Belief Is Not A Feeling

Our belief is not a warm, fuzzy feeling in our hearts. When we are redeemed and are adopted as children as God, we can experience a spiritual high. Our hearts are changed and we feel the weight of our sin. But, when we ask for forgiveness, we feel a feeling of utter joy and contentment. It can last for weeks or even months for some. Then, something happens. Life smacks us in the face and suddenly we've lost our job, a friend, a home, or even a loved one. It doesn't even have to be as traumatic as that to make us come crashing down in to a sense of loneliness and loss. It can be a bad day, something someone said, or a doubt you have.

No matter what way it happens, there does come a time when our spiritual high deflates and we're left with a hollow feeling in our heart Or, at least, we think we're hollow. We'd have that uplifting feeling and spirit of hope all the time if we weren't, right?

Only a few months ago, I would stand in church and watch as other people closed their eyes and raised there hands up toward the ceiling as they sang. I could see their passion and love for Christ in the way they weren't ashamed to raise their arms and sing. They weren't just reading words off a projected screen, they were praising their God in heaven. I wish I had that passion and those feelings. I can't raise my hands and close my eyes, say "amen" during the sermon, or pray out loud and alone during bible study.

If I did those things, I would feel embarrassed or silly. I have never really felt a lasting feeling of the warm and fuzzies like people talk about. I hear people say all the time about how they just felt a sense of peace in their hearts or had a spiritual revelation or felt God's presence.

This made me feel lost and confused. I would cry on my knees in prayer, crying to the Lord to give me some sort of sign and supernatural peace that would make me like the other Christians. I would ask for forgiveness of my sins every week in church and beg the Lord to make me be his child. Then, as soon as I got home, I would feel the same again.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago I heard this, "Shelby, belief is not a feeling." If only I had heard that a few years earlier. It's changing the way I think about Christianity and is causing me to be more confident in my faith.

We don't have to have these feelings to be able to believe. Believing means doing what God's Word says even when we don't feel like it or don't understand. Believing is praying even when it feels like we are alone and no one is listening. Believing means thinking of others more than yourselves. Believing means digging deeper into the Bible and reading it everyday even when we don't feel like it. Believing means singing in church and focusing your mind on Jesus and the perfect man he was on this earth, instead of what you're going to do after church when you get home.

Belief is action, it is not a feeling. Feelings come after the actions. It's a benefit of doing the work of believing. I was a Christian that was trying to live off of feelings and emotions, and I ended up a lost and nearly starved soul. Our lost hearts believe we live by feeling. That's what culture tells us.

If you are struggling in your belief, know that you are not alone and God is there. If you obey him and lay aside every weight that's holding you down, you will feel relief. It doesn't come right away. It might only be the assurance of knowing that we no longer have to be controlled and tossed to and fro by emotions. But, it is still there. The seed he planted in you when you first had your heart opened up to your sin will grow. It will hurt as the roots tear through your old self, past the unbelief and doubts and past the pain of the past. It will hurt to grow and it will not be a fast growth. But, when you look back and see how far you've come, the flower will bloom. You will see the light.

Belief is not a feeling, it is an action. The feeling comes after obedience. Trust. Obey. Then, watch the flower bloom.

Sacrifice

Life is hard.

I know I've started a blog post with that same sentence before, but it's true.

It's hard, it's messy, it's sad.

This isn't going to be a post about depression, but it's going to be real.

When I turned 18, I thought I would be somewhere totally different than where I am now.

I thought I would have things figured out.

I thought I'd be much more confident.

I thought I'd be really fit.

Things have a way of turning out much differently than you think. Is that God at work? I believe so.

Instead, I find myself:

Asking who I am just like the girls in all those Disney films.

Questioning my Faith.

Stressing about what I'm going to DO in life. I'm not where I thought I would be and I'm not WHO I thought I would be. 

I'm broken. 

I'm confused.

I finally broke down to my Dad and told him how I felt. I told him I didn't want my Faith like this anymore, tossing to and fro. I wanted a steady Faith like his, to be confident in knowing WHO I am and WHAT I was made to do. A Faith like armor that blocks the arrows of doubt and depression and worry. I didn't want a Faith that only swelled when listening to generic Christian music then deflated when I was faced with a hard decision or day. I want a Faith that BURNS with passion for our God.

That does not doubt, that never forgets God's grace and Jesus sacrifice.

A few weeks ago, our Pastor was talking about boredom in his sermon. He said, "If you're ever bored, contemplate the cross."

A man went through hell for us.

Not just physically, but spiritually too. He faced the wrath of God so we wouldn't have to. He carried my sin on his bruised and beaten shoulders. He carried your sin too. There were nails driven through his hands and feet, crushing their bones like splinters. There was a crown of thorns piercing his brow. There must have been blood dripping into his eyes. He must have been fighting for every crushed breath. He endeared the unimaginable agony and shame of being slowly killed in front of dozens of mocking people.

Think about the mental pain. the thousands and millions of sins suddenly thrust upon him. Think about when you've sinned, how it eats up your insides and you just feel . . . sick. You feel ugly. Well, our Lord carried that sin. All of it. All of my sin, all of your sin, and all the sins of His chosen people.

Then, it happened. God turned his face away from him. The earth cracked and the curtain tore. All was dark. And for one moment, the earth saw a fraction of God's wrath.

Then, I realized something.

I was there.

I was with the mockers who stood before the cross.

I was with the soldier who stood before the cross with questions spinning through His mind.

Who is this man?

Then, he died.

Here I am talking about my problems and how stressed I am and how broken I am and how depressed I am when the Son of our Lord and creator died on a cross with every. single. sin I have and ever will commit on his shoulders.

Why would he want to save ME?

I used to be among the mockers, the questioners. I was among those who wept for their Savior and those who wept because they knew it was not right. It was not Just.

Why would he want to save a girl who constantly questions if He is really there? Who constantly complains about her life and worries about what she will do? Who constantly complains about how she looks and how she will never be good enough?

I am not worthy.

I never will be.

But, God says no.

He says I am worthy.

Jesus opens the locked door of the dark room I have hidden myself in. He looks over the walls of this room and sees the thousands upon thousands of wicked thoughts and deeds and scars and scratches and cracks and blemishes covering every inch of the surrounding walls. He takes the sleeve of His perfect, spotless, shining rob and beings to wipe away the dripping, black, ugly words and marks on the wall.

Black ink begins to stain His clothing.

"Lord, no! Please, don't do this! I am too ugly to be saved. I have sinned too much. I have thought too many ugly things. I have doubted for too lo-"

"No,"

"But, Lord-"

"Shelby, you are mine."

"Lord, you can-"

"Shelby, your sins are mine. You are free."

The once dark and scribbled walls are now clear. His robe is stained with my sins.

My ugly sins.

But, he points toward the door and it is open. Light leaks through, warming my cold blood, bringing life to my frozen limbs.

I am free.

Yes, I am broken. I have let myself be trapped in a pit of my own sin and doubts. I have seen how self centered I am, how I could not stand on my own righteousness when that day comes.

But, God.

"But, God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ" (Ephesians 2:4-5)

Sometimes it's hard for us who have been raised in a Christian home to understand this. We've grown up with these verses, maybe even memorized them. It's hard to believe it. It's hard to see it.

Contemplate the cross.

Think about the room you were once trapped in yourself.

Think of Jesus,

Our troubles pale in comparison to the ultimate sacrifice He made.

Look up and see His light, see the open door, see the walls that were once covered in your sin made clean by His blood.

You are free.