Somewhere along the way, I think I missed the point of it all.

Maybe it was when I was a child, and I thought that God would be impressed with me if I woke up before sunrise to pray.

Maybe it was when I was 16, and I thought that memorizing all of Psalm 119 – the longest chapter in the Bible – would make me a better Christian.

Maybe it was when I was 18, and I thought that spending all my time doing ministry work would please God.

Maybe it was when I was 20, and I thought that I had to read the Bible before breakfast in order to secure God’s grace for the day.

Maybe it was when I was 22, and every time I stopped to pray all I could say was:

“Dear God, am I good enough for you yet?”

Oh, but I have all the right answers.

I can tell you how “spending time with Jesus” is supposed to be a response to love, not an attempt to earn love.

I can tell you how I don’t have to be good enough for God, because when God looks at me God sees the goodness of Jesus or whatever.

I can tell you how God’s love and grace are gifts freely given.

And yet,

I cringe every time I hear the words “spiritual disciplines”

or “devotions”

or “do hard things”

or “don’t waste your life”.

Because no matter the good intentions and good practices behind all those words, all I can hear is:

“Try a little harder. Then God will be pleased with you.”

Because I can’t figure out how to divorce activity from performance, and performance from earning love.

I’ve found myself giving up on it all —

the never-ending hustle of religious activity,

the “five things Christians should be doing”

and the “ten ways to not waste your summer”.

Because when I was forcing myself to pray, the only prayer on my lips was:

“Dear God, am I good enough for you yet?”

Perhaps giving up is the only way to find out.

[ image: flickr/oc ]