And it struck me like an arrow in my chest.
I am a lukewarm Christian. One minute confident in Christ and the next minute longing to be with my past. I mean, I say I don't want to go back there, because I don't, I know what lies back there, a lot of pain, mistakes, lies and poor judgement. Yet, in the same breath, so do some of my greatest memories, my closest friends, laughter and surrounded by bright lights, zero cares and a life of freedom.
Or was it freedom?
By a long shot, it was not freedom. It was a cage, full of flashy lights, star struck stardom fever, rebellion, the desire to be someone that everyone wanted to be around, loud music, and a huge fill for my Sanguine side. Drama, the more the better, smack dab in the middle of drama. If not your own, someone else's. Secrets in dark places, and full of death. All of it. Sweetly disguised in a perfect little package, and supported by millions. If you were in it, you were living it. The dream, the American dream....one drink to the next.
Yet, most everyone I know is still there, and I walked away.
To be new. To be confident. To be independent. To be a Mother. To be a Wife. To be a friend. To be an encourager. To be a mentor. To be a pilgrim. To stand. For. Something. Something more. Anything more. Something real. Something worth believing in.
Christ Jesus.
Yet, I'm alone, most days, most weeks, most months and for many years. With my words, my thoughts, my emotions, my scripture. Being a Christ follower doesn't gather much of a crowd, unless your preaching entirely about love and how you can do what ever you want, and don't let anyone Judge you, except God, and how all your dreams will come true if you just send a donation to those praying for you.
For years I've read the word, listened to the preachers and dedicated my life to Christ in nearly everyway I knew how.
But like Peter, the rooster crowed 3 times and I realized that I'm simply a lukewarm Christian, who can't find a place in this world, in a church, a social media platform, or even with my own family. It's not that I don't have the right words, I do. I love them, but it's that I need to now stop being fed milk, the milk I relied so heavily on and learn how to eat meat.
To be doer. Not a doer as in earn your way to heaven, doer, as some would like to believe, but a doer as in whatever that looks like moving forward. For instance, perhaps when I hear the workforce gossip on a daily bases cutting each other down, perhaps I walk away instead of agreeing with my smirkey little face. Or perhaps when my mind wanders and I start to sink in life like Peter, I simply stop and set my sights back on Christ. Perhaps when someone is hurting, I stop to pray instead of worrying, or perhaps when I continually look for companionship through friends and family or social media strangers that are too busy, I simply spend time with God.
I don't know, but what I do know, is that this walk with Christ is a journey. It's not a instant fix. It's filled with ups, downs, trips, falls, bumps, bruises, sacrifices, love, grace, mercy, discipline and instruction. It reminds you on a daily bases that you need Christ...Every...Day. A walk till there are holes in the souls of your shoes, and your socks are hanging by a thread and your bare skin is finally touching the earth, because the ground you are walking on is Holy.