But I’m a creep,
I’m a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here.
— Radiohead, Creep
I have a confession to make.
I have a spiritual self-esteem problem.
No, it’s not that I think that I’m too much of a loser for God’s grace to reach me. It’s not related to any belief that I’m not doing “enough” to be in God’s kingdom. As my faith nears the end of its second decade, I am more secure in the knowledge of God’s “tidal wave of Grace” (which has washed over even me) than I ever have been in my life.
But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo.
It’s gotten to the point that I want to stop the sermons. Play some iPhone games in the service. Listen to some music. Watch football. Whatever.
It’s just more stuff that I can’t do, and I can’t stand to hear anymore.
I’m a husband and father of three. I have an incredibly responsible job with a longer commute than I would like. Oh, and the economy is lousy so there’s a lot more pressure to keep the balls in the air.
And it’s left me with a gap. A gap between the journey that I would like to be on and the one I find myself with. A gap between my desires to live into God’s kingdom and the reality of a life with very little space for that.
Oh, and did I mention that there are (at least) four other people who have a vote in what direction my life goes in (and rightly so)?
So I want to turn it off.
Stop listening.
Just be content with being ethical at work, loving to my family, and a stable provider (all important things). But no more.
And yet I still feel like a loser. A spiritual half-empty glass.
The stakes are higher now. My oldest son has begun his journey toward Christ (praise be to God). I desperately want him (and the two younger ones) to walk beside Christ the way I envisioned myself doing when I came out of college. A way which seems so thoroughly buried by life that it seems to have disappeared from view. But what I model to him now will become his faith (or lack thereof) later. And I don’t like the model.
So I continue to go to church. But when I’m there, I can’t help thinking: “I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.”