Yeah I just added to it and changed the title and stuff, maybe “Faith and Doubt” suck as teaser titles. So here’s the same article, tweaked… I’m NOT sorry for teasing you.
So we learned in school, or at home, that oil and water don’t mix. Oil and vinegar can be shaken together into a lovely dressing, with Italian spices or whatever, but it separates. I like a balsamic vinaigrette myself. Damn. Now I want a salad, with maybe rolled prosciutto and salami slices, some avocado, and those fine sprouts…alfalfa? And all the vegetables. And maybe raisins or, even better, blueberries or something. And a little shredded parmesan, and fresh cracked pepper. You can have my olives, though, I don’t like those.
Somebody bring me a salad and a glass of dry white wine… make it a Pinot Grigio. Please? And an over easy egg on a bacon cheeseburger on a gently toasted bun with everything on it and some onion rings with a horseradish and cayenne pepper mayonnaise. I know, those two mix with a healthy diet like fire and ice. Or like my spiritual life thrives on faith and doubt. (Beautiful salad image is from Allrecipes.com, they are awesome.)
Faith and doubt, to me, mix together, not quite as well as oil and water. Except instead of that great italian seasoning blend that makes the salad dressing taste great, it feels a bit like gritty sandy bitter granules in between the two. And it’s not even lubricated like both oil and water, it’s just dry and harsh like sandpaper on my soul.
Faith springs from the soul, a gift from God, the knowledge and understanding that you can trust Him. Faith is encouraged when one’s prayers are obviously heard and answered. Affirmingly. Like when you’re dating, or married, your significant other says something and then works to insure whatever they say is so. “I promise to ______” And then they do “______,” you know?
Doubt springs from the same soul, the human condition, the creeping fear that you have been abandoned and forgotten by Him. Doubt is encouraged when one’s prayers are obviously being ignored, or answered negatively. And it feels like betrayal. I trusted in Him to take care of me and He let me down, repeatedly. I trusted in Him to guide me like a Good Shepherd, and He didn’t guide me down a pathway to good pastures, He let me struggle and fail and fall and eat bitterness and dust.
Doubt erodes faith, over time, like sandstorms eat rock.
My Christ-following “friends” tell me to “wait on the Lord,” or “put God first” or “maybe there’s something wrong with your heart” and then leave me thinking there’s something wrong with me. But I already freely admit the human condition. There IS something wrong with me: I’m a sinner, you pious, holier-than-thou jerks. Where did you come from? The Book of Job? Job’s friends kind of sucked. At least they stayed with him through the suffering I guess. So, “friends,” why don’t you tell me how I might achieve spiritual perfection, and write that in a book where you can make a few million and help me pay my bills. Faith only pays the bills when other people hear God prompt them to help, and actually help. I’ve met exactly ONE of those kinds of Christ followers, and he stepped in with exactly what I needed, and then disappeared like an angel of the Lord. It happened once. I never had spoken to him before, I had only prayed and asked God for what I needed.
Lately I’ve only got the kind of “friends” who say the spiritual-ese bullshit that sounds great but is less fulfilling. Which is why I don’t really retain close “fellowship” with that kind of Christ-follower. I know the advice is valid, comes out of “truth” but it doesn’t fit. Plus, shut the hell up, you’re only discouraging me. You’re only adding to the grit of the experience.
I’m waiting for a few prayer requests to get thoroughly answered, for Satan to get his ass viciously kicked straight back to hell along with a host or two of his demonic followers, and for God to prove to me again that He gives a shit about little Deon. So according to the pat answer, that’s supposed to make me stronger. The waiting, I mean. Except, I don’t feel stronger yet. But if the mountain in my life moves, then my faith will be reassured. I’m just a little under pressure with the mountains of doubt and reality crushing my soul’s ass. Does a soul have an ass? Wonder if it’s fat and God is just having me diet or something. I don’t like dieting in physical life and I like it even less if that’s the spiritual life “lesson.”
If the spiritual menu only has spiritual brussels sprouts or overcooked gross spiritual spinach, I’m starving and that shit is nasty. I think I’d like a spiritual salad with some vinaigrette, that fruity dry white wine and the cheeseburger. I’ll share. I promise.
(Beautiful cheeseburger is from Pinterest)
Does this meme make my soul look fat?