Wobbling off Center

Have you ever had a slow leak in a tire of your car–one that you didn’t notice until it was a full-blown disaster? Have you ever worked really hard to finish a project–only to realize that you’d missed a vital piece of information about the assignment?

That’s sort of how I’ve been feeling lately. Like I’ve been going about my daily life, adjusted to the routine, not realizing how out of whack my life is becoming.

I’ve grown comfortable in my life as a “working woman, a lady of leisure”. I’ve enjoyed quilting and keeping my house clean and piddling with this hobby and that.

But a few weeks ago, something started niggling in my mind, “Something’s wrong. You’re wobbling. I think you might be a bit off-center.” And I was, but I couldn’t figure out how to get back on to center.

I was doing my devotions like normal. I was going to church. I was praying when I thought to. But I wasn’t practicing the presence of God. I wasn’t living with an awareness of His kingdom. I was just blah.

And I couldn’t seem to break it. I tried to conjure emotion and bring things onto center–and only got more depressed about being off center.

I started to ask people to pray for me–that I would desire God above all else, that I would be aware of His presence, just… I didn’t know what I wanted, but I wanted something to change. I didn’t want to just be doing–I wanted to be truly living.

At our disciplemaking class at church on Monday, we heard a speaker talk about Paul’s exclamation: “Yet indeed I count all things as loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ….that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death…”

We were speaking about the vision of a disciple-maker–and I had to say that I don’t feel that I have it. I don’t have that vision to know Christ and to make Him known. I want to have it. But I don’t have it. Vision is more than just words–it’s seeing. And when I walk throughout my day, I don’t have that vision “to know Christ and to make Him known” in front of my eyes. I just don’t. We prayed about it that evening.

I picked up a book at the library earlier that day on a whim–Tony Evans’s “Our God is Awesome.” I started reading Tuesday morning. The first chapter resonated with everything I’d been experiencing. Evans writes: “Knowing who HE is defines who WE are….To know God is to have Him rub off on you, to enter into relationship with God so that who He is influences who you are….The knowledge of God affects your self-interpretation….Unless the knowledge of God has changed you, you don’t know Him….Life can never be what it was intended to be for you or me unless that life consists of God’s life being lived out in us.

That was it. The dull ache, the sense that something was off balance, that somehow this wasn’t enough–this is what it was saying. Life isn’t LIFE until I’m walking in intimacy with Christ. And somehow, over the course of my leisurely semester off, I lost that intimacy with Christ. I was thirsty for relationship with Him–but I didn’t recognize the thirst for what it was–and I kept drinking other things.

Physically, I’ve been dehydrated for a long time–so much so that I experience blackouts because I don’t have enough blood volume to get oxygen to my brain. Since learning this in January, I’ve had to retrain myself in regard to my thirst cues. I had to learn to listen to them–and get something to drink when my body was thirsty. An orange isn’t sufficient. Gum might “wet my whistle” but it won’t make me more alive. The only thing that will solve my blackouts is water.

I’m coming to see that I’ve also become spiritually dehydrated–blacking out because I’m not receiving proper nourishment. But instead of recognizing the thirst and drinking from the fount of living water, I popped some gum and continued my day to day activities. And just like I’ve had to retrain myself to listen to and obey my thirst signals, I’m going to have to retrain myself to listen to and heed my spirit–that cries out for intimacy with Christ.

“I am thirsty.” I tell myself whenever I experience thirst. “I will get a drink by [insert reasonable amount of time to break away from my current activity].”

Yesterday and today, I’ve started to remind myself. “You are thirsty. You need to be in relationship with God.” I’ve been spending more time in the Word, singing worship songs during work, praying over things instead of worrying over them. But mostly, I’ve just started realizing that I’m thirsty–“I want to know [Christ] and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death…” I want to have God rub off on me, so that who He is influences who I am.

I may not be going much of anywhere quite yet–but I feel as though I’m coming back to center–back to Christ, who is the center of it all.