What does it say about the times we live in that I’m hesitant to confess myself a Christian? It isn’t that I’m ashamed of my Lord Jesus Christ. I’m not. I’m ashamed, instead, of those who are touting themselves as Christians, yet have no spiritual fruit hanging on their vines. Even worse, I have to assess daily whether I am becoming one of them. It is …. exhausting.
Sadly, almost every horrible, unholy act I’ve experienced has been at the hands of a professing Christian. I wish there were some way to discern between those who profess their obedience to God’s word while disobeying every commandment, as opposed to those who actually live it quietly, allowing their voices to remain silent while their fruit speaks for itself.
I find the real Laborers of the Harvest tend to downplay their worthiness, while those who only use God as a social tool tend to up-play their part in His Kingdom. They ride triumphantly on the praise of others, yet forget that they are fallen creatures like the rest of us. More importantly, I must assess my spiritual inventory daily to make sure I am not falling into a hypocritical, false belief in my own adherence to God’s laws. I praise God daily that He has given my a check in those around me. I want to be a sincere follower, not simply surface, but devout.
What an exhausting world we live in now. I admit, I’m looking forward to things being put spiritually correct.
Three years ago today, I wrote a post called Satan’s Favorite Drug Ever – Meth. Each year WordPress gives me a little run-down about how my most popular post ever is doing. Maybe this is okay for some kinds of posts, but each year, when I get the notification congratulating me on having such a landmark post, I feel sad. The numbers of people looking for help because of meth are staggering when you take into consideration, I’m no big deal on the subject. My blog doesn’t rank in the top 2 or 3 pages of Google results, nor have I dedicated this space to talk about drugs in any depth at all. And yet, people write me all the time about losing someone, (or themselves), to this drug.
This year was particularly sobering. Here is a snapshot of the dramatic incline in the number of people who have visited this horrific description of just how my marriage was destroyed:
Sadly, we still have the rest of November and all of December to go.
If this post is any indicator, we as a country are spiraling into a chemical abyss.
Not a day goes by that I don’t miss Chef, the way he used to be. I miss how he used to talk, smile, laugh… Even since he became sober again, he never has looked the same to me. Things are different — how he looks physically; how he speaks; what he cares about now. This drug truly is a game-changer.
Every writer hopes they get to write something people will care about. I’m just kind of sad that this kind of thing was my contribution.