Sunday Thoughts to Miss Breakfast For

by joanabagano

Discomfort is probably something none of us would want to deal with. We go about our daily lives working to have peace at the end of the day or the week, not realizing that the idea of having to chase after peace or work for it is some sort of discomfort. Sometimes we lie around lazily, refusing to believe that something needs to be done, thinking we’d rather be in control of our time.  The refusal is not shooing away discomfort but actually inviting it in to become a part of us after we realize we haven’t done anything quite productive. And the things we do between working and lying around are pretty much tinted with unease as well, because motion is practically the change of position from a comfortable stance to an uncomfortable one or vice versa.

Discomfort has been naturally weaved into our lives and whether we’d like to believe it or not, the facts of everyday tell us that we’re never going to be well-fixed – decisions, outcomes, reactions, name it, we’re never going to be sure. And doubt, yes, doubt, is one of the biggest discomforts.

I will never be sure of what I believe in but I am convinced that it is true. Well, every morning, I have to be reminded that I am convinced. And so I try.

I read my Bible and some other books on faith, wrapping myself around their words, basking in the truth that they want to convey. I feel really sure for a moment and then I don’t. One minute I’m walking by faith and then the next I find myself opening my eyes to a dark room, blindly groping for the walls just to assure myself that I am not in a hollow place devoid of anything to hold on to. And then I realize that the walls are there but they seem to never be ending.

I wasn’t this way at first. My first few years of being a Christian were joyful. I hung out with friends, felt the “peace beyond understanding” that Christ offered, hung out with friends some more and felt the peace some more. I didn’t have a problem reading my Bible because I was hungry everyday. I wanted that deeper knowledge, that deeper love, everyday. It felt easy. I felt comfortable.

Well, not really. Looking back, I realized that I wasn’t necessarily free. When you’re blinded to the realities of the world, the Christian life is all rainbows and butterflies. You get Christian friends and you stay with them, you stick with them because you have made for yourself a happy little world within this not really happy and not really little world. You think you have the truth lodged in your hands but no, you have actually blotted it out.

I have to be honest of an observation. A lot of Christians today, myself not excluded, are sitting in their own comfortable couches and watching the world go by as if everything is on television. They see wars and famine and they go, “Tsk tsk tsk. I’m just really thankful that it’s not happening to me,” and grab the remote and switch to a televangelism episode, agreeing with the pastor speaking of social justice and how Christians today should pray for the government. I have subconsciously become content of knowing about the world and praying for it but not physically involving myself in its worries and cares. I have distanced my faith from the works it can produce. It struck me two days ago that this is somehow equal to being apathetic and since then I haven’t been sleeping well.

It’s a different thing when we expose ourselves to the world. I don’t know how a lot of Christians would respond but I know that whenever some go out and immerse themselves in the “harsh realities” of life by visiting poverty-stricken areas and war-torn countries, a few realize that they have been living in a bubble all along. There is so much out there that we can’t take, so much than what we see on primetime news. There are bigger discomforts than our concerns on what to wear or how to showcase our talent or if a particular person likes us. These aren’t all wrong but in this world that we say we refuse to be a part of, they have become vanities indeed. We are now so attuned to our individuality that we’re actually no different than before we first believed.

Christianity is all about identifying with discomfort and caring and loving because that is exactly what Jesus Christ did. He didn’t say He was thankful that God blessed Him and moved on to listen to what the Pharisees or the teachers of the law had to say. He made himself uncomfortable in the houses of heathens and the company of women and sinners and He cared for them and He loved them. He broke bread with them and served them.  I don’t know why we shouldn’t do the same.

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