Sometimes it seems like the people that have, in the past, believed the most earnestly in the mission, are the same ones who jump ship so quickly when it gets rough.

That can make it hard to perservere, but my faith isn’t in a sinner’s ability to be holy and carry on the fight, but in a God who promises “that he who began a good work in [me] will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”

I hate struggling with sin. I wish I could just turn my sin off like a light switch, but the truth is, I can’t. And no matter how strongly I believe that I have mastered my sin, it lies behind the well built facade that I live out and begs for attention.

It is sometimes just as difficult to watch others struggle with, or in some cases surrender to, their sin.  It is hard to watch someone destroy all that God has built in and around them for fleeting moment of happiness.

In my better moments I want to strangle the version of me that is enslaved to sin.  I just want to yell at him, “look at all of the blessings that you have, don’t you get it?  You have everything you need and most things you want, but your ridiculous actions are robbing you of the joy that those blessings bring.  And for what? Being a little numb to the world for a few minutes? You are a joke, man.” But the shame of it is that, while living in my sin, I cannot see the destructive power of it. In those moments I don’t recognize the devastating consequences of my actions.

I see this in others too. I see their blindness to the light. And I just want to shake them and say “wake up, God has better plans for you.”

It is hard to watch.

I feel like Trinity from the Matrix. She tells Neo “You’ve been down there, Neo. You already know that road. You know exactly where it ends. And I know that’s not where you want to be.”

But no matter what I do, or how passionately I plead, it is still their choice. And sometimes all you can do is watch, pray, and wait for God’s humbling.

Oh, how I long for that day that God will flip that switch and give me a new body that is not broken under the weight of sin and is not bent toward anything but Godliness.  And how I long for that to be true in the lives of all of those I love.

Maybe this says a lot more about me than I want to share, but this is a blog about my thoughts, so at least it’s real.

This past weekend my wife and I watched a movie that I knew very little about and didn’t have any real longing to see, but since I have netflix and it costs so little to watch a movie that I otherwise wouldn’t spend money to rent, we watched the movie Mr. Brooks.  It stars Kevin Costner as a serial killer who struggles with a “hunger” to kill and a desire not to.   I thought the movie was great, in a rather disturbing kind of way, and I would recommend it, if only for the reason I talk about below.  (Spoiler Alert)

It is a brutal movie and not something that I usually enjoy, but I was struck by the main character’s fight with his alter ego about his killing.  Mr. Brooks did not want to kill.  He had given it up for his family and tried treating his “hunger” for murder by attending Alcoholics Anonymous and proclaiming that “I am an addict”.  He had gone a number of years without killing by modifying his behavior and successfully ignoring the voice in his head that wanted to kill again.

But Marshall, the voice in his head, did not go away.  He kept pesetering him, tempting him to kill to feed his “hunger”.   And no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the voice would not be silent and Mr. Brooks gave in again.

I am no serial killer, but I feel like Mr. Brooks every now and again.  I feel the weight of his hunger.  I feel the pain that is a hunger for things that I don’t want, a hunger for things that I thought I no longer had an appetite for.  But a hunger that comes back to haunt me until I no longer have a desire to ignore it.

I am not sympathetic to serial killers, but I am sympathetic to those who, like Mr. Brooks and Mr. Wright, struggle with sins they thought were beaten, but come back to haunt them. That’s why I am so thankful for grace, because it sticks with me even when obedience doesn’t.

Think about how easy it must have been to be Adam or Eve.  They had everything.  Every moment of their experience was bliss.  There were no arguments or wars, no pollution or sickness, no pain and no suffering.  Just love and joy and God. 

They had everything they needed, but still they wanted more.  All of the blessings and all of the joy that comes from a relationship unhindered by the effect of sin was theirs to be had, but they threw it all away for a piece of fruit.

But it wasn’t just fruit they were after, but in fact, it was equality with God that Satan promised them that they desired.  For as long as they had lived, God had provided for and blessed them.  They had no reason to doubt Him or His promises but they threw away paradise and walked away from the Truth to trust the father of lies.

I find myself in this position regularly.  I am abundantly blessed by God, but even in the garden of blessings that He has put me in, I search for a way to be my own god.  In these moments I am convinced that God does not know what I need and he certainly doesn’t give me what I want.  So I go looking for it on my own.  Sometimes a serpent is there to great me and sometimes I walk alone, too close to the thing that I know I want, while pretending that it is the very thing I am running from.  And so I throw away, or at the very least treat as rubbish, the things that God has given me for the momentary pleasure of the fruit that kills.

Oh how I wish that I could be obedient and love it. How I wish that I could trust God and take pleasure in His blessings and flee from the wickedness that I so often find myself tangled in.  How I wish that I would not walk near that tree or think about its fruit.  And, how I wish that I would spend my time on the other side of the garden where there is nothing but love and joy and God.

But more than anything, I wish that I could just set fire to that tree and burn up all of its wicked fruit so that I would not be tempted.  But therein lies the problem.  It’s not the tree that tempts me or some creeping serpent, but it is me.  It is my nature.  Just as my body desires oxygen so my wicked heart desires what is wicked.

God, please help me kill what is wicked in me and what seeks not the satisfaction and pleasure that is found in you, but seeks what only leads to death.  And one day when that tree has been burned down and the desire for it in me has been conquered, and your plan is complete, please let me eat of the fruit the tree of life.