My faith ebbs and flows, like most people's does.
Sometimes I'm very connected to God, at one with his will. I feel at peace that I'm on the right path, am making good decisions and am others' centered. I'm good in that place. I like that me.
Other times, not so much. I can become very introspective and selfish with my time. My mind wanders easily and I, for some reason, find myself cursing more. It's then that I usually notice that God seems far away. Not because he's left me, but because I've distanced him. That's where I am right now. Damnit.
Even at these times, though, the foundation of my faith never truly waivers. I always know that I'm a child of God. I never stop loving or believing in him, just like he never stops loving and believing in me. But instead of focusing on spiritual things at times like these, I focus on earthly things. That's when my a-muck starts running.
I'm not sure when exactly it started this time, but I became aware of the distance after Pastor Derik left our church. He was the most prolific preacher I've ever heard, bar none. Every message touched me, challenged me, interested me. He was a wise, intellectual pastor who wasn't ashamed of education or emotion or digging deep. He was a great spiritual leader for our congregation. Our new pastor is a super guy and seems like he is a good leader. But not every pastor has the same gifts. And I'm just saying, I miss Derik's gift of preaching.
My faith should not hinge on who my pastor is. My faith is my own. I'm responsible for feeding it and challenging it when I'm not getting those things at church. I know small groups would help me, but I don't have time for small groups with two toddlers, a husband, a part time job and a house to keep. I need to find some things to do or read or watch on my own, but I'm just not doing that right now.
I also get restless when warm weather finally arrives, which isn't necessarily healthy for my faith. When the weather turns colder, something in me hibernates. But when warm spring breezes start blowing in hot summer winds; it awakens that something and that something is hungry. As much as I know that there are healthier more spiritual things on which to focus, the restlessness reminds me that I'm alive. That I'm not just a robot cleaning up poopy diapers, trying to figure out what to make for dinner, and drowning in our schedules and routines. It reminds me that I'm a woman and I like that feeling.
I've been writing a lot lately, too. Not so much blogging, but writing my book or novel or whatever the hell it's becoming. And I love that. I love writing. But writing just begs for more introspection, mind wandering and, let's face it, selfishness. The actual act of writing is not something you can share with family or friends, although I've gotten help from both. Someone once said, "Writing is a very lonely business. You are totally cut off from the rest of the world, submerged in your obsessions and memories." And someone else once said, "Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named, not good."
So there you have it.
I know that I will find my way back to my close and intimate relationship with God. I always do. Because he's in me, he's my father, he made me, and I love him. But I also believe that God gave me feelings and a mind and a will for a reason. If he wanted us all to be blind mice following him thoughtlessly, he'd have made us that way. Not saying he approves of where I am right now (which only lost in my own head, nothing more dangerous than that). But I'm saying he understands. And that makes me love him even more.