With only 2 other notable times, this summer has been one of the worst times of my life. Overly dramatic? Perhaps. But that certainly feels like an accurate description. It started with a shocking realization that I don't know (or couldn't remember how to) love Jesus. Love people? No prob (relatively speaking). Then it morphed into an uncertainty of my purpose in God's story. Which then became a significant mantra of doubt in the church as a whole. What is the purpose of the Gospel? of the story of Jesus? How does it actually change people? And why does it matter that I've given my life to it? These deeply scary questions have led to wonderings about orthodoxy and theology - how do I know who is right? If believing in the death and resurrection of Jesus is the base-line, does it matter, truly matter, what we believe about the rapture? about new revelation? about dancing and smoking? And if I don't know what I believe or why I believe it, do I even love God at all? And if I don't know about my love for God, what does that say about my love for humanity, which again raises the question of my purpose and that desire to which I've given my whole life?
When you're a Bible-major/Children's minister/MDiv grad student/hope-to-be missionary, these questions scare the shit out of you.
I can't remember why I love Jesus or the joy I felt in accepting His salvation. But I also can't forget that He loves me; even if I don't know why.
And I don't know what it will take to get me back. Maybe time will heal all wounds.
Can it be next summer already please?
