I don’t think I can explain how often I feel saddened. While the masses are saying that you shouldn’t feel sad, because that is depression, and depression is a demonic spirit, I continue to grieve. Laugh and the church laughs with you. Weep and you weep alone. I’m not depressed. I’m pained.
It seems like daily there is something new to be upset about. I learn of how a certain sect in the Baptist camp hates the Pentecostals, and how should I react to that if not with burden? I learn that much of the money given to churchianity is spent upon building funds, hipper worship, and programs/events, and why should I not be perplexed at such a thing? We spend so much money on ourselves, but we simply aren’t willing to go downtown and talk to the guy sucking from a bottle… We as men can’t keep our lust under control, and then we oppress women to say that if their jeans are too tight they are putting a stumbling block in front of us. Where is the victory over sin?
And then there is this “black church sex” thing. I have no idea what it is even about, but how that is appropriate at all cannot be explained to me. Daily I have an inescapable barrage of images and words to continue my disposition toward sadness. I was reading Ezekiel last night, and I read chapters 1-10. You tell me which sins are listed in Ezekiel that the church isn’t performing, and then we want to act like judgment isn’t coming. We’re not appointed to wrath. All the while, we continue in our systems that push God out and pull the wool over our own eyes. We continue to sleep while the devil closes in on us.
While the people down the street, or across the street, are dying in their sin, we continue to debate whether to remodel and change the carpet. And then, when someone actually cares and is burdened by such stupidity, we drug them up because they are “depressed”. Stop forcing intercessors to pop pills. They are actually united with the heart of the Father, but you are so far away from God that you don’t even recognize it.
I’m feeling in my heart the agony and anguish of heaven, and yet I’m smiling. How? Inwardly I’m lamenting, and outwardly I’m rejoicing. It seems like a paradox. While I’m singing a dirge, I’m praising the God and Father of all comfort. What is there in this walk with God that even in the midst of brokenness there is joy? Even while I groan in this body, wishing desperately for the coming of Jesus that we might be clothed with resurrection and the world might be set right again – that all things might be restored – I find myself also laughing and joking.
The perplexity is maddening, but at the same time, it is marvelous. This is life in abundance. When we can be under control of our emotions, but at the same time not suppress our emotions, that is life. Wherever you are, and whatever you’re going through, if you’ve read this far you deserve to know that I pray for you. I pray for everyone who reads this blog. Grace and peace to all of you, and thank you for reading my little rant.