I grew up in the Church of Christ. I don't know if my love of checklists came from this formative experience, or if it was already ingrained within me, and the CoC just knew how to exasperate it. And exasperate it did. Relying heavily on its Catholic roots (though they'd be loathe to admit it), the Church of Christ lives for its checklists. Checklist Christianity is a comforting thing. What do I need to do to be saved? Believe, confess, be baptized--check. What do I need to do to be a good Christian? Go to church, be nice, read the Bible, pray--check. But, this checklist system of belief has a major flaw. It lacks substance. It lacks meaning. And when doubt comes into play, it just doesn't hold up.
I was thinking about this a couple days after I went to that prayer service. My soul was hurting, and I didn't know how to help it. I kept coming back to this one question: If God is so good, why has He waited so long to return? And the question underlying that one, the question that I just could not voice: Has God forgotten us?
A checklist could not help me with this. Previously, I had lived my entire spiritual life with the confidence and bravado of a five year-old who is certain she can fly. This one experience, however, shook that faith and cape right off me.
I didn't understand why I felt so lost. I had grown up with a strong foundation. My parents were (and still are) the most encouraging and precious examples of faithfulness. Yet, I felt unsettled. God was still with me, but He seemed far away. And I was struggling. I knew He existed, I could feel it like an anchor to my soul, holding me down in the midst of a hurricane. But the winds of anger and frustration were building up as I grappled with the "why?".
Then a couple things happened.
I was driving to work one day when I decided to listen to a podcast by Monte Cox. There wasn't a real reason I put it on, other than my 45 minute commute and I was tired of listening to Cee-Lo for the fiftieth time. Dr. Cox is one of those people that when you meet him, you know you've met one of God's favorites. I was blessed to have him as a professor a few times at Harding, and can say, without a doubt, that he is filled with the Holy Spirit's wisdom and love. It practically oozes out of him.
The sermon series was talking about modernism and post-modernism. And while it was a lot more intelligent than the Justin Timberlake lyrics I normally listen to, it's underlying point was prolific, God-breathed, and most needed. Christianity, he said, is not about rules and regulations. It's not about the checklists we confine it to, but the relationship we build. It's personal. It's relational.
This was no big news to me. Of course, relationships have always been important to me. But, thinking about it, my relationship with God had never before looked like my relationship with my friends. It wasn't this deep connection where I would spend hours upon hours talking to Him, spilling my guts over milkshakes and Funyuns. It was more formal than that. More stilted. And I started to realize that maybe I felt far away from God because I was. Because I was keeping him there, on paper, on my list, to be checked off every Sunday morning.
I thought about this more and more as I began to rework our relationship. I felt like I was relearning how to walk. My new prayers sounded very timid---was God alright with me talking to Him if I was doubting Him? But I knew I had to keep talking. So I did.
It was amazing to hear what He said back...
"Shout for joy, you heavens; rejoice, you earth; burst into song, you mountains! For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on his afflicted ones. But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me.” Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." Isaiah 49:13-16
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