if me spending the extra $3 buying the ice cream made God mad and he decided to make my car not start. Seriously. I know how ludicrous that sounds. Even just saying it I am so embarrassed, but it's true that I feel that way. I view him through my heinous, dark, experience-tinted glasses.
Now, fundamentally, I know these are lies. I know God loves me and that he sent his son to die on a cross for me. I know those things because I was brought up in Sunday School and had them drilled into my brain from a very young age. My head knows them but somehow there's a major disconnect between my head and my heart. "What we have here is failure to communicate ..." I view God this way and that perpetuates the lies I believe (I'm not chosen. I'm not loved. I'm not enough. Not worthy. Not acceptable.). I then judge God and I project my inner world onto God's face and tar it with a reflection of my brokenness. This reinforces my false belief that God is unloving, untrustworthy, distant, judgmental, unapproachable and disappointed in me which leads me to the lies about myself. And the cycle continues, round and round and round. It taints every aspect of my life so that I don't see any experiences as he intended me to see them. I rob myself of beauty and joy. I'm almost always in inner discord and turmoil. Never fully at peace, always striving.
Don't get me wrong, there are times when I unmistakably experience his love and grace. Times when I do trust him with everything in me. Times when he touches me in tangible ways to reveal his presence in my life. Times when I feel we are friends in a lifelong conversation. There are even times when I feel romanced by him. But these times don't even come close to adding up to the number of times when I don't, when I feel his absence and distance.
Because, as I have shared before, my relationship with my earthly father is vastly different than the one we shared while I was growing up, it worries me that the one I have with my heavenly father is still so damaged. I am sometimes worried that somehow my heart is too hard for him to soften it. Will it ever be pliable again? Is that possible? Will I ever be able to take these glasses off and see Papa/Jesus/Sarayu, instead of a G.O.D. that only exists in my mind?
I know the truth. I know that he does love me and is especially fond of me. I know that I alone would have been enough for him to go to the cross. I know somewhere within me that I am chosen and beloved. But that's not enough for me. I want to feel it too. I need to feel it. I need this heart-level knowing to be the lens through which I view his world; a world which he has shared his burden for with me. I desperately need to take off the glasses that I've grown so accustomed to and discard them, break them, throw them away. I need to have my theology match my reality.
Does your theology match your reality?
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