Everytime I hear about someone who has walked away from this thing we call living with Jesus, walking in his ways and trusting that there is more than this, I find myself sent into a spin of analysis. I wonder what drove them too it, how God could let them go, how these things work at all. I find myself asking the questions again, asking what makes me stick this storm out, what holds me here? Is it just the way I’ve been brought up? Is it because this is my job? Is it because I’d be out of money and friends if I turned from it all? The questions are loud, and maybe they should be. Maybe we should ask these things instead of taking on the beliefs of all around us, maybe we should shout out, question, search, and ask the why at the heart of it all.
But the doubts are to be contained in the corner of my mind, left to sit for a while, not entertained, not fed, not drawn into unbelief, hard heartedness or rejection. The thing is, in the wondering on others lives, I am not expected to live as others do, in the face of all this the one who stepped into time and space gently lifts my head, gazes into my eyes and asks. “What about you? Do you want to leave too?” The answer remains the same. “Lord to whom shall we go?”. The gaze is a gaze of love, of knowledge. I’ll stick with the Maker, because he really knows, because the old story of the cross, the cup and the hill is still true and because he sticks with me. The questions need to be faced, but the loving eyes of my Maker also need to be sought. There is more than this.
I’ve quoted this before but it remains brilliant:
“And laments have a purpose and laments have a cost
A requim playing gathers the lost
It sometimes tastes sour, the sweetness of hope
When the blizzards are raging on this lovers slope
Yet I don’t want to freeze inside or out
For it’s you that disolves the cold walls of doubt.
So turn me tender again
Fold me into you
Turn me tender again
And mould me to new
Faith lost it’s promise
And bruised me deep blue
Turn me tender again
Through union with you.”