And I'm in that place once again.

Or have I ever been in this place? I'm not sure. Or maybe I've just never realized what was going on.

 One thing I've come to realize in the last several of days is that I've been blaming others when I feel like I'm not connected to God. When I want to worship but I can't, it's because the leader is playing in a key that I can't sing in, or just because I can't stand the style. Or maybe it's just because I don't know the song. When I'm trying to spend time with Jesus alone, but I just don't feel Him - it's got to be "this season" I'm going through. It's not my fault. At prayer meetings, I would come up with this most ridiculous excuses. I feel out of place because I'm the only guy here this week, and I'm the oldest. And along with that, realizing that I've been starting to depend on others to break through that initial veil for me so I could get that connection. I've been getting used to just being able to come into a place, and being able to worship, and give everything up to God. Once, in one of the smaller prayer groups, no one else wanted to lead worship, so I picked up the guitar, thinking why not? I played a couple of songs and put the guitar down, not knowing why it just felt forced and that it was different then when i played alone, or when I was just jamming. This time, the excuse was, I'm just not anointed in musical worship. And I actually didn't ever want to lead worship again. The more I think about it, the more I feel so ashamed and so embarrassed.

 And I couldn't help but wonder what it was that took away those two months of just, pure, heartfelt worship away every Sunday at church, every night upstairs, every time I spent time with Him. From being able to experience a glorious experience every moment, to a sudden flatness. Where I learned to worship in faith. But even then, I always had a question of why God would take it away. I mean, it's not necessary, but I thought that it was a good thing. It gave me affirmation that God loved it when I came before Him. And then it clicked. Pride.

Two days ago, I picked up the book, The Pursuit of God, by A.W. Tozer. It was a book where I've read the first two chapters, amazed at how much I agreed with the book. Until the third chapter, Removing the Veil. The chapter first explains that "God wills that we should push on into His Presence and live our whole life there." And this book just hits the spot in explaining a lot of the questions I have in each different phase I'm in. I was always confused, sometimes more, sometimes less, depending on how I felt whenever the pastor or someone in a prayer gathering would mention that the presence of God is so heavy in the room. It was confusing to me because I had always though that God is present everywhere. But Tozer explains, "The omnipresence of the Lord is one thing, and is a solemn fact necessary to His perfection; the manifest Presence is another thing altogether, and from that Presence we have fled, like Adam, to hide among the tress of the garden, or like Peter to shrink away crying, "depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." And then illustrating the difference by using the veil that separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the tabernacle. How when Jesus died on the cross for us, the veil was torn apart for "every worshiper in the world to come by the new and living way straight into the divine Presence."

 So this is where I was really happy. I was like YES! So how do I understand this, and how do I return into His Presence? This is where I started to realize how much of a feeler I am, after meeting up with a friend I haven't seen in a couple of years just to catch up and share our struggles and how God was working in our lives. He mentioned something about how feelers are always moody because we live on how we feel. That doesn't mean feelers can't be stable, but it's just all about, how everything feels. The book then delves deeper in what this "veil" is all about:

"We have but to look in our own hearts and we shall see it there, sewn and patched and repaired it may be, but there nevertheless, an enemy to our lives and an effective block to our spiritual progress."

"This veil is not a beautiful thing and it is not a thing about which we commonly care to talk, but I am addressing the thirsting souls who area determined to follow God. and I know they will not turn back because the way leads temporarily through blackened hills. The urge of god within them will assure their continuing the pursuit. They will face the facts however unpleasant and endure the cross for the joy set before them. So I am bold to name the threads out of which this inner veil is woven."

The veil is something we are. Tozer explains that we are powerless because these self-sins, namely self righteousness, self admiration... etc... dwell too deep within us and are a part of our natures so we can't recognize them until the light of God is focused on them.

And I immediately remember the first time I met up with my youth pastor for an evaluation back in high school. He sensed that I had a lot of pride. Pride in serving the church, and feelings of self-righteousness. And while it was hard to eat and admit it, I knew it was true. But yet, the thought never even crossed my mind before. I was always so insecure, that I thought that there was no way that pride would ever get a hold on me, but before I knew it, there it was.

And that's why I've been coming up with all these excuses. I was prideful. I was dealing with something that I didnt' even know I had. And I think some of this even goes back to why I was struggling with the church I left several months ago. The more I dwell upon it now, the more and more I realize how blind I am.

And so in this season of surrendering, I realized that God is cleansing me. God wants all of me, not just some of it. That God doesn't want to negotiate, God wants everything. I've gotten a word from someone that God held a torch, and stuck it into my stomach. And that he was burning away all the residue that wasn't of Him. And when I first got that word, I was like wow. And then began the process of God just opening my eyes to see all the compromise in my life.

And it's been hard, but it's been good. Yesterday, I knew that God was going to speak to me at church. And He did. Sometimes, I can get a sense of when things are changing because it just so happens that the songs I sing shift or cycle. And early morning on Saturday, I just kept on singing songs that led me to remind me that I'm His beloved. That he loves me. That I'm a lover of His Presence. And that should be the only basis on why I should seek after Him. And then Sunday morning, worship was composed of songs all pointing towards His love for us, but in a sense that there is no turning back, and that I am not going to hold anything back. That He wants everything, all of me. We asked God to set a fire in our hearts that we can't control or explain. And it was so funny because the whole time, I just felt a burning in my heart. No, it wasn't because I didn't eat breakfast or lunch, but because I knew that God was stirring in my heart, that he was working in me. But even through these times, when it's hard because it's never easy to be purged, God has been encouraging me. I feel like I have a better understand of God's love for me now, than even before God opened my eyes to all of the junk I have in me. God is good. All the time.

The Final Quest

So along with the textbooks I ordered, I also decided to add The Vision, by Rick Joyner. My friend let me borrow The Final Quest, and The Vision is the two-in-one version which has both The Final Quest, and the sequel The Call. Instead of starting directly from The Call, where the trance would continue, I decided that I should re-read The Final Quest, as I knew that I would have to re-read it again because it's so complex and there is no way that me reading it through once for the sake of just completing the book would suffice. And as I'm reading it through the second time, I'm trying to read it with a more application mindset.

"Those who had not been wounded soon gave up trying to fight off the cultures and began running from the scene of battle. This first encounter with the enemy was so devastating that I was tempted to join in their flight. Then, incredibly fast, some of those who had fled began reappearing with full suits of armor on, holding large shields. This was the first bit of encouragement that I remember seeing.
These warriors who were returning no longer had the mirth of the party, but an awesome resolve had now replaced it. I knew that although they had been deceived once, they would not be easily deceived again. They began to take the places of those who had fallen, and even began forming new ranks to protect the rear flanks."

I just realized that that's me. That's exactly how I feel. Through all these years I thought I knew it all. I thought I was a believer - which I was; but, there was so much more that I didn't get. I was deceived in that I had "accepted" Christ, but I really didn't "crave any further revelation of God to our souls." as Tozer describes.

Being the guy that finds it really difficult to explain how I feel... yesterday I read chapter one of Tozer's The Pursuit of God. He sums up how I feel quite comprehensively:
"In the midst of this great chill there are some, I rejoice to acknowledge, who will not be content with shallow logic. They will admit the force of the argument, and then turn away with tears to hunt some lonely place and pray, to couch with their hearts, to see with their inner eyes, the wonder that is God."

Skipping a paragraph, he continues: "Every age has its own characteristics. Right now we are in an age of religious complexity. The simplicity which is in Christ is rarely found among us. In its stead are programs, methods, organizations, and a world of nervous activities which occupy time and attention but can never satisfy the longing of the heart. The shallowness of our inner experience, the hollowness of our worship, and that servile imitation of the world which marks our promotional methods all testify that we, in this day, know God only imperfectly, and the peace of God scarcely at all."
Tozer, The Pursuit of God

When I read through this whole first chapter, I was shaken by every page. Every page seemingly described my every thought and feeling exactly, and even more so. I feel that while I was a believer growing up, I never had that want to seek after God. I never craved him, never pursued him. I never sought to worship him and to see his face. And until four or five months ago, that's how I lived. I knew a little about him, read his word every day, went to church, and I was satisfied. I'm not saying it felt right, but I was satisfied and content with what I was getting. But when I finally experienced him, however you want to describe that. Meeting the Holy Spirit, experiencing the Holy Spirit, felt the presence of God, I was touched. It all changed. In that one second, what was seemingly so ethereal, so distant, so unreal was all of a sudden so real, so tangible. And that made me want more. It made me realize that there was so much more than what I was doing. I felt empty, knowing that I was complacent and content with singing worship songs every Sunday morning, and listening and trying to apply what was said during the sermon after. Knowing that I spent time every day reading and in prayer, just hoping God would answer them. And of course, some of my prayers were answered, before I even understood what it all meant. And because of that I feel that I had developed a strong faith in God, even though I couldn't see him, and didn't know him personally. I knew that he cared for me when he showed me that he was greater than me. That he would take care of me and that he loves me and my family. When he cured my father from cancer, and when he provided for us when my dad had to take a medical leave. And while I was so bitter at myself, at my home church that I had attended all my life because they never seemingly showed me how real God was; I've come to and understanding that if I didn't go through all that, I probably would still be in the dark now. I needed to experience God's goodness, grace,  provision - I needed to experience his love for me first.

And while I have previously accused most of my old understanding of God because of my Asian conservative church, I find that to be completely false. I don't think that would be an accurate nor just accusation. This has nothing to do with me leaning towards any denomination of Christianity or anything of that sort. I wouldn't categorize myself, partly because I don't really have a good grasp of what all the denominations mean in the first place, and I won't until then. But even then, I'm just a man radically pursuing God to the fullest of my ability.