By Nick DeanThe climb out of darkness is slow. It's fingernails in the dirt, heavy breathing and numerous falls. It is a fight. The key to digging yourself out of these dark times is to stop thinking you are going to be the reason you leave the pit. I got myself in this pit. I don’t have the ability to fix it.The words reverberated through me: Jolt. Shock. Adventure. Purpose. Meaning. Drive.I need a jolt. I want to be shocked. I yearn for adventure. What is my purpose? This call has a meaning. Who is my drive?The weeks had begun to blur together. When I graduated college I was nervous that I would be in my mid-30s in a few blinks. What would I accomplish? Where would I end up? How would I fair through it all? What memories would I make that could last? Would I be proud?The problem in all this thinking? I. So much of me, so little of Him.As a naturally zealous person, I get the itch for excitement and spontaneity quite often. I try to stay far away from boring. My God-given personality easily morphs itself as an idol to self-image. How and what people think of me was the driving force of my egotistical gluttony. I gorged myself on praise, success and others’ envy. The unattainable reality of perfection slammed me. Limiting my food intake, judging my looks and working to be the best in my field were irons bars constructing my prison.In my head, I was still the overweight guy. The fatherless guy. But those false identities didn’t cause me to sulk. They made me rage. Rage to be the best, regardless of my appearance. Rage to be normal, regardless of what life handed me. I meandered through life with a fake smile and decaying soul. No matter how well I did on tests, how funny I was or how artificially great I became, I still believed others thought of me as out of place. I kept running the perfection marathon, longing to just disappear into normalcy.During these years, the only truth from God on which I concentrated was that He chose me and called me His. But I really didn’t get that either.It was easy for church friends to tell me God was my Father when I brought up the pain that comes with an absent dad. I would let their supposedly comforting words fall to the floor with a fake smile and nod.It was a conditional truth in my mind. I believed I needed to strive for perfection, suppressing my faults, desires, sinful nature and broken heart. If it ever surfaced that I was an absolute mess, God’s offer was off the table. If I kept gaining weight, God was leaving. If people didn’t approve of me, God didn’t either. If I wasn’t the best, God wasn’t pleased.Admission of failure meant I had nowhere to go. My answer was to ignore it all.If I ignored my issues, He would ignore me altogether and that was the best answer I had at the time. My answer to handling my dad problems was blatant avoidance. My fatherless did not define me. I defined me. Life became a dull haze. I became a wisp of a person, thirsting for living water and relying on my own barren well.I saw hope for everyone around me and yet still believed I wasn’t privy to his love and grace because I was too deeply flawed; an unlovable, wayward son that got lost on the path and is now forever stuck being his own God.Fighting for your joy and pushing back darkness starts with not believing lies. I began to wake up yearning for Him, tipping my toe in the ocean of grace. I shifted into skeptical belief that being clean was possible. I look for how I could believe and cherish the idea that there was a spot for me in His kingdom. Meditation on truths became rhythmic practice in my battle for true joy:If You will, make me clean.You are good.You are able.You died for all.Fight for true joy in all things. The fascinating truth that His redeeming love is everlasting and ever-expanding hit me. I couldn’t dig a hole too deep for His grace. I could keep digging, yes, but the pit was never too deep for Him. If I repent, He can and will fill my pit with an outpouring of grace and forgiveness that also fills my soul to the brim.My avoidance of Him and His will was my digging of the pit. And my fight for joy was not me climbing back up. It was reaching my hands out and willfully believing in His ability to redeem my soul from the pit of emptiness.
“And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who seek Him.” Hebrews 11:6
He pursued me in my meditation on His word. He allowed me to repeat those truths — that He is good and able to make me clean — even in my deepest doubts. He wooed me to repentance. God loves me and is able: that’s the jolt I was looking for.Nick Dean is a partner and member of The Commons City Group. This post is in response to this month's Congregational Prayer at The Paradox. He blogs at bynickdean.com
