Category: difficulties

Perpetual Motion

Like anyone, the idea of “perpetual motion” (PM) mildly intrigues me (emphasis on “mildly.)  PM inventors are a strange lot. They are kind of like “flat-earthers.” They deeply and sincerely believe they have invented something that runs off its own productive energy, requiring nothing to keep it working.  However, there is undisputed scientific consensus that perpetual motion would violate the first law of thermodynamics.

There is a great deal of manipulating and posturing among those who believe in PM.  Their inventions somehow require secrecy, and than a real “step-of-faith” on investors and supporters.  I have seen blueprints and illustrations of PM machines, and I can see the attraction.  But it seems that there is also an ingrained arrogance among  the inventors.  They believe they have accomplished the ultimate.  They have invented something so awesome that everything pales in significance.

Among believers there can exist a belief in a “faith” that cannot contain a deep sense of what is true and real.  Yielding to PM and its variations delivers us into a mistaken and tricky reality.  What we think and feel cannot be verified or supported.  I guess that’s one of the reasons a lot of significance is put on illustrations, and blueprints.  A picture of a PM apparatus has a deeper “wow factor.”

Within a disciple’s life, there can be a profound quest for perpetual motion.  We come to the place where we start imagining a spiritual walk that is always going forward.  We feel we can fly on auto-pilot of the Spirit,   we switch it on and than we leave the cockpit to visit with the passengers.  There are no conflicts, sin, issues or hardships.  We are living the “victorious Christian life” after all.

But the stark realities say otherwise.  No matter how positive we try to become, we face situations that threaten to dismantle our faith.  There comes a realization over time, that there is no yellow brick road.  The song birds don’t serenade us, and everything doesn’t click into place and fit nicely.  Life does not come with a teflon coating.  It is a struggle, a wrestling match.  We would be wise to understand this. 

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Walking Intelligently

  1. Faith–“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”  2 Cor. 5:7
  2. Spirituality–“But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.” Gal. 5:16
  3. Consistency–“I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called.”  Eph. 4:1
  4. Love–“And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.”  Eph. 5:2
  5. Wisdom–“Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise.” Eph. 5:15
  6. Light–“But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.”  1 John 1:7
  7. Christlikeness–“Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.”  1 John 2:6

 

These 7 verses all talk about our walk.  Each verse brings us a facet of that walk.  We must avail ourselves of every awareness, following Jesus is indeed a “walk.”  We take steps that will lead us into an vast eternity with our Savior.  We move spiritually from one place to a closer place.  We walk forward, and not back.  We move ahead, and each day closer to our Lord.  Time, you see, only exists to bring us that much nearer to Jesus.

To walk means progression.  It also is destiny.  Some of the greatest works in literature is the book, “Pilgrim’s Progress,” by John Bunyan.  It is a book about walking.  We are all walking toward home.  It is challenging to make this journey through tremendous issues.  We all are making progress as we travel home.

The issues are “faith, spirituality, consistency, love, wisdom, light and christlikeness.”  Which of these are we prepared to ditch?  If we concentrate on each of these, we find that we can’t give up any of them.  They all are dear and fundamental to an authentic faith.

Walking can be strenuous.  When we walk it means we have direction and a goal in mind.  It is almost never done aimlessly.  As we walk, we begin to unfold these seven issues.  We will find that the Father inserts us into situations and circumstances where we get to unveil these seven.  We will enter into events where we take on certain qualities.  As we walk we learn the behavior of our Lord.  And that dear ones, can’t be all bad.

Getting Down and Dirty

by Julie Anne Fidler, BB Weekly Contributor

I have a confession to make: I used to avoid church. It wasn’t because the overhead lighting gave me migraines (even though it did.) It wasn’t because my lazy cat had more pep than the worship team, or because I always managed to find a pew filled with screaming children throwing Goldfish crackers. In reality, I have been a member of two churches over the past ten years and both of them were great, Bible-believing churches.

It’s just that everyone in church is so darn perfect, you know? Look around you. Everyone has it all together. Sure, those kids may be throwing crackers, but they’re destined to become evangelists. The women have great hair and impeccable fashion taste and are obviously dream wives. The men never struggle with lust and have never been guilty of spending too many hours at the office.

Right.

But this has been my impression of church for as long as I can remember. The older I get, the more I realize how crazy that is, but I do battle with the concept even now. Church is supposed to be the one place where we get really honest with God, others, and ourselves.  It’s the place where you are supposed to show up with your dirt and your bruises. We are supposed to reach out and say, “Life is hard; help me.” Too often, however, we wear our best, not just on the outside, but on the inside. We want to blend in, look content, and seem overjoyed with the life we are leading.

Even if I never had a mental illness, I would struggle. The fact that I do have one makes it that much harder because I know that a couple of pills mean the difference between being OK and all my engines completely shutting down.  I know that being obedient to Christ becomes a million times harder when I’m sick. I also know that if I shared this part of my life with everyone in that sanctuary, I’d be met with suspicion and disappointment – not by everyone, but by some.

1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” Oh, but I definitely struggle with fear. I know I shouldn’t. I know there’s no good reason to, but I do. I fear the reaction of others. I fear I cannot measure up to the standards of others. I fear looking like a fool.

I deal with these fears by facing them. Don’t get the wrong idea – I’m not trying to frame myself as a martyr.  Some people willingly jump out of airplanes. Some people get as high as the clouds, freak out, and have to be coaxed out the door. I have to be coaxed, but the more I do it, the easier it gets.  I want to be the real me when I walk through those church doors, when I go to a small group, when I sit down with a Christian friend for coffee. Jesus went to the dark places. He knelt down in the gutters. He got dirty. I don’t want to spend my life wearing a lily white uniform.

I want the Church to understand mental illness. As it stands, I think the Church is afraid of it. Of course you are going to be afraid of something you don’t understand. If I want the Church to understand mental illness and effectively reach out to “the least of these” who are suffering with it, I have to introduce them to it. I have to get dirty. I have to be honest about my own time in the gutter, my own days of wandering, if I want them to understand and respond in love.

I may run into resistance and fear, but even if I educate one person in the process, that’s one more voice speaking the truth and cracking the façade. I take a point away from the enemy, who is the creator of fear. Don’t be silent about who you are and what you battle. Trade in your spotless uniform for some dirty rags. Let’s get the Church a little dirty. Let’s love them into loving those who are lost and alone.

Julie Anne Fidler is a contributing writer for Brokenbelievers.com.  She comes with a humble and understanding heart for those with a mental illness.  Her writing gift is valued greatly.  Look for her post weekly, on this blog.   She keeps a personal ministry blog at www.mymentalhealthday.blogspot.com.  Read more there.

Close Encounters of the God Kind

by Julie Anne Fidler, Contributor to BB

As odd as it may sound, being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder was one of the highlights of my life. I got good and excited about it in the same way one might get good and excited about discovering they were pregnant. But at 24 years old, I had lost jobs, lost friends, my young marriage was on the brink of divorce, and my faith was in tatters. I sought help when there was nothing left to lose. A diagnosis meant that all the craziness in my life had a real name and that craziness could be treated.

With three suicide attempts and a history of poor decision-making under my belt, I believed that my main problem was a basic lack of faith. I spent a huge chunk of my life seeking spiritual guidance and counseling and always felt like if I could just “make a go” of my walk with God, all of my problems would subside. Except that I couldn’t make a go of it. My faith followed the same pattern as the rest of my life – for a few days or weeks I was on fire for the Lord, followed by a period of deep despair and doubt, eventually leading to apathy. I tried to be a good Christian girl but over and over again, the same pattern emerged.

Hoping and believing that treatment for my BP would help me get this part of my life on track, I eagerly told my friends, family, and other church members of the recent development. I was not surprised when my parents didn’t share my elation. They are from a different era. You simply didn’t discuss things like that. I was, however, hurt and angered to get the same reaction from other believers.

Yes, everyone meant well. They asked me if I was spending time in prayer, reading the Word faithfully, and fellowshipping and much as possible. Those are not at all bad or wrong questions to ask. They are the questions we are supposed to be asking our brothers and sisters in Christ on a regular basis, under the most normal circumstances. But with many of these people, their tone and incessant questioning made it clear that they didn’t believe in mental illness, only spiritual deficit. A few even came right out and said so.

While my quality time with Jesus improved and deepened, I began to find myself consistently held back by one thing: anger. I was angry at the church. I was angry that people accepted that I needed insulin for my diabetes, but they didn’t want to accept that I needed medication for BP. I found myself backing away from these people and for a time I even stopped attending church. I even shut out the people who had been understanding and supportive, fearing they were only telling me what I wanted to hear. When people offered to pray that God would release me from the grip of my illness, I became offended. I wanted these people to understand that I had not erected some sort of spiritual wall that kept me locked into depression or mania.

Months went by before I returned to church. I only went because my niece was with me and I wanted to be a pseudo-role model to her. The sermon that morning was about healing, and though I can’t recall all the details of what Pastor Barry said, I can tell you the message I heard loud and clear: I HAD, indeed, erected a spiritual wall between God and I.

In my anger and defensiveness, I’d pushed aside the omnipotence of God. I had forgotten that He is still holy, that He is still in control, that He is still the great physician. I had placed all of my faith in the medications I took every day, and in the human physicians who prescribed them to me. If God had healed a blind man right in front of me, I would have missed it because I was too angry to stop and watch Him work. I also began to realize that if God can reach out and heal it, then it must be a spiritual issue. Isn’t everything? I wanted acceptance and understanding for my condition, but I became a Pharisee in the process, dismissing the faith of others who believed that by merely touching the hem of Jesus’ robe, healing was possible.

There is no doubt that the church needs to be educated on mental illness. There is no doubt that mental illness (I believe “brain illness” is a more accurate term) exists and is a true, medical condition. There is also no doubt that the Enemy is using mental illness to divide and conquer, and shred the hopes of people like me, who just want to be as normal a person as possible. Once the fog of my anger cleared, God showed me that I was to be a part of the solution to this… but it could never happen until I was willing to be sympathetic towards those who don’t understand, instead of bitter.

If you’re reading this, you’re a part of the grand plan, too. It’s a tough road, but you should feel honored. There is nothing more satisfying or powerful than turning one of Satan’s own weapons against him.

Julie Anne Fidler is now a contributing writer for Brokenbelievers.com.  She comes with a humble and understanding heart for those with a mental illness.  Her writing gift is valued greatly.  Look for her post weekly, on this blog.

She keeps a personal ministry blog at mymentalhealthday.blogspot.com.  Read more there.