"You have amazing insights."
If I was honest, I would say that this is perhaps the most common response to my blogging. It is a kind comment for sure, as are most comments here, and I am thankful and encouraged by each one. I do, however, sometimes wonder if being recognized for mere "insight" satisfies me too much. Yes, I do posses a weird capability for discovering something interesting from seemingly insignificant moments such as taking out the trash or driving down the interstate. The world is brimming with lessons and reflections of incredible truths. And that is mostly what I use this blog for; writing down the trivial, sometimes interesting insights I collect during the course of my existence. (And yes, those insights have been running dry around here lately, but please be patient with me.)
The thought of being appreciated for written insights used to hold a great deal of pleasure for me. Until I realized that creating a shiny museum of various and sundry "godly thoughts" wasn't really my God-given purpose in life. And that explosive revelation came from a now beloved author named Brennan Manning. About three months ago my eyes grazed these words that led to a complete renovation of my life and my faith. Manning begins the first chapter of his book Ruthless Trust with these words:
This book started writing itself with a remark from my spiritual director. "Brennan, you don't need any more insights into the faith," he observed. "You've got enough insights to last you three hundred years. The most urgent need in your life is to trust what you have received." [emphasis mine]
My eyes would move no further. Those words weren't only meant for Brennan Manning. They were meant for me. I felt the urgency of this conviction. My shallow appetite for the comfortable was exposed. I've filled this blog with over 300 "insightful" posts, but how well do I really trust what I've sometimes casually written? It is far easier to observe and discuss the beauty and intensity of the Christian faith rather than to recklessly cast myself, my dreams, my fears, my insecurities, my infatuation with safety onto an unflinching trust in Jesus Christ.
It is one thing to appreciate truth. It is quite another to trust it. "Insight" denotes an understanding of something. "Trust" tastes like responsibility and commitment. But understand, one is not wrong and the other right. Both are obviously needed for faith in God, as I am learning. Insight and trust nourish each other. By understanding truth in ways that are engaging and applicable, our trust in God should be fed. In turn, in our desperate quest to trust God, we gain a deeper and greater appreciation of what exactly we do or don't understand.
The challenge to actually trust God forced me to to deconstruct what I had spent my life constructing, to stop clutching what I was so afraid of losing, to question my personal investment in every word I had ever written or spoken about Jesus Christ and fearlessly ask myself if I trusted Him. (Manning)
That is the question I am forcing myself to answer. Am I content to observe and record my faith in Christ from a safe distance without risking personal investment in the truth that I share or claim to believe? More than ever before, I hope that I may humbly answer "no." It is worthless to make bold claims about God's goodness, His grace, His love, and His faithfulness without fearlessly offering my whole self on the altar of my assertions.
