I have been a legalist.

I have been a legalist.

There, I said it.

Renewing is hard. Because letting go of what I think is true is hard. There are things I know to be true, and things I think to be true. And they are in constant conflict. One would believe that, obviously, the things I know to be true would win out, but no. It’s not so obvious. Because it doesn’t happen that way. I have lived so long believing that I have to try, and try, and try to do things the “right” way, the “proper” way, the “only” way, that I don’t actually know what the real right, proper, and only way is like. I cannot even begin to imagine it. I have an idea of what it should look like. So I try, and try, and try to make myself look like that. But no matter how I try, I can only look like the outside if I do that. It’s like taking a grape, coloring it with a blue marker, and saying that it is now a blueberry. It may kind of resemble a blueberry, sort of. But no matter how blue it looks, it is not a blueberry. No matter how hard I try to make myself look like what I think “right” looks like, it will not be right. Because “right” doesn’t start with what things look like. It starts inside and ends up on the outside. Not the other way around.

I have constant Fear, Stress, and Anxiety about what will happen to me if I do not do things “right.” And when I know I have failed, Failure rears its head and Shame reminds me how wrong I am, and how wrong I was to try and do it on my own. Shame reminds me that I am human and should be relying on God to do it for me, but I didn’t, and now boy didn’t I mess it all up. Now God has to deal with the mess I made. I guess I am a baby, after all. I always hoped I was past that, and that I was growing up. All I’ve ever wanted was to just grow up in one go and get it over with. So I try. And try, and try, and try. And fail, and fail, and fail. And yet I cannot seem to just trust in God. I know that I will fail before I try. I’ve been down that path before. It is as though I believe that He died and took care of that part, but the rest is just up to me. As though He didn’t really mean it when He said that HE would finish the work He started in me. I dislike having to capitalize the word He in the middle of a sentence. I know why it is, to show respect and divinity. And then I feel Guilt for being annoyed with it. Guilt turns to Shame, and suddenly, I am a bad person for being annoyed with something I should do. I do not know how to reconcile all these things together. And the not understanding is what nearly kills me, day after day. Not understanding means I have to trust…someone. And I do not trust. Trust means leaving it up to someone else. And people are unreliable. People will hurt you. People will leave and not finish what they started, they will reject you, and they will fail. Not understanding means trusting that someone else does, and letting them be in charge, be in control.

Revolutionary, that. Such a simple idea can become so complicated when you input that little word: control. Do I trust God to be able to control circumstances in my life that seem beyond control? Do I trust Him to not leave me, to not reject me, to not hurt me, and to not fail? Love never fails. God is love. The logical conclusion is therefore that God never fails. I took logic. I can recognize it when I see it. But I am not very logical, obviously. God never fails, but I do not trust Him to never fail. That doesn’t even make sense. I see Him doing things for other people, and not failing them, but I disregard it in my own mind. I make myself the exception. How incredibly self-centered. What if He decides that I’m not worth saving/helping/notfailing? All He wants me to do is sit, and rest. He will take care of me. Like at holidays, when the ladies go into the kitchen and spend the day preparing food, and setting the table, and the kids and the gents just relax, knowing that when they are hungry, food will be there. Those times are hard for me. I feel a pressing need to make sure that no one needs help. I know that no one expects me to do it all, but maybe, maybe someone needs something. Is my desire to be accepted so strong that I reject the opportunity for peace? I am already accepted. Now rest should come, while I allow the work to be done for/through/in me. And when I require it, it will be there.

Rest. Trust. Love. Peace.

Words I don’t understand.

Sleep, sleep I do understand. And that is where I will go, now.

There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.