Isolation and doubt are consuming states of mind.
They are demanding, dangerous and destructive.
I just returned from Glorieta, New Mexico, where I spent nearly a week in awe of God's majestic mountains, heavenly temperatures and vast adventures. I built new friendships and solidified old ones. I saw the work of God's hand in the camp, in my friends and in myself. I was overcome by weariness, mostly, but an inextinguishable joy also consumed me. God's beauty in nature overwhelmed my heart, and His knowledge further revealed His love.
However, this was a completely different mindset and approach than I had in the spring semester. I was burned out and restless. Exhaustion was overcoming me, and I gave in. I started to be consumed by negative thoughts, many I had created with no evidence. I retreated, and became isolated. The longer I avoided people and fellowship, the more my faith wavered and I began to doubt.
I doubted God's sovereignty, and I failed to dwell on His good or mercy.
I was consumed by my negativity and uncertainty began to override every decision I made. I was centered around gossip and disapproving conversations. My antagonism became a defense and an identity that defined my actions, words and ministry. I was captive to my heavy heart.
This was a dangerous place to be. I knew this, but I continued to proceed. I was trapped in sadness, trapped in darkness. Every negative thought bred a den of hostility.
This behavior, though noticeably selfish, proved to be ultimately destructive. My selfishness had created a wall between myself and other believers. It damaged relationships and I knew others were being hurt.
The trouble with me knowing all of these things was that, although I was convicted of my sin, I was unready and unwilling to recognize my shortcomings. My thoughts and words had no action. My knowing only held me accountable that much more and proved as a testament to my disobedience.
The speaker this week at Glorieta, Timothy Ateek, spoke on desire and initiative to change. He repeated the question from John 5:6, "Do you want to be healed?" My initial reaction was, "Yes! Of course I want to be healed!" But, then I was worried about the fear and uncertainty that I was ready for such a sacrifice.
I wondered if it was possible to not want to be happy. I'd become so complacent and comfortable in my negativity that I couldn't even entertain the thought of change. I was so saturated in my sadness that I counted it as abnormal or strange if I experienced joy or happiness throughout the course of the day. Somehow, my negative thoughts were comforting to me.
This week, I was convinced and encouraged to hope and desire. I wanted to be free of the chains and hindrances of my unhappiness. I craved joy. A joy that is found in Christ alone.
The Bible does not promise that the road ahead will be easy for me, but it does say that God will never forsake me. There is promise and hope in the future with Christ. I want to rejoice and be glad in the Father.
I want to take action. I want to be intentional with my time, words, and actions this semester. I want to be victorious in times of trouble and doubt. I want my thoughts to be consumed by the spirit and renewed with each passing day. I choose happiness over contentment.