It’s Hard Being a Christian Sometimes

You know what most Christians won’t tell you? Sometimes it’s really fucking hard to follow Jesus. In the spirit of honesty, I’m going to tell you that I’m seriously feeling fed up. Fed up with myself and fed up with God.

Before I was really active in my faith, I thought that being a Christian meant following a bunch of dumb rules. And if you know me, you know that I follow the rule of “rules are made to be broken.” Sure, I understood and agreed with the general ideas about being a good person: don’t lie, don’t steal, don’t cheat, that sort of thing. But in my young mind, I didn’t understand why people would willingly follow ideas like waiting until marriage to have sex, or staying sober, or waiting on God to guide their lives.

That sort of life sounded boring AF, if I’m being completely honest. Being controlled was not my vibe.

Now that I’ve been on a deeper spiritual journey for the past couple of years, and I have grown into a more personal relationship with God, I’ve begun to see things from a different perspective. It’s not so much about control as it is about love and protection. I would know, because I’ve done or experimented with many of the things that the Bible says not to do.

I don’t regret these things, but I do sometimes wish that I had chosen a different path to follow because these vices, these bad habits, are hard to kick, even when I know they’re not good for me. Even when I know they pull me away from God.

You’re probably wondering where this rambling is going, so let me tie it together for you.

Lately, God has been telling me he wants to be a relationship with me. I thought I knew what this meant. I thought we already were in a relationship. But I was wrong. The past couple of years have been more about God loving me and showing me what unconditional love really is.

When I encountered him in a radical way in the Canadian Rockies during van life in 2019, it was pure love. It was just him overwhelming me in the best way with his endless love. We unpacked a lot of pain, trauma, and bad habits during those seven weeks, but he didn’t ask me for anything other than my heart.

Since then, God has been calling me to a deeper, more personal relationship with him, and I thought that’s what I was doing this entire time. But it finally clicked for me the other week what it means to actually be in a relationship with God, and truthfully, it’s not much different than being in a relationship with a human.

Relationships require communication. Trust. Sacrifice. Relationships are not one sided. One person doesn’t do all the work, pouring all of their love and energy into the other person, while the other person just laps it up like a dog gulping water on a hot summer day.

And that’s what I’ve been doing, drawing from the well of God’s love without really giving him anything in return. And once I recognized what God was asking of me, what he wanted me to give up, and what he wanted me to trust him for… it was all too much. Too overwhelming. And so, I did what anyone with the avoidant-attachment style does.

I ran. I ran from God. I ran willingly back to the things that have proven themselves harmful, because what God wanted me to do with him and for him was too damn much.

And you know why God is so good? Free will. He let me run away, he let me seek out the shallow worldly pleasures that didn’t satisfy, and he waited. Every time I started to turn back in his direction, he told me how much he loved me. He didn’t guilt or shame me. He simply loved me and waited.

Because the truth about my vices? They weren’t nearly as fun as I remembered them to be. In fact, they left me feeling emptier than before.

And that’s why when I say following God – dare I say, obeying him – is better than when I try to do life in that chaotic, reckless way of mine. I can only self-sustain for so long before I fizzle out like a sparkler on the 4^th of July.

I need the endless grace, overwhelming love, and constant provision of the Creator.

But part of why I’m fed up is that I feel like no one talks about this. A lot of Christians act like choosing to follow God is some magic switch that immediately changes their lives into the perfect picture of religion, ignoring or pretending that they aren’t struggling like the rest of the world.

Yes, there is peace in knowing Jesus personally. Yes, there is hope. And heavens yes, there’s a lot to be thankful for.

But following God doesn’t change my humanity. I am still heavily tempted on a daily basis. I still want the things that aren’t good for me. I still fear being in a personal relationship with the Creator of the Universe.

And I wish that I had known that other people were struggling with this whole Christ-following thing a while ago, instead of feeling like I’m not good enough to be with God, and that I’m always messing up compared to the sermons at church, or the YouTubers I watch, or the people I follow on Instagram.  

Seriously. Much of these past two years have consisted of me comparing myself to other Christians, and thinking, “Oh, they don’t struggle with the same things I do. They’re a much better Christian than me. I can’t be real with anyone because believers and non-believers alike will call me a hypocrite.”

And what a lie this is!

Over these past few weeks of running from God, as I’ve dabbled in the habits and vices of my past, I’ve also been able to open up about my struggles. I’ve been working through my fear of being judged and through being vulnerable, God has shown me the reality of what it means to live in this world and also choose to follow Jesus: we are all the same. We are all struggling. And there was no judgement or condemnation from the women of faith God has surrounded me with.

It’s so silly how many of us Christians walk around with this vibe of superiority, like we are so much better than those who don’t believe or know God. Like we’re not struggling with the same things as everyone else. Like we’re just blindly following God, and we are never tempted ever, and because of that, we art holier than thou.

It’s through this fake act of perfection that the church hurts people, giving them a false impression of who God is, and ultimately driving them away from God altogether.

(Which is bullshit. If you’ve been hurt by the church or by someone representing God, I am truly sorry. God loves you sooo much and wants to know you personally.) All because we – as Christians – are too afraid to be honest and vulnerable, and just tell people that sometimes, following God just sucks.

It’s not always easy. It’s certainly not comfortable. And the rewards from trusting in God and being obedient come long after we’re ready and wanting. Sometimes we don’t even see the fruits of our labor… like ever.

And that’s the most prevalent issue I’m having on my faith journey: I don’t know how to fully trust God with my life.

I recently had a conversation with my friend Riah, and she brought up the idea that there are generally two types of people in the world when it comes to following rules/authority etc. As kids we’re told not to touch the stove when it’s hot because it will burn us. But for some reason, some of us still touch the stove. We can’t believe it will hurt us until we’ve tried it.

It doesn’t matter how many times I get burned; I still want to touch the stove. God tells me not to, he warns me what will happen, he reminds me of all the times I’ve been burned before. But I do it anyway. And even though God doesn’t helicopter parent me, he lets me touch the stove, and instead of reprimanding me or freaking out on me, I still don’t trust him enough to follow him. When he gently runs my hands under cold water, and kneels knee-to-knee with me, icing and dressing my wounds, I still don’t trust him enough to obey.

But I keep trying because after so many times of being burned, it does get exhausting to have to go through the healing process over and over again. Sometimes I take the hand God has extended towards me, and I let him haul me up, and I let him lead me away from the thing I keep running back to.

Lately God has explicitly given me instructions on what he does and does not want me to do. And I’ve argued with him. I’ve fought myself – and in some cases – I’ve lost. I’ve gotten angry at God for not giving me what I want and for putting me in the season. I’ve felt like I’m going to crawl out of my skin because listening to God and ignoring my own desires is that uncomfortable.

When I ran from God, I literally told God to go fuck himself, that I’m not cut out for this life and that I give up.

(Letting God know my true feelings is also something I thought was “bad,” and shied away from for a long time, but seeing as I haven’t been struck by a lightning bolt straight to the pits of hell, I know that God wants all of it. If you’re feeling some type of way towards God, talk to him about it. Let it out. Be real with him. He can take it. He wants to take it and talk through it with you, not condemn you for feeling that way.)

I gave in to the things that I thought I won the battle over, but the results of those choices have made me realize exactly why God has told me to give them up.

It’s hard to be a Christian sometimes. I continue to learn what that even means on a daily basis.

What I have learned so far is that it’s not about being controlled by God. It’s not about rule following. In fact, it’s not about religion. I don’t resonate with the term “religious.”

What being a Christian means to me, is to be in a personal relationship with the Creator of the universe.

Being a Christian means to die to myself, to pick up my cross and follow Jesus. It means stumbling and dropping that cross. It means sometimes running away from it, only to come back to it and realize that no matter how tough or uncomfortable it is to carry that piece of wood, Jesus is right there with me carrying his own. I don’t have to walk through life by myself.

It doesn’t matter how many times I turn away, how many times I blatantly disregard God’s will and do my own thing, it doesn’t matter how many times I fuck up, as soon as I’m ready to try again, God is there. He is reaching out his hand, forgiven me already, and loving me unconditionally.

So why is it so damn hard for me to trust God even when he’s proven himself over a million times that he can be trusted? Maybe some day I’ll have the answer.

It’s not easy to trust God. I’m still learning how to. It’s not easy to be Christian. But speaking from experience of touching the hot stove, I know that even though it’s difficult to resist the temptations of this world and trust in the unseen, it’s worth it. Even when I give God the middle finger, I know I’ll keep trying to trust him, because trying to navigate life on my own is a freaking trainwreck.

I’m learning true contentment and peace in this life doesn’t come from romantic relationships, partying, or binge-eating. It comes from knowing the Creator on a personal level.

So if you’ve been hearing from God, or feeling that tug from Holy Spirit, I encourage you to learn from me and not do what I did. Don’t run away. Even when it scares the shit out of you. Embrace it, lean into it. Be honest with where you’re at. Don’t be afraid to come to the Creator with all the feels. He wants to know you personally, to lead you along the path of life. Not to control you, but to elevate you to the person he’s created you to be. I’m preaching to myself here as I type these words.

And if you don’t identify as a Christian, I’m speaking to you too. I encourage you to invite God in, however that looks for you. Listen to your intuition, that inner guidance. Let the love of the Creator overwhelm your senses and go from there.

One of the things I love most about God is that he’ll never force you to do anything. He will work with what you give him, no matter how tiny a step that is. So take it one day, one step, one breath at a time. And remember God loves you. And that when you’re ready, he’ll be right there, inviting you to take one more step with him.