Bad Timing

Let's talk about timing. Bad timing. It's what I thought I had, not all throughout my life, but these past couple of years. Senior year summer is a prime example of bad timing. Then Freshman year. Then Sophomore year. Perhaps Sophomore year most of all. Over the last three years, it went from one boy to another to more to family to classes to God to family to boys to accidents to God to friends to family to God to Paris to family to Paris. It was an endless cycle of lamenting, "What the fuck, why the hell is this happening right now, God?!" Lol. These past few years could have been, really, clinical cases in the study of "When bad timing happens to (not-so) good people".

In retrospect...There couldn't have been better timing at all. Because it was all God's timing, all along. At Hillsong this past Sunday, the pastor mentioned that God doesn't require us to thank Him for everything but rather, in everything. In these moments of frustration, bitterness, sadness, loneliness, depression, I was struggling to thank Him both for everything and in everything. Personally, I believe that all things, good and bad, can be attributed to God because it all serves a greater purpose-- a reason lies behind each event that is unknown until the end. When it all makes sense. This past semester, I tried really hard and did see the good in the bad, but it was hard for me to grasp that it was okay to see the bad in the bad, too. Karen commented, "And there you go again, making it all seem like it's not a big deal. But it is." I don't know why I was, and still, so afraid to see the bad in the bad. Even with the accident, I kept having to reassure myself that I was still surrounded by such a great circle of friends who loved me and supported me to no end, that I should be so grateful that I could seize the moment to depend on them. I didn't want to, God knows that, but I was forced to. So maybe I could thank Him for that. And in it. But my heart...was completely elsewhere. As it was in most of the scenarios last semester when it just seemed so hopeless and I felt so utterly powerless to control anything-- and I am a person who secretly has a compulsion to control everything. If I were to admit that my life were anything but this beautiful masterpiece...Then that would be acknowledging something very similar to my own failure. In what, I don't know. But the thought of surrender was unbearable.

Fast forward many months later and here I see how every single step fell into place to bring me where I am today. Sure, I certainly don't have all of the answers, but I have the peace of mind and unburdened heart to see things in a better light. To step away from the seemingly meaningless and haphazardly placed blobs of paint to admire the way they all come together to form this beautiful Impressionist painting. To see the forest for I'm no longer in the trees. To see how God brings everything together, so perfectly, so wonderfully, so faithfully. In this past month alone, I have experienced countless miracles and answered prayers. I, who once never failed to pray prior to last semester in dire situations, turned away from reaching out to Him when I needed Him most because even though I knew, even though it was embedded in my heart and mind that He listens and He delivers...I just couldn't...I couldn't feel it. And I couldn't bring myself to continue something that I simultaneously knew to be effective yet felt was ineffectual. And still...He is faithful. If I ever had any doubts that God does not listen, that He does not answer prayers...I would be the biggest idiot of all time. Because after experiencing and seeing all of this joy, all of his magnificence, I would be...well, pretty damn stupid. Not only blind, deaf, and mute, but just...IQ of negative 023948309284. And I wouldn't deserve this awesome life He has bestowed upon me.

On February 21, as I stood there in front of Cabanel's "Naissance de Venus" and my mind rushed forward in time and space to compare it to Manet's "Olympe"...it just clicked. And it came back again. That recognition, that realization, that desire to search, to strive for understanding, to...just...know. And really, truly want to know as opposed to wanting to want to know. It was as if something completely missing from my heart had just fallen back into its proper place. Like a candle blown out was lit up once again. It's kind of like how I feel about God right now.

I'm not the best student. I procrastinate a ton, I don't do my work, I downright bullshit (and quite beautifully, at that) my way through school. I'm not the "best Christian", either. And according to some people's sense of that term, I never will be. To be honest, I don't really have that desire to be-- to conform myself to the ideals of that "perfect Christian" possessed by others. What is most important to me is not how I will be judged by others but how I will be judged not only by myself, but God. As Soo says, faith is between that person and God. No one else can determine who has more or less faith, who is doing more or less works for God; no one can pinpoint one's determinations and motivations in their spiritual lives. It's easier with schoolwork. We get a grade. But that grade is an improper measure of effort, of intellect. It's a letter or number designated by someone else marking down their opinion of our knowledge and work. Only God knows. I like that idea. In the end, what matters is that I believe and I know the truth. As much as I debate certain technicalities, as much as I pose all these doubts, fears, and questions about my faith, when it comes down to it, I have it. I believe. And I'll never again think that God doesn't listen, that He doesn't care, that He doesn't answer prayers. Because He does. Even when we don't have the heart to ask. Or maybe...especially then.