It's stupid that I'm not writing more - I've got so much going on. I'm really seeing some interesting stuff related to my identity as a Christian. Friday was a "spiritual retreat" with Carmel, so I spent a lot of time in prayer. I don't think I've ever prayed as long and earnestly as I did on Friday. In some ways it was amazing. But I'm pretty sure I didn't hear from God. I've said this before, but I really think I'm at the point of total frustration. I've tried not to become complacent, and I don't think I am, but I feel disillusioned, and I don't really have the faith that God will speak to me. How can I? I mean, I think maybe God will reveal himself to me someday, but I just have very little hope left that this is the day. Maybe my whole approach or attitude is wrong, but I'm done beating myself up about that. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT I'M DOING WRONG IF YOU WON'T TELL ME? I think maybe this whole attitude of expectation or that I can demand something of God is a little off - certainly I have qualms about yelling at him. And yet this is how I feel, and I think it's better to acknowledge that and deal with it then suppress it. Anyway, the first part of my crisis with Christianity (in summary) is that I can't seem to meet with God. Period. So basically, I have no emotional/spiritual aspect to my faith. Maybe tomorrow I'll give you part 2.

Well, it's 11:44 and I have a New Testament exam in the mourning which I'm really not prepared for. I worked the late shift at my Impact placement and I got to talk for a couple hours with my boss. Now I'm thoroughly hosed, and I'm trying to decide if I can claim righteousness here or not. Ya, I was talking about important stuff, but I had a lot of time today to study in, and I was sort of procrastinating. Anyway, my frustration with God continues. I don't know about the whole baptism of the Holy Spirit thing. I'm no closer to deciding if I believe in it or not than I was in October. And that's frustrating. God, show me the truth. Seriously now. I'm tired of playing games. Let's DO THIS. God please. You know me better than I do. Am I not ready? Perhaps not - then MAKE me ready. I'm tired of being a half-assed Christian, God! Let's do this. Let's go. Please, please God, I beg you in the name of Jesus: help me. Don't let another day, another moment go by with me wavering like this. Jesus intercede for me. Spirit groan for me. Father revolutionize me. Conform me absolutely and unreservedly to your will. I beg you to take me, whatever that means, now.

Today was a good day. I did pretty good on my NT exam and I got to do a course evaluation, in which I went off on another big rant about how Carmel could be so much better (to match the rant I wrote for Christian Life class). I'll think I'll give you "part 2" quickly. You'll recall that part 1 of my spiritual crisis was a frustration with my lack of relationship with God. Part 2 is a challenge of my beliefs about the Bible. A while ago I researched an apparent discrepancy in the Gospels, where Jesus casts the demons into the heard of pigs. Matthew reports two demon possessed men, while Mark and Luke have one. I couldn't reconcile the two accounts, therefore I currently believe it to be a plain factual error in the Bible. This raises all kinds of questions for me about the infallibility and inspiration of the Bible (though some people don't seem to be bothered by it), and it should be totally destructive to my Christianity, and particularly to my interaction with scripture. And yet (and here's the weird thing) I'm not really that bugged about it. The facts that I've tried so hard to meet with God and he just hasn't showed up (this is where part 1 comes back into the picture) coupled with my apparent rejection of the infallibility of scripture should be totally crippling my Christian faith. It's a twofold attack on my mind and my heart, powerfully challenging the fundamental reasons for my faith. And yet I don't really feel challenged. Despite God's utter absence from my sensory perception, I have no real doubt of his existence or goodness, and what I claim is a heavy blow against my trust in the Bible has really not shaken the way I study it or the way that (deep down) I still believe it. If these two behemoths cannot shake my faith, what will? All this reinforces my suspicion that I am, today and forever, irrevocably, irreversibly, incontrovertibly and fundamentally a Christian. I couldn't leave if I tried, and save by some cataclysmic revelation, I could never disbelieve this stuff. I'm sure that any psychologist could come up with an easy explanation for this - perhaps all my desperate longing has brainwashed me into a hopeless state of irrational faith. Or perhaps a good God is holding on to me, and he's not going to let go. In either case, the point is that I have arrived. I am a Christian in my core. I am a reckless, foolish, hopeless Jesus Freak, and I can't get out, so the only way to go is farther up and farther in. Oh God - God of my innermost soul, God of my heart and of my mind, God inescapable and unfathomable, God transcendent and God all-present, God just around the corner, and God in my breath, God outside my perception, yet etched on my soul, great God, good God, my God, just take me, I'm yours.

The rant referred to at the beginning was one of several I dished out around this time, all of them quite vague and unsubstantial, born out of a general restlessness and dissatisfaction. I get that way sometimes. I've thought a fair bit since writing this entry about whether my conclusion (that I will always be a Christian) is true. Of course I can't answer that, but I think what I'm expressing here is largely just a feeling I had at the time that everything what falling apart and I wasn't worried. Since then there have been times when I have been worried, so this post may be an overstatement. And yet in another way I suspect I'll always be a Christian in some form or another simply because that's what I'm used to and what's easiest for me, so as long as I can do so while maintaining my intellectual honesty, I think I will always be a Christian. Oh, and the one man/two men thing is no longer a problem for me - my dear friend Lucy explained it to my satisfaction. If you're interested in the explanation you can contact either me or he.

I spent most of today playing computer games. (I'm off for holidays now.) I hope I don't do that again. I had a realization today that's kind of exciting, and kind of scary. I've been saying that I'm fed up with being a lukewarm Christian, and that I want to be totally committed at soul-level and have that reflect in everything I do. I've talked to different people (teachers mostly) and told them that I want to be pushed and challenged to be the best I can be. Today it struck me that there are two people who I'm afraid to say that to, but I need to. I'm afraid to tell them because they know me better than anyone else (it's easy to open yourself up to rebuke from someone who never sees the things in you that need rebuking) and they see my ugly side more than anyone else. I'm afraid because challenging me is their job, and I generally don't like it. I'm afraid because I don't know if I could even convince them that this is what I want, because they don't see me as the perfect, passionate man I am at school. (At least, that's the way I try to appear at school: perfect, passionate, and a man. No, maybe I'm too hard on myself. But I digress.) I'm afraid because they could abuse that authority to make me do something I really don't want to do. (Like get my driver's license.) These people, of course, are my parents. Now, I try to obey them more (though sometimes I forget that I'm trying) and I try to talk to them more (why don't I?) but this is totally on a different level. I don't think I could really say that to them right now and mean it, so I won't, but it will be said, soon. Oh God, thank you for showing me what I need to do. Now I pray that you would give me the strength to do it and help me swallow my pride and overcome my selfish laziness. Help me become the man you created me to be. Live through me Lord. Jesus make it so.

I never did ask my parents to challenge me, at least, not in so many words. I'm not sure why this seemed like such a revelation then and doesn't interest me now. Maybe because they already let me know when they think I'm out of line. Maybe I've gotten better at obeying them since I first wrote this. Or maybe I've decided that they don't really know me all that well. I suppose I've come to believe that the one person who knows me well enough to really challenge me is myself. (I'm not perfect for the job, but I'm more qualified than anyone else I know.) That being said, if you ever think I need a kick in the butt, I'd welcome your input.

Well, it's actually past midnight, so it's my Birthday, and I'm 18. Whoop-de-doo. But that doesn't matter to me right now. I'll just get to the point. I read an e-mail from a high school friend the other day and it's ringing in my ears. She's working at an AIDS hospital in Africa, eating porridge mostly, risking death, living with a hopeless, tragic situation. I hate that she's there but I'm here. I hate being so far inside my comfort zone. I hate to think that there's so, so much, or even that there's anything at all that I could possibly be doing that would push me more; that would draw me closer to God or help me serve him more. God Almighty, push me. I'm not content to sit here. I cannot tolerate anything less than total submission to you. God bring me to that point. Push me, push me and give me the passion to accept it and to crave more. I ask for challenges and hardships - not because I know I can deal with them, but because I know I can't. Bring me to that place where I am totally overwhelmed, totally worthless in my own strength, and either save me or let me fail. Either is acceptable, and far preferable to this rancid half-heartedness. God, God, my creator and knower, I hunger for your total lordship. Hold nothing back that would quicken or magnify the destruction of my flesh or the unqualified slavery of myself to you. I pray with all the earnesty I possess, and I pray in Jesus' name, Amen.

I'm feeling really mellow, or maybe melancholy. I really wish I was, say, working at an AIDS hospital in Africa right now. Or maybe in the slums of Calcutta. Not that I know anything about Calcutta - it's just a buzzword, a name of vague evil - but I just wish I wasn't lying in this friggen warm bed right now just waiting for Christmas. I've said before (though maybe not in my Journal) that I could never be a missionary because I'm so into security and the status quo. I've said before that I couldn't do it; I couldn't survive in my own strength, so I'd need a very obvious call from God to go. I've said before that God would have to catch me, or I'd be ruined. I'd go crazy or die or go 1984: just turn into a cold, ruthless animal hell-bent on survival. Well, maybe that's all true, but I'm starting to really want to go somewhere. To be maybe in the interior of China with no money, no passport or visa, no contacts or safetynets, no food, nothing, literally nothing but the clothes on my back and Almighty God. And maybe he'd catch me. Or maybe he'd let me die. Just a single, nameless, lunatic boy, all alone in his despair, rotting into the dirt. But maybe I'd be ok with that. Maybe I'd prefer even misery and death to this beautiful safe life I have now. Or maybe I'd be willing to risk it for the chance that God would catch me, and I'd do things beyond imagination. Or maybe I'm just full of shit, and I get kicks from writing scary stuff when I know I'll never, ever leave this safe little life that I have. God, have your way in me. I don't know if I really mean that, but even if I don't, have your way anyway.

"Just a single, nameless, lunatic boy, all alone in his despair, rotting into the dirt... maybe I'd be ok with that." Who writes this stuff? Have I become so secure with a sleeping-giant God that I'd boldly whisper such taunts and teasings in his ear? Do I really think that if there were even the smallest chance that I might be held accountable to such statements, that I would still make them? Wretch! God is not a beast who can be goaded into obedience. He will not be taken in by your self-righteous demands or your emotionalistic manipulation. He is not fooled by your boasting or snivelling or your smooth, passionate words. Even know you're absorbed with your own perceived eloquence. Even now you try on emotions like shirts, looking for the one that will trigger a response from your slot-machine God.

...Well. Now I've thought myself into a corner. I've sneered at all my best attempts at passion and honesty. I've accused myself of incessantly attempting to manipulate God with charades of submissiveness. What can I say after that? Brother Lawrence said "there needed neither art nor science for going to God, but only a heart resolutely determined to apply itself to nothing but Him, or for His sake, and to love Him only." Ok, I thought that's what I was doing. So am I totally mistaken about my own motivation, or is Brother Lawrence just a crackpot? Oh God, it would be so much easier if you'd just show me what's going on. Even if that means yelling at me. I'm just shooting in the dark, God. And I'm feeling frustrated. Maybe that's all part of your plan God, and that's cool, but otherwise, I'd really appreciate a hand.

My struggle to form some kind of workable knowledge of my own true thoughts and feelings (if such things exist) is by no means over. I still feel like I don't have a clue if what I'm saying is true a large percentage of the time. I get less frustrated about it these days - I just give it my best guess and run with it - but I really, really wish I could know when I'm bullshitting Jesus. Out of curiosity, am I the only one who feels like I don't know who I really am?

Christmas Eve, eh? Hm. That's nice. Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about my motivations today. I think that however imperfect my methods or even however selfish and manipulative my strategies, I am ultimately (generally) motivated by a deep-down, earnest desire to know and honor God. Not that this is something to be applauded - it is not my doing - but it is very real, and it is more and more shaping the way I think and live. I've come to realize that this passion is truly and increasingly the greatest motivation for anything I do - stronger even than my laziness or my lust or my desire for men's praise. It is an obsession; a craving. It is a desperate hunger that gnaws at my soul. Of any longing I have yet experienced, this is the most difficult to satisfy, and requires the greatest diligence to sustain. And yet I just recently realized that I truly want this passion. I strain and struggle to increase it, and it is my greatest fear that it may some day subside. Oh God, I cry out to you this one request: do not let this longing slip away! Spirit, groan for me. Words fail me, but I cry out to you Father, from my soul: Lord, do not let this longing slip away! Rather increase it. Fill me with this one obsession, that it may flush out all my sinful or worldly desires. Let me become, if it pleases you, no more than a humble, longing soul, weeping and groaning to know you and do your will. And Lord, in what passion you have already allotted me, I would wish for these longings to be fulfilled. I humbly and earnestly ask that you would reveal yourself to me and replace my will with your own. But more so I submit to your great wisdom. I accept your perfect timing and I ask that you grant me the patience and faith to wait on your perfect will. God, you are so great. My lips fail, but my spirit worships you. I exalt thee, I exalt thee, oh Lord.

I spent many months praying that God would increase my longing to know him and do his will, believing that this was the best thing I could desire. And then I spent many months beating that longing out of myself, because it was ruining me. I can't help smiling at the irony: I prayed that God would increase this longing (but also that he would not leave it wholly unsatisfied - he always seemed to miss that part) and if ever I've had a prayer answered, this was the one. And then for a long time afterwards I was sure this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Be careful what you pray for; God has very selective hearing.

I have a confession to make: I have neglected my journaling for the past week - a week that contained so many huge, journal-worthy things. Somehow I got wrapped up in completing the mandatory 12 installments per month, and now I've missed recording a lot of incredible stuff. Fool. Anyhow, I'm at winter camp and it's been awesome. Mostly I've sat around and read my Bible and talked to people. Hm, what should I summarize? I had another super talk with a friend from Bible study, this time about how it's my responsibility to challenge myself - I can't blame spiritual inertia on my surroundings. I also heard another guy's complete life story, which is really unbelievable. This guy challenged me to keep seeking a relationship with God. I'd sort of come to a point where I was like, "Maybe someday, if God decides to give it to me", but I'd run out of faith that it would happen. He encouraged me that it's possible, and it's worth seeking. And I've talked with all kinds of other people about a bunch of topics, like our misguided, mis-motivated "worship". I've also been challenged and invigorated by the man who's speaking. He's very passionate, seems to have a very close relationship with God, and has a real vision for the camp. The biggest thing maybe is that I made a kind of a pact with a guy that we would each spend an hour a day doing devotions. So that should be really interesting. Dang, I'm writing in a big room full of people and it's hard to concentrate, so I'm gonna quit and hopefully pick up on this at some later date.