The Physics of Quarter-Life Crisis

August 21st, 2014

So you know how in stories, the protagonist always struggles through some terrible battle or dark valley? Then they find the light, push through, seize the day, win the game, save the world. Of course, the lesson is simple: victory is just an epiphany away, all you need is one more push.

At least, that's what I learned. But life isn't like that. Instead of doling out magic swords and great quests, the world always seems to find unexpected ways to smack you upside the head. Instead of "once upon a time" I think all stories should start with "just when I thought I had it all together…"

Several weeks ago, I got back from a month-long trip through Europe. And immediately upon arriving in the States, I felt like a deer stepping from forest onto paved road. Adventures, exotic locations, and split-second decisions that changed what country I slept in all contrasted enormously to my life back here. That shock of coming back, combined with a breakup soon after, wrought more than a few changes in my life. And I couldn't label that process until my brother - the one with a Master's in mental health - gave it a name: quarter-life crisis.

My Utmost Inspiration

Crouching in the corner of my college dorm room, I found myself dumbstruck by the day's devotional reading. At my father's recommendation I'd faithfully read Chamber's My Utmost for His Highest for the past year. Countless devotionals from this book rocked my world, smacked me between the eyes and felt like the breath of God, but only a couple forced me to stand up and git. That day, one of those entries found me. Prior to reading that day, I felt my thoughts and experiences all flowing together in a swell that...needed something. An outlet. I knew I should write it down, but...well, life gets in the way, I'm not sure what I would write, etc. Excuses.

Then I read this. And it is the reason for my writing anything on this site. 

Faking It

Last week a friend and I were talking about this post, musing about life, honest struggle, etc. A few days later, the friend sent this piece to me. I read it and immediately  asked if I could share it on the blog. Permission was granted - anonymously - so here we are, the first guest post!

I don't really know where to start when it comes to sledge hammering heart walls that have been built up for years, but I'm betting prayer (knees to the ground crying out kind of prayer) is a great place to start. Beyond that I think the next step is action. I often expect my prayers to magically fix everything while I sit around and watch as if I'm not an active participant in change. That's a problem. I need to pray and act. Being idle isn't going to help. Prayer and action. Prayer and intentional reconciliation. Prayer and conversation. It's time to let go of the fear of being known. 

If I'm being honest, I can't tell the difference between real and fake in my life anymore. It's painful - to be "real". To give others the power to break you, so as a result I have become complacent. Living my life on the surface and creating relationships of convenience instead of depth. I choose safe, comfortable, and easy instead of different and potentially painful - and yet I expect to grow?

Desynchronized

This another step in the real and raw walk that is my Christianity. If Haiti was about losing control and this post on losing doubt, this is...losing my mind. There are three parts, each separated by the date it was written - read all three before asking questions.

"Do not be deceived, God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please the flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction. Whoever sows to please the spirit, from the spirit will reap eternal life." - Gal. 6:7-8

9/22/12
In living I stand at an impasse. My mind and soul have thoroughly steeped in proofs and experiences of Christianity. I've attended countless classes and retreats then examined and tried to live other worldviews.  Nothing else makes sense logically. Emotionally, everything else leaves me narcissistic and wretched or empty and hopeless. I see the Christian ideal, how it might be - fulfilling my purpose in relationship with God - and it's beautiful. Like I wrote before, I've seen, I've felt, I've tasted; I took a jump of faith, found solid rock on the other side. Revolutionary, yet nothing new for far too many. I think this entry will shake that a bit.

Like everyone, I've failed so much over the past years; so many times I've hit the snooze button through devos, so many times I did something else instead of spend time with God. So many times I've chosen games or girls, or who knows what else. And of course, I soon would find myself sorry and guilty. I'd get some time with God, and everything would be alright again. Until I messed up, then went back, and messed up, repeat ad nausem. But something's not working any more.

Beyond Doubt

Written 8/15/12. I consider this "Part 2" of a journey that first became real in Haiti. You can read about that here.

Last night I spent some time with a friend at an impasse in life. We talked about his legalistic religious background, where everything is works-based and his family doesn't allow men to grow hair past their ears in fear of losing salvation. Yet life circumstances were forcing him to question a lot about his beliefs, convictions, and family. None of the answers were easy. Belief in a salvation of grace alone would necessitate a horrible fight and separation from his mother, his best friend and only real pillar in life. All in pursuit of a faith hardly understood and a God barely known. With his current foundation crumbling, the end question was: on what must he base his faith?

But now I stand asking the same question. I have lived in the church for twenty years and led Bible studies, boys' cabins, and men's halls towards Christ. And so much more. I’ve walked in God's presence, laughed at countless inside jokes only He and I understand, and embarrassingly wept in public over sin and grace. I’ve seen, I’ve felt, I’ve tasted, I’ve known.

So why is that not enough? During moments of spiritual intimacy, I feel this black doubt perching on the corner of my heart, driving questions into my head like "what if it's not real", "what if this is all just a waste of time", and "what if everyone else sees". To which I usually snap “shut up, I’m not supposed to be thinking that, go away”. I don't know what upsets me more - the presence of the doubt or my inability to prevent it from coming back.

On what have I based my faith?

Facts won't work. Every incontrovertible "fact" in my head - persona, experience, blessings - can be shoved and explained away by mental rushes, perception, or coincidence. Chemicals in my brain can warp perception of reality, and momentary feeling is no foundation for a world-shaking faith. 

And the past is no foundation either. Devoting yourself to something just because it makes your family happy, or because you've developed hard-to-break habits around it, is laughable. Countless people have defied family both in pursuit and hate of Christ. Habit is no indicator of truth, as neither are history or ritual.

What about creation and the universe itself? There are many claims about this planet and its origin; in deliberate avoidance of that debate I rest on two facts. First, everywhere I look I see infinitely complex systems begetting endlessly intertwined life. Second, that all of these systems seem remarkably intentional and I must assume an intentional creator. Perhaps that's the strongest yet - art denotes the existence of an artist. Yet again I trip over myself, as that sentiment is based on my own vulnerable and fickle perceptions. Observation of the natural world is a strong base, but not the final cornerstone on which to base faith.

Therefore the foundation of faith cannot be based on anything I see, feel, or know. It must be something other, something impregnably unaffected by mine or anyone else's perceptions. It must be the foundation of all foundations, something all-powerful and all-knowing. I guess we'd probably call that God. But to start to believe in any god, your brain requires reason and evidence, both of which are flawed by perception and feeling. The circle begins again.

There's an impasse here. As I know my perceptions are faulty, I cannot base my faith on anything I sense. Yet without some sensed proof there's no thought towards faith in the first place.

A leap has to happen. A leap letting go of the expectation of knowing, of proof, of quantifiable certainty; if I could quantify it I couldn't trust it anyways. It has to be a Faith rooted in faith -a leap of pure, unwavering trust that the chasm has another side. It's a letting go of what I know and just trusting that something…else is there across the gap. It's believing in the unfeelable, unseeable, and unknowable, then and letting that belief fuel everything in life.

Instantly at the thought my deathgrip grows tighter on the mental handhold of what I know, and all the "what ifs" pound into my head again. What if it's all fake, what if it's not real, what if you fall and everyone sees? But those are exactly the same questions plaguing me at the beginning. They circle around like sharks biting tail of the other, neither finding any end but their own. Futile. Unmoving. Stagnant. And I hate stagnation.

You know what, this is stupid. I'm always that guy that jumps first, the one that unthinkingly hurls himself headfirst into things. Why do I fearfully cling to the wall only here? Screw the damn doubt questions. I thirst deepest for action, for purpose, for integrity, and this is the only recourse I have for all three. I don't care if I fall. I don't care if people see. I want to find the truth and truly live, so I'm jumping.

See you on the other side.

Redemption

Written 12/08/10.

I don't get the cross.

Or forgiveness, for that matter. Be honest with yourself - if someone you truly cared for consistently flaunted your love, what would you do? If everyone treated each other how we treat God, we'd hate each other. We get sidetracked by almost every shiny thing that pops up in our path; substitute almost anything for our time with our Lover. How can he keep forgiving us through that? How many times have I tearfully sworn love and loyalty, only to turn and slap God in the face the next day? How many turns will this take until it "sticks"? How many tears must flow to change my soul? How many mountaintops must I fall from until I learn to fly? The first lines from Chris Rice's "Clumsy" come to mind:

"I get so clumsy, I get so foolish, I get so stupid sometimes, then I feel so useless. But you're saying you love me, and you still wanna hold me, that you wanna be near me, that you're making me holy...still making me holy".

Yes we all know the Sunday School answer. God loves us just that much to forgive us every time we sin. Thank you so much. 

You know what? Forget our all-knowing mind for a second, and answer with your heart. How long must this go on? How long must I grieve the heart of God? Why does He redeem us? Relational pain is a horrible hell, but could you imagine going through it almost continually, every day, just because you love so many people that much? This is crazy. There are so many ways to explain "Oh, how He loves us"…but why. Why does God love us? Why does he forgive? Why did he die and go through hell for us? Why did he create humanity in the first place?  "For His glory". Well, crap. Right there we cross over into the deepest part of theology - the mind of God - and reach the end of human understanding. Sure, God is the only being in the universe that can justifiably glorify Himself, so what else would be more glorifying than an image of Himself?

Forget the mental gymnastics. I've heard them all my life. I'm not looking for rational answers, and I don't think you are either. Reason can impact the heart, but not change it.

From My Utmost for His Highest: 

"It does not matter who or what we are, there is absolute reinstatement into God by the death of Jesus Christ and by no other way, not because Jesus Christ pleads, but because He died. It is not earned, but accepted."

I don't get that. I live life by doing, by practicing and doing better and getting my work's due. And when I just mess up all the time, I ruin the one thing in my life that could save me. Continuing from Utmost:

"All the pleading which deliberately refuses to recognize the Cross is of no avail; it is battering at another door than the one which Jesus has opened."

But what does that mean? What does "recognizing the Cross" look like? What's the ten-step, ten-minute plan to overnight Cross recognition? I've heard the story of the cross so many times, but has my heart ever truly grasped the depth of the Atonement?

I think this just deserves incredulity. An passionate kind of disbelief that fuels our every action - a true realization of the power of the Cross. The insanity of the Atonement. And to let that grind our sense of self-ownership and any speck of pride into nothing. We are not our own, never were our own, never will be our own. It's never been and never will be  about us, and nothing we ever do can change the horrible blackness in our souls. I found something awesome on this.

"I think it means we serve a God who loves redemption more than we can possibly imagine. We may feel disqualified for his mercy. We may feel too dirty for his grace. We may feel only a series of white knuckle works will open back up his gates. But, that’s not what his love letter says. We are not shown a steady parade of heroes who became even more heroic in the hands of God. We are shown a parade of failures who found forgiveness. Losers who found love. Hopeless who found hope."

                                                                                - Jon Acuff

If nothing else, in realizing just what a hopeless loser I am apart from God, I've learned a bit of how prayer is such a fantastic answer to everything. So that's what I did. I prayed. God, I'm an idiot, I don't get this. Can you at least help pry open my mind to this? Sanctify my broken heart and heal my blind eyes to see your truth?

That very night I'd messed up again. The next morning walking to class, I felt myself sheepishly standing before God, yet again trying to crawl towards him; whimpering a pathetic "I'm…sorry" with all the above questions ransacking my mind. Not again, how can I go back again, what can I do this time? As the hopelessness began to creep over me, a sentence was distinctly heard:

"You've already been forgiven".

...and there was no question about it. 

At the Dinner Table

Written 11/23/2010.

It is neigh sacred tradition in the Shull house to hold devotions after dinner, a practice I hated throughout high school. But for the moment, forget my immaturity. The other night we had a fascinating discussion during devotions, and as per normal when my mind gets rolling, I felt the drive to write it down. Here you are.

I'll ask this: when criticizing Christianity, where do people instantly point? To the hypocrisy of its believers. Just take our treatment of each other in the church - why are there families painfully torn apart by the "body of Christ"? Why all the denominations, the infighting, and the squabbling over a verse or two?

Narrow the focus: drinking. There's some Christian dynamite for you. Put that word out in a church meeting and feelings will arise. I brought up some recent thoughts about this, and things started to become passionate at the dinner table. Then Dad whipped out his old leatherbound, highlighting two passages: Romans 14 and 1 Corinthians 13. Romans 14 attacks this subject head-on, and is a fantastic read as a whole. Some highlights:

"As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him…why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God".

Hold on to that for a second while we throw one more color into the mix - 1 Corinthians 13:1-6. Everyone's heard verses 4-7, that "love is patient, love is kind" bit that's read at every wedding (even though that's speaking of a more universal than romantic love). However the first three verses here are what Dad pointed out:

 "If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing".

You can do everything there is in the world - be the smartest, the most accomplished, the wisest, and still fall short. In summary: you can be so "right"…but without love, you're still wrong.

A clarification - yes, truth is unchanging and rooted in the nature of God, and love is not rolling over sin blindly. What did Jesus say to the girl caught cheating on her husband? "Go and sin no more". He forgave her, yet still acknowledged the action as wrong, as a deed worthy of punishment and ultimately His death. There is a time for speaking truth in love. But Romans goes on to describe three examples of conflict for the church: drinking, eating meat sacrificed to idols, and holy days. Instead of a contextual analysis, I think there's a question that better gets to the point: why did God give us these gray areas anyways?

Dad had a theory: to test our love. To watch and see how we'll love each other in these "disputable matters". Examples? Predestination. Creation. Revelation. Baptism. Women in the church. Speaking in tongues. War. Alcohol. Prozac. Contraception. Music. Movies.

Church is community, one  in which many of us have grown and matured. Therefore, we link our personal history our personal churches and their beliefs, which in comparison inevitably lead to heated scuffles and hurt feelings. My dad's point: in moderation this is healthy and normal, yet when the dust settles, is the issue essential? Often - no…yet it is important. When the essential gets confused with the nonessential, chaos and hypocrisy spread. Yet why are we surprised - is not the bride of Christ Satan's biggest target?

St. Augustine had something fantastic on this:

"In essentials, unity. In nonessentials, liberty. In all things, charity."

I love that - it applies to so many aspects of life and our treatment of others (charity here meaning love in old English, rather than the act or mindset of giving something away).

"By this they will know you are my disciples...by your love for one another". Are Christians defined by their understanding and love for others, especially in difficulty, and moreso with each other in "nonessentials"?

Are you?

Out of Control

Written August 15 2008, the summer after high school graduation.

So I recently went through the Dominican Republic and Haiti for two weeks. It wasn’t with any group or association, just my brother and a friend of his, Andy. We experienced much, and have a good many amazing stories for future campfires. I wrote everything down in a Moleskine journal. While there’s obviously a lot of stuff written in that journal, several entries each day, there is one entry in particular that I would trade all rest for. This is that entry, translated from my shorthand and edited to make sense. 

July 22nd, in our room, Hudson’s house, night

Wow. I really don’t know what to say. We did a bunch of things after I last wrote, playing with more kids, seeing stuff, but that’s not important. I have learned how to run. Or, walk, rather, as I’m too little to run. I’ll start with something my brother said. We started talking about some of our deeper questions of Christianity, and the question of scripture and its application came up. 

“How do I know that verse was meant for me, and not for the Israelites in their specific time and place? Then, why does it matter? Is scripture inherent anyways? Does the God who supposedly spoke it really speak it? Does he even really love me? …Does he even really exist? Does life have a purpose anyways?

…and now I’ve put myself alone on this island, questioning the existence of God and the nature of the universe.”

He said that tonight as an example of how he’s gone about questioning our faith in the past. Questioning and testing your beliefs is a vital part of making your faith your own, but...where does it lead? I do know this: if you pursue doubt for the sake of doubt, you find darkness. And that darkness has plagued me since I took my first steps toward Christ.

I call it the Catacombs, after the Greek myth of the Minotaur. King Minos of Crete had these catacombs he would push people into – an immense maze, impossible to comprehend and plunged in darkness. The maze was special – it always moved you towards its center. In the center was the Minotaur – death. The questions are the Catacombs. The first one “opens a door to a dark room” as Andy put it, and the rest, instead of showing you the way out, plunge you ever deeper into the darkness, into the maze where at the center is the complete rejection of God and salvation – the Minotaur, and death. 

These questions, the Catacombs, have a covert purpose: control. All my life I’ve tried to understand with my mind – the whys, the hows, etc. I read and watched all the theories, the explanations, all telling me the reasons I should or should not believe what I believe. And all of it, all the feeble grasps at understanding, are my attempts to control – to define, shorten, limit, package, and shelve away anything that ironically cannot be defined or limited. We’re attempting to fetter the unfetterable – God. What we don’t realize is what actually happens – in the reaching up to chain that which is above us, our strength fails. The chains fall back on us. We deceive ourselves into thinking that we have been freed by defining this element of spirituality, caging ourselves in the process. Really, we define ourselves by that control. It’s the core component of who we are. But I’ve got news for you – the Christian life is the most out of control and freefalling life there is. And yeah, that still scares the crap out of me, as it should you – if by nature we are controlling beings, then the idea of being out of control is contrary to our very self. But that is the secret – to Deny Self, in the words of John Piper. And the secret to that? Let go. - some people call it Faith. When I came to that realization, I said something out loud - 

“I’m coming to see that faith is as big a part of my Faith as anything else is.”

Say it out loud a few times and you’ll get the irony.

All my life I have heard people use the word “faith”. Everyone has. It’s always been some…THING vaguely related to God and stuff, something that I really couldn’t put in concrete terms. But on the trip we started talking about something using that same word, “faith”, but it was something so different that I didn’t connect it to what I had known all my life. The way we were talking it and living it was much more to do about God providing somewhere to sleep, something to eat in a country where people go for days without eating, and water to drink when we had nothing resembling a purifier. That the next thing you put in your mouth wouldn’t bring a parasite along with it. That the darkness of the voodoo drums in the mountains were less than the light that protected us. It was so immediate, so simple, so uncomplicatedly real, that tonight I made that ridiculous statement. 

And that was the key – I stopped thinking, stopped doubting, and stopped bloody using my stupid head, and just…trusted. Trusted God in the fact that we would always have something to eat, somewhere to sleep. And in the letting go of those concerns, instead of losing everything, I found it all. Losing control, that thing so desired and worked towards, actually put me in complete peace. 

It’s precisely like love – when you love someone, what do you do? Or perhaps, what don’t you do? You’d never ask “So do I really love her?”, “Why do I keep doing all these nice things anyways?”, or even “Isn’t this just a bunch of chemicals all mixed up weird?” No. You just…love. Thoughtless, uninvited, unquestioned, selfless love. 

So when you try to control, to make perfect sense of things, you think, and stop trusting, stop loving, and become chained again. I’m beginning to see a small piece of this enormous sadness. God must feel like this when he sees his creation shackled in such a way. I have this image in my mind, and it’s more of a feeling than a picture, so I’ll do my best. The image is this – a human, naked and free, running through fields of endless joy, all the while lying in the blissful happiness of God’s arms. Nothing, no thing can stop this sprint to and from God – the walls, the pits, and the giants in life are transparent shadows, laughingly passed through. When we doubt (or fear, or any other sin in this case), we stop running. We look around us, and instead of passing through them, we push against the walls, shiver as we peer down into the pits, and quail at the giants. We then do everything in our power to imagine a creative way to bypass the obstacles, maybe climb over the wall, build a bridge over the pit, or maybe single-handedly beat down the giants. All this when we shouldn’t even be looking at the problems! Our eyes should, and were created to be on God, powered by a triune battery of faith, hope, and love. Love has been my focus for a few years now, and I believe I understand a few morsels of it. Faith I have come to see clearer in these past few days…marked by my “I don’t see how faith fits in with love” remark the first day I was here. Hope, I still do not understand, but I have faith (hah) God will reveal its place to me. 

“Hope without Faith is powerless, and faith without hope is purposeless.”

- Andy, just after writing this when I asked him about hope. I had to think about it for awhile.

Here’s my weak attempt at working Faith, Hope, and Love together. You must have the faith to let go, falling into the unsurpassed love of the Father where you cannot help but love back, with a well-rooted and secure hope that keeps you in giddy anticipation of what comes next, like a kid at Christmas. 

The morning after I wrote all this, I had a weird feeling, and tried to identify it. It was precisely like I had a huge crush on some girl, a girl I’d definitely be seeing soon. You know what I mean - that weird, bubbly feeling where you almost vibrate with anticipation. Only then I realized that it wasn’t over any girl, it was over God. In realizing all that was written above, I found myself in direct, relational contact with God, beginning to fulfill the purpose of my humanity. I was (and am)…in the beginning stages of a loving relationship with my Creator, which made me…giddy. How hilarious is that?

Author's note, four years later: I consider this piece to be a sort of "Part 1" to what I'm sure will be a lifelong journey with God. I hold Beyond Doubt as "Part 2" to the thoughts begun here.