Finally. This is it, I promise:
It was shortly after Christmas break came to a close. I had already readjusted my sloth-like work ethic that had taken a massive hit over the five-week absence from Fayetteville. My friends and I decided it would be fitting to make a weekend visit to Little Rock to attend our old high school’s basketball homecoming, and take advantage of the opportunity to catch up with old friends and favorite teachers. Completely ignorant to my errant state of mind, I waltzed in that gym with a large sign labeled “self-righteous” on my forehead and began to spout off one lie after another about how I was doing at college.
“God is so important to you when you go off to college,” I told some. I continued the conversation talking about how well things were going in my Christian fraternity, and how one can attend the University of Arkansas and manage to stay solid. The real truth be told, I hadn’t been “solid” once in my life; I was a hypocrite – a weak, mushy hypocrite. I claimed to attribute the meaning of this life on planet earth to the one true God, and that His son’s death on the cross is the reason that we can have hope in death. How dare I claim what I had never taken ownership of?
The realization didn’t hit me until I was driving my friends back to Fayetteville on the Sunday afternoon of that same weekend. The feeling was inexplicable, like an unforeseen, open-hand slap to the face. Every word spoken in the car for those three hours was difficult to recognize; I was fixated on things above for once in my life. It was like God – the Father of all, who made me – grabbed me by the neck and said, “James Steven Wade, you are mine. Start acting like it.” Now, I am not one to question God’s timing (now matter how sudden or curious), so I took this unanticipated epiphany as serious as I had ever taken anything in my life.
Up to that point I had never known what it was like to live more than just a short time for the savior of the world. Even after my anxiety left me temporarily, I continued wallowing through the self-indulgent, complacent lifestyle I had always known. My Father in heaven called me out that day on all the hollow, sugar-coated things I had told people that had no heart behind them at all. Driving my friends down the highway to Fayetteville certainly wasn’t a mountaintop experience, but it was sufficient for God to let me know how much my life was lacking in the reality department.
I remember the days following my return to Fayetteville quite well. A modern Ice Age led a full-fledged attack on our campus, leaving several of my friends and I with a substantial amount of time on our hands. Four consecutive days of freedom from classes gave me ample opportunities to reflect on God’s perfect timing. It was like I was experiencing Christianity for the first time; people, the world, and even the Bible seemed new to me. In about ten days, I dove into around twenty books of the New Testament; it was my first attempt at taking the teachings of the Bible and actually applying them to my experience. A feeling of God beside me grew powerful quickly; everywhere I went I could feel his reminder to worship Him in everything I did. The name, “Jesus Christ” gave me a light and upbeat sense – there was nothing but hope on my horizon in those days. In everything there was a purpose; looking for ways to praise the Lord became my passion. Sporting accessories bearing symbols of Christ actually meant something to me, so I collected as many as I could get my hands on.
There was a spiritual bonfire blazing inside of me – the spiritual high of all spiritual highs. In of all of this, however, was how I knew that being a real Christian wasn’t about the fuzzy feeling one gets when they finally feel convicted for being a human. God and I both knew that the flame would eventually be snuffed, and I would not have the feeling of flying high that I once had. Every new and amazing thing is ultimately gotten used to in the end, where it doesn’t seem so amazing anymore. The same applies to Christianity. The fuzzy feeling dies because we are a fallen people in a fallen world. New distractions are constantly being put in front of us that jump ahead of God on our priority list because they are “new.” I’ve come to figure out that being fully aware of the dangers of “the dying of the flame” is the best way to deal with it. Letting myself give into the fading of a spiritual high will only pave the way back to the ineffective existence I once practiced. And that’s where I am now – fighting. Fighting against every distraction and shortcoming of mine to live for what everyone is here for. No, I do not feel exhilarated with a bursting religious fervor every morning when I wake up or every night when I go to sleep. But, I realize exactly what will lead me back to the low point of my life – that’s giving into the desire to please myself before the One who made me in His image.
Grace and Peace,
J. S. Wade
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