Lying with Your Life

I've always been a selective reader of the Prophets.

If you asked straight out "Are the Prophets important?", I'd have said "Yes."  If you watch my Bible reading pattern, hoping to discern my lived theology, you'd see a different picture.

I hate it when gaps appear between my verbal theology and lived theology.

This happens all over the place, to all of us.  I'm not the only one who lies with my life.  We all do it, don't we?  And with things much more significant than where in the Bible we read.

I remember seeing this so clearly at Mock Convention a few years ago.  I had been asked to pray in front of what I had assumed would be the entire W&L student body (someone neglected to mention that many, if not most of them would still be asleep).

I was nervous about praying on the platform.  (There's a fine line between being a minister of the gospel and being a grinder monkey.)  For some reason, Amy couldn't be there with me, so I was flying solo.

I pushed through my nervousness, even as it threatened to become fear.  I had to.  Prayer is powerful.  God is sovereign.  These students matter to God and, whether or not they knew it, they were cracking the door open to encounter the God of the universe when they invited prayer into their convention.

I asked a friend to sit with me that morning, to ease the anxiety.  But the friend couldn't make it.  He needed to stay at home.  But he promised to pray for me.

I was frustrated.  Pray for me.  Pray for me?  Prayer was the last thing I wanted.  It felt so cheap.  I was so frustrated.

There was a gap.

In my verbal theology, prayer was meaningful. 
In my lived theology, it wasn't.

I was lying with my life.  When I realized it, something started to change.  I forgave my friend, tried to value prayer.  I churned and rumbled and haven't really solved it, but feel like I'm headed in a healthier direction.

What do you do when you catch yourself lying with your life?

No comments:

Post a Comment