A note to those losing their passion

Last week I watched an old lady die. She did so, full of faith and hope. It was painful. It was my mum. But inspiring. And ever since I’ve been reflecting why is it for so many that age kills or deadens faith.

Faith brings life to life. It gives perspective, passion and purpose. It gives every day an edge as though it was our last, and takes the edge off our last day as though it were just one more. I wake knowing my Heavenly Father, and live every second to know Him better. Life becomes a classic romance, an adventure of living and loving. I may not understand everything, but I know enough to appreciate nothing is wasted or left to chance. Christ continues to write His story in me.

The other day I joined a group of Kenyan girls with my bucket at the standpipe, and then took a taxi to the airport to fly business class to London. In so many ways the lives I saw in both contexts were worlds apart. In others they were one and the same. The ultimate question is not are you rich or poor, educated or illiterate, black or white. It is do you believe in Christ or not? I’d much prefer to live by a standpipe in faith than in the Hilton perishing.

You may have felt the same once. Then you got distracted, disillusioned or disappointed. Most who lose faith get distracted. Jesus’ parable of the sower talks about seed which has no root, either on the path or in shallow ground. Of course it gets taken or withers. Don’t blame the seed. You never gave it a chance. You may though feel you did give it a good go. You buried your seed deep. But then God flunked His bit. Jesus continues in his story that weeds grow up, choke the plant and it bears no fruit. Can there be any thing more disappointing than giving your life to an apparently fruitless task? I sympathise. You have every right to join the disillusioned and disappointed. Just two words of advice. First make sure it is God you should be disillusioned with, and not just your form of religion. Second don’t just walk… talk! Tell Him about your disappointment, and let Him respond. The Psalms are largely just that.

When I wrote the book Patriarch, I followed a rich but ultimately hurting and weak man on a journey of faith. He doubted, failed, and walked away from God; not once but again and again. Ultimately he found faith. But the reason I love the story of Abraham is that it is a brutally honest account of life, four thousand years ago, and not a lot has changed really. Money, sex, power, faith. You pays your money and you make your choice. My choice is to live well, and so to die better. And for that I need Christ in every part, not just in name, but in crazy, scary, messy reality.