**Guest post by Demian Farnworth at Fallen and Flawed.**
My son owns a red tricycle. Behind that tricycle he likes to pull a red wagon. He likes to haul stuff around in that little wagon.
One day he lugged a large, faded plastic Joseph (from an old nativity set) around. I asked my son, “Who’s in your wagon?”
“Joseph.”
“Jesus’ father,” I said.
He looked back at the faded Joseph. Then back at me. “Yeah, God’s dad.”
I chuckled. But then it struck me–that’s exactly what we do with God…that’s exactly what I did with God. Let me explain.
Destroying My Family
Not long ago there was a time in my life when, as a Christian, I toyed with God. Yes, I said the prayer, bought the Bible, spent a lot of time at church.
But something was wrong. Very wrong.
See, throughout the first ten years of my so called Christian walk, I obsessed about one thing and one thing only: Becoming a world famous writer.
Much to the disappointment of my wife, this ambition took first place to everything else–my marriage, children, work–and even church.
In fact, I believed it was a very natural thing to neglect your wife, children and God for the sake of art. But you want to know the really sad part? I was miserable.
I lived that way for ten years until I finally crashed and burned. And it’s no surprise that when we are bent on our own way that we eventually crash and burn. The Bible teaches that pride comes before the fall.
So true.
The Happy Ending
In the end, I wasn’t pulling God around in my little wagon. I pulled around a resin coated image of God. The real God was waiting for me to surrender.
Listen: God is not a toy. Nor someone who tags along. He’s not our “co-pilot.” He’s the Creator. The guide who blazes the path. The pilot who’s behind the divine rescue mission called salvation.
In essence: He’s in control. And usually we’re out of control.
So let me challenge you with this: How’s your spiritual life? Is it full of joy? Peace? Or is it dominated by frustration and anxiety?
If the latter, there’s good news: You don’t have to live like that. A full, complete surrender to God means incomprehensible joy and peace.
It means you get to play like a child again. Which sounds like a lot of fun, don’t you think?
Author Bio: Demian Farnworth is keynote blogger for Fallen and Flawed.
Enjoy this post? Subscribe to blog updates via email or via RSS
**Guest post by Demian Farnworth at Fallen and Flawed.**
Right here. Right now. I’m coining a new word: “confessional reformed narrative.”
What do I mean by that? Simply this: a “confessional reformed narrative” is a book on reformed doctrine couched in stories–the author’s and others.
Think Unfashionable by Tullian T. Or Why We’re Not Emergent by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck.
Don’t get me wrong. This is not a bad thing.
Just a trend I’ve noticed. A trend, I speculate, cropping up to answer Emergent writers emphasis on “narrative.”
“Sure,” these writers seem to be saying, “you can have your narrative. But not without something to stand on.”
It’s that “something to stand on” that makes them reformed.
Josh Harris’ newest book Dug Down Deep–Unearthing What I Believe and Why It Matters falls into this “confessional reformed narrative” category.
Harris of I Kissed Dating Goodbye fame is all grown up now. He’s entered the early stages of mid-life. And now he’s wondering what in the world he believed in the past–it certainly wasn’t sturdy or even safe.
Page through this highly-readable book and what you discover is that seemingly worn-out words like theology, doctrine and orthodoxy ARE important. Especially if he wants to walk on the “pathway of the mysterious, awe-filled experience of truly knowing the living Jesus Christ.”
In essence, Harris argues that theology matters. And he aims to teach you theology. He aims to give your faith something to stand on. But with a slant. His slant.
Like any good theologian, he starts with the character of God. Theology proper…
But you wouldn’t know that from the chapter title “Near but Not in My Pocket” or the chapter sub-title “God is utterly different from me. And that is utterly wonderful.”
Or take the chapter on Christology: “God with a Bellybutton.”
See that? This is his method. And it’s clever. Indeed, once you read the chapter you almost want to lynch him for being so clever.
The great part is he never lets up…from one doctrine to the next.
So what Dug Down Deep ends up being is a great introduction to theology. The structure of our belief. Which, as Harris points out, is significant:
“Many of us are not theologically informed. Truth about God doesn’t define us and shape us.”
What does shape us? Our culture. Is that what you want?
More tantalizingly, though, are the stories–the confessions and narratives threaded throughout his book.
Forgive me, but tales about drunk Amish teenagers, a remarkably-well drawn cartoon to explain our struggle with flesh AND the sneak-peek into Harris’ one-time live-in mentorship with pastor C. J. Maheny–to name just a few–are captivating.
To be serious though, the real gem is the last chapter “Humble Orthodoxy.” A chapter that points out that hostility or arrogance has no place in historical Christian faith because, in the end, there will only be one right person.
You can probably figure out who that person is.
Demian Farnworth is keynote blogger for Fallen and Flawed.
Enjoy this post? Subscribe to blog updates via email or via RSS