So my latest blog post was one of hope. One of revelation. This revelation has brought me so much hope, so much peace in the turmoil. After what seems an eternity of silence from God, I have heard His voice. And though it wasn’t in the supernatural, miraculous way I have been hoping for, I know He cares enough to speak, convict, and encourage. And though I have known this in a theological sense, He has turned this knowledge from something theological into something experientially relevant. God spoke to me. This I know. And from this I draw comfort. More comfort than I could ever find in my tears or my songs or my nearly hopeless worship.

But I am still faced with a dilemma. Just because God has spoken does not change me from the dark, brooding person I am. I almost expected it to. I wanted it to. I don’t want to be dark. I want to be like everyone else. I want to feel joy and happiness. And this is the first time I can say this with complete honesty. I do want to be happy.  I want to be like my friend Annika Sholander, or Dan Sidelecki, or any number of the wonderful people around me. They’re so full of life and joy. They fit in with people so well. They know how to talk with people. They know how to worship in a group setting. They know how to sing songs like David Crowder’s “Oh How He Loves” and mean it, making it more than just an old clichéd song. I don’t.

I’m at fall retreat with CRU at a place called Camp Henry. Tonight is the first night of the retreat. Brian “something or other” (I can’t remember his last name.) is the speaker. The sermon he gave this evening was on Romans 6: 1-14. I really felt encouraged by what he had to say. Unfortunately, while I was still trying to think over it all, and take it all in, the worship started up again, and I lost my train of thought. Fortunately, though, in a moment of rare inspiration, I took notes.

So now let me try to recreate what I gathered from the sermon.

Now, if you’ve read my old blog posts on my BlogSpot, You’ll know that I have trouble worshiping in your standard worship setting. Songs by people like Crowder, Hillsong, and Tomlin don’t cut it for me. They don’t do squat for me. I hear it and I’m like, “Yeah, ok. God is holy. I think we’ve said that only a thousand times. How ’bout we actually worship Him rather than continually reiterating His holiness.” I mean, that’s just me, and I know that many people really can worship God with that kinda music. But I don’t get it. I see other people totally engrossed in worship of our God, and I just can’t go there.

Because of this, I often feel like what Michael Card refers to as “A second class spiritual citizen.” I feel constantly out of place. I feel like music is used so much today as a way of connection with God. I don’t really feel close to God when I sing worship songs. I feel close when I pray. And since nearly all of my songs, and all of the songs I love, are prayers, I can feel close to God when singing them. Because I’m praying. I’m talking to God.

But it seems to me that no one else gets this. I feel like the odd man out. And now I remember why I created the false identity for myself that I spoke of in my previous blog post- I don’t want to be the odd guy out. I created a lone wolf, need-nobody, attitude. Or as Lacey Sturm puts it, “and orphan heart.”

So tonight, when Brian- drawing off of Romans 6:1-14- said, “In God’s eyes, you have been crucified, buried, and raised just as much as Christ was,” my response was, “If that’s the case, then why do I feel trapped somewhere between death and the grave?”

And I thought it would end there. I thought I would be stuck like I had been so many times before, trapped with the question, and having received no answer.

But he went on. And drawing off of the same set of verses, he said, in essence, the following:

     Death will change all of this. We will be free from the remnants of the old self- To live as a Christian means to live in constant remembrance of this fact. We live In Remembrance not only of what Christ has done for us, but also in remembrance of what that means for us.

Regardless of what you struggle with, you can live in confidence and hope. You can live in joy and peace, knowing that even though this sinful flesh will tempt you and you will fall and fail occasionally, you can still live as free. For when we die, this flesh will die and with it the temptations we face. We will be free of sin once and for all.

I had a blog post back on my Blogger account that spoke of how I find my hope in the fact that one day I will die. But when I wrote that, I wasn’t sure how to live my life in that hope. I feel like tonight has given me the first step. I hope it can encourage you.

And I feel like I butchered that explanation. Maybe I’ll be able to write a more eloquent blog post on the same topic later.

Hopefully more to come in the next couple days…

~Josh