Growing edges 

This past week, I’ve become painfully aware of my own growing edges. As far as I’ve come on my own spiritual path, I still have so far to go.

One beautiful truth that has risen out of the ashes of my recent pain: God’s love and power is persuasive. Not coercive. Perfect love allows freedom. It does not demand blind obedience. It does not demand anything. Compassion always meets the other where they are. And this is where I’m finding I struggle.

I’ve spent some time revisiting my old theological stomping grounds–Fundamentalism. I want to understand the why behind that mindset, so that I can find greater compassion for those that choose that particular system of beliefs. 

So much of the need for theological certainty stems from human fear of the unknown. I no longer live in that fear, I’ve embraced it. So, how can I show compassion for the fearful? How can I live into God’s love when the other clings to a black and white understanding of reality?

That’s where I am right now. Asking God to change my heart in ways that will allow me to show His love and compassion for those that think and believe so differently from me, despite the fact that we both believe in Christ as the Son of God. 

Somehow, I suspect that my sheer willingness to learn and grow here will result in my growth. Allowing God’s persuasive power to lead me to new pastures has, in the past, provided me with exactly what I found lacking. I’m certain it will in this instance as well:)

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One thought on “Growing edges 

  1. Interesting you mention fundamentalism. For the past few weeks I have been rather hateful towards them. I didn’t like how ugly I felt so I took a break from reading blogs and blogging. I felt too angry at them and my blog posts prove it 😜. Yesterday and today I have felt different. More like sad. I feel sorrow over all of it. I should be praying for them but I am finding that hard to do. I don’t necessarily pity them or think I am better but I am sorrowful over the sin, sorrowful over broken trust & relationships. There are things I miss about being in the church. One thing was I felt (however dubious) that I had something I was connected to. Even though I faced a lot of hurt, I also had relationships there. I miss those times where I felt not so alone. I could always email the pastor when I felt stuck. But I know that was a smokescreen. God wanted me to seek him. Not man. But I feel sad about the failure. I don’t hate them. I wish I could talk to them and smooth everything over and I didn’t feel so sad. I wish the broken pieces weren’t broken.

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