wrinkled old man

yesterday in conversation, a friend told me that she just had a really quick image of me in her mind as an old man, with gray in my beard and hair and wrinkles on my face from all my smiling and laughing. that observation made me really happy. it felt like a nice compliment. that passing thought made me think about my blessed life. wrinkles from smiles and laughter are welcomed by me, gray hair too for that matter.

life is hard. there is so much with which to struggle, to doubt and to dislike. a lot lately, i've found myself unsatisfied with theology and doctrine (even though i enjoy studying them both) and pithy church sayings. more questions come in theology, each answer begging another less satisfying question. it never ends. doctrine is so diverse, i wonder how we could ever really hold to something. the speech that flows so cavalierly from believers lips can have no meaning or weight because they are simply words.

i struggle.
God loves me.

i doubt.
God loves me.

i question.
God loves me.

i yell at Him.
He loves me.

if i may... what the crap? every time, He is there. every time, i feel God loving me. every time. sometimes that love confounds me. sometimes that love comforts me. sometimes it just angers me. i cannot turn away from it, i cannot help but feel it and i cannot begin to explain it. God loves me and it doesn't make sense.

so much doesn't make sense. the christian faith is reasonable, logical and well-defended. if apologetics are what you're after, you're in luck. there is proof everywhere. truthfully, i don't know if i care about that proof. i understand it but that isn't what convinces me. God still doesn't really make sense no matter how much i try to prove that He does.

because at the end of the day, at the start for that matter, i have to wrap my mind around God loving me. most days, that seems pretty unbelievable, a skeptic's unbelief. it's glorious, but crazy. the whole gospel is that: a stumbling block, foolishness. that's where its power is, for those who do believe. that's why it works, because it shouldn't. it isn't natural: it's divine. it doesn't really make sense, but it does give life.

i'm like thomas. i doubt and question and don't believe. i want to put my hand in Jesus' side, just to know he's real. but if the chance ever came, i think that i, like him, wouldn't go through with it. i'd rather just believe. and Jesus' words to him, to me, to us - "do not disbelieve, but believe...blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" - are why i'll have wrinkles, why i'm happy to have them. i have joy in that belief, joy which allows me to smile and laugh in the midst of complete and utter confusion.

beyond all doubt i believe deeply, in my core. i know God is there and, to steal a line from francis schaeffer, He's not silent. i know He loves me, because i've seen and felt it, not because i figured out how to manufacture it. i know He loves me because i love Him. i can never manufacture His love in me, oh how i've tried. God displays His love for me in ways i cannot explain, usually while i'm being completely petulant. His grace is sufficient, i'm actually believing that. and a subdued smile has washed over me just thinking about it. God, wrinkle me up.