I grew up under the rather Puritanical mindset and teaching that life is miserable, and you had better just start getting used to that now. In classical fashion, my first growth beyond that mindset was rebellion against the bitterness and anger that so filled the people who accepted that mindset. Being angry at anger doesn’t solve anything, but sometimes it is our first step in waking up.
It’s still a struggle for me, though. That’s why I’m writing here under pseudonym. The people I grew up with would still be quick to tear all of this apart as “too optimistic” and “naive” and even “delusional.” Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes I think people stay in the darkness because it seems safer. If we already expect the worst, we can’t be let down. And so they proclaim this darkness as “truth,” but it’s a self confirming bias. If you only take note of all the horrible and dark things that happen, than it certainly seems like “truth” is that life is made up only out of horrible dark things. These dark-livings then loudly proclaim that they have the truth, that everyone else is too childish to deal with. Maybe. Maybe not.
Even if we were to grant the dark-livings that they have the truth, or a portion of it, even, there is still this: But now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; and the greatest of these is love. And truth didn’t make the list. And if you put truth in the same category of fathoming all mysteries and knowledge (which I think is how the dark-livings are using the word truth, in that instance), then it gets the slam that it’s worth nothing without love. And love, we have plastered everywhere to the point that further words on it are at the moment rather unmeaningful, ought to be casting out the darkness.
But setting aside that worn path, what about faith and hope? The dark-livings would say that “if in this life only we have hope, we of all men are to be most pitied!” clearly implies that there’s NO hope for this life. It’s only in the ever-after that that there is hope, or fruit from faithfulness.
And there I part. There are a lot of hard and horrible things in life, and that I do not argue with at all. But they abide. Faith, hope and love. Now AND later. Some times you read about or witness or go through yourself some hard and horrible things that seem to be so pointless and endless. Other times, hard and horrible things and yet you can see the faith and hope and love shining through the absolute shit (in it’s literal meaning). If we are not the ones called to faith and hope in middle of all the darkness, who is?
So Faith is here. Hope is here. That is still hard for me to understand. I don’t think that hope means getting everything you want. But it has to mean something. And I think of the pillar of light leading the Israelites. Not everything was light. But there was that pillar, and it was bright. You have to have faith, though, or else you won’t follow it. The pillar of light goes wandering off, and you stay put, gritting your teeth for the darkness, now that the light is gone.
I’m not trying to imply there aren’t times when it seems like all goes dark and the veil is rent, and that is all. What I am saying is, when we do see light, do we shield ourselves from it, and from what it might mean? Or do we follow the light in faith and hope?
It’s easy to say the second. Not so easy when you have lived or seen others live through being so happy to see what looks like light, and then having their hopes dashed. What do you say? My faith is better than yours, so the hope that I have won’t be disappointed? That’s why this is such a hard topic for me to write about. How can you claim hope for yourself when you know other people have hoped and seen no fruit from that hoping?
And that’s where the anger and the bitterness come from. I understand that a little better now that I did before. But I still don’t think it’s right. We are no where called to be angry and bitter. So understandable or not, we have to reject the mindsets that inevitably lead us there: they aren’t really truth, in it’s ultimate sense. They can’t be.
Understanding the hurt that can and does exist can make us more fearful and doubtful of both faith and hope and even love. Yet even a fool can see that the greatest faith and hope and love is that which has withstood the greatest fears and the deepest darkness. So it cannot be naivete that causes us to stumble after the light, but rather courage.
I read the works of Emily P. Freeman once, and to paraphrase, she was putting forth that sometimes God uses both our human limits and our deep-seated desires to guide us, to actually lead us into what He had prepared for us to do. This both at once had the sense of being very liberating and a ring of truth, and also, completely against everything I have ever known. You fight and wrestle with human limitations. You are always called upward and onward toward more. You are never enough and must always keep striving. And you should put to death any of your desires for pleasant things, which you wouldn’t get anyways, and besides you don’t really need them, and besides, it’s probably just your fallen nature seeking after things you shouldn’t really be wanting anyhow.
Not that there’s any bitterness there at all or anything.
The thing is, it seems to me, a lot of darkness-living people are doing a lot more gritting of their teeth than they are praying. Not even asking for things is different than respecting the authority of God to have a better understanding than you of what is good. The darkness-living winds up being a lot more like the un-prodigal son, who is mad he never got to have party, even though he never asked. Or like the miserly servant who refused to do anything with his talent because it would all be taken away from him anyway.
And asking is different than setting an ultimatum. One of the most wondrous passages I’ve ever read is when it says that those who seek Him will find Him. And it seems to me that if we are finding Him, then we are finding His will. And it seems to me that part of seeking is asking. So if you have this desire in your heart, how do you know if it something you should be following up on or not, unless you ask?
And if you keep asking for clarity and direction and understanding and discernment, and the same thoughts keep coming up again and again, at what point do you allow that maybe the desire is the answer?
I don’t know the answer to that. But it does seem to me that the important step there is the seeking and the praying about it. Only you won’t ever do that if every time the thing that you want pops up, you stuff it back down because it’s obviously too good to be true. And if you accept the teaching that life is all about not having what you want and always learning to live with doing things you don’t like and are hard for you, then you don’t ask.
I have sometimes seen this line of thinking shortened down to “the desire is the answer.” That I do not mean. That implies that you wouldn’t be wanting anything, unless it was God’s will to give it to you, and I don’t agree with that at all. But what I have found is that instead of feeling frustrated and angry when the minute I get a free moment, my thoughts invariably fall toward some of the same old familiar topics and themes, what I should really do is take it seriously. Think about it. Pray about it, very specifically. And be at peace that if it stays, you keep praying about it. And if it goes, you got another kind of answer.
But it staying is a kind of an answer. You can’t really in good conscience pretend something isn’t important when the same thing keeps coming up over the course of your whole life. Even if it is what looks good to you. It’s real. It’s important. It deserves prayer. It shouldn’t be dismissed. It should be treated with faith and with hope even more than it should be treated with logic and rational thought and emotion. God is still leading, sometimes with a pillar of cloud, and sometimes with a pillar of light.