I am a young man, a very good young man. I have a well paying job and some toys, and the feminine accompaniment to these things. I am healthy. I have everything a young man of this age would love. My life is perfect, but I am dead.
A lot of men my age envy me. I understand their illusion; they do not see my reality. They don’t wear my shoes. I am almost 30 but I feel 70. I can’t drink, I can’t smoke, and I can’t have all those wonderful pleasures of the world. I can’t sin no more. It seems I have outgrown this world and its pleasures. I feel dead, and like the dead, I do not look forward to anything. I don’t feel like going to bed or waking up the next day. If I am promised a million pounds tomorrow, I will still not look forward to it. Everything that should be interesting now seems mundane.
You would not believe this, but at times, a beautiful lady, a friendly stranger with no familial ties would spend a weekend in my house and I would have no urge? This is a very strange thing; it is a problem that really troubles my spirit. These days I am a recluse and I abstain from everything. It is not because I have found Christ; even though Christ is very good in hide and seek, I really have never misplaced him. I think I am having something worse than a midlife crisis. I am dying of old age at my young age and there is no visible reason for this.
I should commit suicide, I feel that bad. But I am not an American, and I do not live in the UK. I have to do something, but I cannot kill myself, I would only feel the same way I feel right now.
I have heard it said that much reading will bring a body to this unfortunate state in life. But I have not read that much. I do not have all those degrees that cause people to go insane and write meaningless tomes that no one reads.
Lack of love can also dig a hole in a man. But I have never lacked for that. I have all the kinds of love a man should have, and I even take them for granted.
They say I should not complain; that I should be grateful. That I am lucky to have all that I have and fortunate to be who I am. I don’t feel grateful. I don’t feel lucky. I have a cavity in my soul, and I need to fill it.
Deep within this chasm of despondence, I have this deep seated hunger for something, anything. I am in a perpetual state of search and longing, for that something; a light, perhaps, something higher, above and beyond Good and Evil. I need profundity. I seek a deeper realm, something inexplicable, something fulfilling…
Something like God.
I am persuaded that if I find God I will come back alive.
Here we meet the crux of the whole matter. I cannot find God anywhere. This is the frustrating problem. I have really been searching. I have looked for God in the Bible, cover to cover, and in different versions. I have read most of these Christian books. I have read the Quran, and found it lacking spirituality. Yoga is for body builders, and Hindus are Indians and pagans. I don’t know where to find the Free Masons or Illuminati; they seem interesting, though I don’t know if they have a God. The African Traditional Religion is closer to home, but it is dirty and scary.
I keep returning to the Christian version of things; there is a certain depth I find in Christianity, but I don’t know which of the denominations will lead to God faster. Still, I prefer the Christian God because He is the loudest and the only God that I heard died and rose again; if He could rise again then perhaps He can lend me a hand. But at this stage, any god will do. In truth, I have devoted more time in my search for the Christian God than for any other. I have gone to mountains and prayer meetings, and spent time in crusades, retreats and seminars. In these places, it seems only others find God; only the worshipers standing next to me get caught up and moved by the spirit.
I used to scoff at those that get slain in the spirit and fall around during services. Now I envy them. The genuine ones, at least, have an otherworldly experience. I don’t know how to fall, I have tried. I have never felt the move of the spirit, and I have held my breath many times. I have fasted, I have prayed, I have listened, I have shut my eyes tight and I have been still.
Absolutely nothing. No joy of salvation, no “presence” of God. I come out feeling worse than I entered. I know it shouldn’t be so. Perhaps, others are more broken and have more pain if their wailings and tears are to be considered. I cannot cry when I am not in pain. I cannot pretend. Isn’t it enough to be saved? Or is there another way of being saved? Isn’t it enough to sincerely and honestly want God? I should have that Abundant Life, and not this frustrating yearning. I should find, because I have been seeking.
They say it is by faith, that the just live by faith. Well, I also read that faith without works is dead. I have practiced and believed and I am tired of having faith!
I have been tempted many times to conclude like my friend, Nietzsche, that God is dead. But I think God lives, for in my subconscious and in that of every other mortal there is a deep and immovable idea of God. No mortal is an atheist. God is there somewhere watching me. I think he is the cause of this my problem. I think he is the one calling. I like to believe that it is a case of deep calling for the deep, creator calling the created.
But it is not fair.
I am right here answering, always have been. It seems God is flashing my call lines. He should be bigger than that. Why call a man only to drop the call when he picks? I am not Jonah, I am not running anywhere. If God is God then there is no escaping Him, I am wise enough to know that. I won’t even try to convince anyone on how unrealistic it would be for someone to call me to be a preacher. I will lead any congregation straight to the Chairman in Hell. I don’t want to preach.
What I want is simple.
I want to experience God. I want to see visions. I want to speak to God and hear God speak to me. I want to feel that joy of salvation some people talk about. I want to feel His presence; I want to have a bright light shine into my eyes too . I need my own personal encounter, I need my own miracle. I do not want to hear it from others anymore, I want my very own; the one I can take to the bank, not these kinds that can be explained away. I am tired of taking everything by faith, belief and hear say. If God be true, let me experience that truth.
I am convinced that this is possible. I am persuaded that God still speaks and whispers today same way He spoke and interacted with the old time prophets. I do not know why I am this strongly convinced, but my conviction is a constant. And it is unfortunate because this conviction is what fuels this yearning, the yearning that is killing me.
Are there people like me? Are there people suffocating and bearing an unseen burden of despondency and emptiness? Who knows this God; the one that speaks and whispers deep things to mankind? The one that answers when He is called; the God that inspires creativity; the God that loves, protects and guides. Who has felt this God?
Please, tell me how to find Him and where He is hiding. I assure you, I do not need Him for selfish and material gains. I do not need him for power. I need him because I am bored with this life and I am old and running out of time. I need him because he is my cause and the blessing to this curse of mine.
I need him because I am a dead man that should not be dead.
Say this to God if you meet him before I do.