The Lost Fight

Lesson: to cry out and never stop

I’m a monster. I don’t know why no one sees it. I feel like a caged animal banging on these prison walls begging for someone to free me — free me from this person I hate. They don’t. Maybe because they don’t see who I am. So I’m forced to be this way and continue down this same miserable journey.

I could never call myself a man. I thought I was one. But I’ve become the very person I vowed to never become. This is, hands down without comparison, THE single most difficult statement I’ve ever made: I am my father’s child. I just lack opportunity. Most of you don’t know the weight of that statement. Very few of you have heard what my family has had to endure because of the person my father chose to be. I’m still shaking from writing that statement. My hands. My chest. My legs.

Whom the Son sets free is free indeed. – John 8:36

I believe this scripture with everything in me, but I question if God really meant what he said. Or was I misinformed? Did I misunderstand? Or am I just that blinded and that deeply enslaved to my desires?

What I desire is godly. What’s ungodly is the fact that I’m just not satisfied with him. Despite what people say, I don’t think we were meant to be satisfied on our own; however, I do believe that we are called to be content with wherever God places us for however long he places us there. In nearly 23 years, I’ve yet to pass this test once.

“I learned the meaning of contentment really fast. Wanting change while appreciating everything that you have.” – Sho Baraka, “Words, 2006”

This may be back peddling a bit, but I’d say I’m content in light of this definition — the best definition of contentment I’ve ever heard actually. But the problem is that I’m not ok.

VERSE 1
Jesus have your way
I don’t know what else to say
I’m trying Lord but I’m not trying hard enough
I fail every single day
I know I’m flawed but so are they
How does discipline come so easy for others?
And on top of that God I crave
this blessing that’s in my face
for it all of my life I’ve prayed
And I’ve sought you on my face

Lord can I please see
in some area relief
Before that time comes?

VERSE 2
I’m asking Jesus have your way
I wanna give up today
I’ve never been a quitter but once shouldn’t hurt
My God I long and thirst
To go through a rebirth
After all these years and years it’s still the same
God something’s gotta give
This ain’t my first time saying this, no
My God I need your sovereign hand
When will I see the end result of your plan?

Lord can I please see
In some area relief
Before that time comes?

BRIDGE
I’ve tried everything else and I found that I have nothing

– Christian Sanders, “Have Your Way”

If anyone has ever seen me perform, you’ve probably heard my song “Have Your Way.” I’ve never done a performance without singing that song. I wrote those words in my dorm while sitting at my desk as a freshman in college watching everything around me crumble. I thought I couldn’t sink any lower. Five years later, I’m realizing that rock bottom is actually much lower than I believed it to be. I confess to everyone reading this that although I meant every word of that song, and although I’m currently working with a band to perform that song and many others for a month straight, a large part of me cringes with every request: “Jesus have your way. Manifest your will. Perform your plan. Your perfect plan. God I trust you. Do what you do. Complete your work in me Lord.”

I sing that song with such phony authenticity. I’m actually not ok with God having his way. I don’t like his plan. I’ve suffered too much. Life has been far too difficult for me. But I don’t hesitate to make the request anyway. I don’t know why. It’s almost as if my passion for ministry equates the measure of wretchedness that simmers within this monstrous soul. The fight is endless, and I lose nearly every time. Explain to me, how am I actually free?

Years from today, I’ll probably laugh at the fact that I think I’m very close to rock bottom right now.

I’m waiting for the opportunity to do wrong because the opportunity to do right never comes. I’m sick of being who I am, but the words “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13) make me wonder why Paul spoke in such obscure metaphors. I can’t be strong. There’s no way. I’ve fought for too long, and although I can continue limping through this journey, I cannot fight any longer. Until someone steps in the ring for me, I lose. I’ve been losing for a long time now. The message I just received on my phone shows it.

Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. The more I live life, the more I realize I know nothing. What does any of this mean? I’m not going anywhere. I’ve seen God in ways you’d never believe. But the more I think of scriptures I’ve grown up reading and the more I live life I wonder who God is in relation to me. Why are you not delivering? Why are you not disappointed? Redemption and sanctification really does seem counterintuitive.

I’m out of time, so I’ll just say this: if you’re reading this, I’m begging you to fight for me. I’m begging you to realize that in an effort to be like Christ, Christians are called to inconvenience themselves and walk with people daily for the sake of Christ’s cause — his Great Commission. Walking with someone does not mean communicating direction from afar; on the contrary, it entails finding direction and walking that path together holding one another up the entire way. Christianity is an inconvenient religion. It requires you to lay yourself aside. Fully. In my years of toil and struggle, I’ve learned that believers need the gospel more than unbelievers do because we get so proudly used to the mundane that we actually forget what a Christian is, and we fail to be one.

You must warn each other every day, while it is still “today,” so that none of you will be deceived by sin and hardened against God. – Hebrews 3:13 NLT