Next month will be three years since I started blogging. Ironically {or not}, I’ve been in the battle of my life for three years. Maybe I should rephrase and say…a battle for my life, for my faith.

I’ve been in an almost-constant war with myself, fighting for what I’m going to believe. Am I going to believe the stale, dry, behavior-based religious crap that’s been so prevalent throughout my life? Or am I going to trust in the God who is grace and mercy and love, who has made Himself known over the last three years?

There’s a constant game of tug of war going on in my mind.

Unfortunately for you readers, the battle spills out of my mind onto my screen. This is where I wrestle.  This is where I find out what I believe, or at least, what I want to believe. This is where I determine what’s worth holding onto, what’s truth. This is where I try to figure out if my beliefs are my own, or if I’m clinging to someone else’s.

This faith thing isn’t at all what I’ve always thought it to be. Ten years ago I knew what I believed. Even five years ago I knew what I believed.

But now…

I feel as though my entire belief system has been uprooted, and a new one is being planted in its place.

For sure, the old one wasn’t growing anymore. Religion that speaks “truth in love,” which really ends up being no more than placing demands on people with a my-way-or-the-highway attitude, no longer has any appeal.

What I seem to be settling into is the knowledge that God is love and mercy and grace. But true love, grace and mercy are rarely taught or demonstrated in the fundamental, evangelical churches where I’ve spent my life…so I feel the ground beneath my feet shifting.

I’ll be blunt…real love is messy. And when you’re not used to it, well…it ain’t easy. It’s sacrificial. And I’m not great at sacrifice. I’m selfish.

And grace and mercy? Well, it’s great to be on the receiving end of those. {And quite frankly, I found more of those outside the church than in.} But when you’re the one hurting, grace and mercy don’t seem so great anymore. They’re difficult to offer.

So this internal war has me fighting between the comfortable and the uncomfortable.

Religion was easy. There’s nothing difficult about putting on a mask. It’s easy to hide behind theology, and never question what you believe. It’s easy to tell someone what you believe, then turn a deaf ear to their disagreements or questions.

Real love…not so easy. It means putting people first…before my beliefs. It means engaging in dialogue. It means giving up my time. It means getting uncomfortable. It means offering grace and mercy when every part of me is screaming to hold on to my hurt.

This war…I know which side wins in the end. But the meantime is messy.