In a crowded room full of emotionally-charged peers all worshipping together, it's easy to feel like faith is real and strong. It's easy to think that my faith is unshakeable, that it permeates my entire life, that it dictates all of my thoughts and actions. And when the music stops and the lights come on I am reminded of how deep my emotions delve. They get me no further than out the door of that crowded room and I'm back to being nervous and hesitant, embarrassed by my profession of faith, apathetic and lethargic about my obedience to Christ. How easily I forget that my life has been shaped by my faith. I still want to live in my flesh.
Faith has high moments, like that crowded room experience. But most of my life is not like that emotional high. It's drudgery. It's stale. It's sort of not fun more than I'd like to admit. And yet, my faith must define those monotonous moments in my life. Faith has to influence every thing I do, everything thought I think, every word I say, even (or especially) in the moments where I feel like it doesn't matter at all. The trap is broad: to limit my faith to segments of my life is to live without faith at all. My God so loved me that Christ's blood has been spilt for all of me, not the 'spiritual' parts only. Because of the Hope that I rejoice in, I may now surrender my political views, my family heritage, my morals, my checkbook, my mind, my car, and my conversation to the transforming power of the Lord. My faith is from the Lord and He is at work in every area of my life. I am made new. Nothing has been left untouched. Every part of me ought to be governed by this 'faith' I can now have in the person Jesus Christ.
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