The prison that keeps me deceptively comfortable

Belief is the key to knowing and including God in everything you do. Unbelief, whether we realize it or not, is the key to disassociating ourselves from Him.

Unbelief, what is unbelief? Lack of trust? Ignorance of God’s love? Unwillingness to concede that God is who He says He is, and should dictate how we act?

I believe that everyone of these things makes up unbelief — each one has greatly affected how I perceive and participate with God. I believe there is nothing solid other than what I believe and act upon. Yet it shakes me to the core when God rises up to prove that He is unmoving, and I have been wrong about Him.

In so many ways I need Him to be loving and tender yet I don’t want that to come to me in such strength that He commands my attention and demands my response. I would much more easily be satisfied if He were a soft, servile deity who fits loosely around me and my plans. I think He should be like a nice blanket that keeps me warm in winter weather, or a skin that makes me appear richer or more important.

In every case it seems that I don’t believe Him at His Word and action because I want Him to only agree to my word and action. I like what I believe, I don’t like what He wants me to be, therefore I find myself recognizing the unpleasant truth that I don’t like Him as much as I would like to think and say that I do.

Every day my doubts of God present themselves anew to my attention. And every day I have a choice between them and God. One is true, and the other is merely attractive on a temporary basis. One raises me up, and the other pull me down.

God knows that I have these doubts, and He knows that they express my mental and emotional vein at the moment, but He also knows what’s of  more validity than what’s going on inside of me.

Deceit occupies me inherently, but the Truth is always waiting at the door to be invited in. Where He is anything false can no longer stand. He is infinite and what a mistake I make in permitting an inaccuracy to diminishable or reinvent Him in my mind.

When I consider how deep the distortion of God within me resides, it comes as no surprise that I must be instructed in the Truth with a life-obsessed intensity; I cannot distinguish what it means to be alive until I turn from death. My life in Christ depends upon the death-like surrender of my life in sin. The depths of one are closed off to me so long as I cling to my right to search out the depths of another. The Truth will hold me if I choose to leap from the manipulative embrace of self-interested lies when He gives me the chance.

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