Tales of a Secret Rockstar

Here's the thing about two part posts. I generally don't get around to doing the second part. Or if I do, I usually forget what I was talking about and give a realy half-hearted attempt at the second post. Hopefully that won't happen this time, although I can't make any promises. It's been a while and there's lots of other excitement to write about, ie: the wedding of Dan and Slynn. However, I shall stay the course, for the sake of my loyal readers. And perhaps for the sake of my sanity, since I don't like dissonance on my blog.

I believe I was talking about conversion. Okay so actually I was talking about selfishness, but that was leading to a discussion about the idea of conversion. I've been thinking alot about conversion because I'm starting to feel that I'm missing the point. I started reading this book called "Famous Conversions." It was actually a textbook for one of my classes in college. But I never read class books unless i had to. But now I'm reading it, and it's very interesting. It basically tells the conversion stories of famous Christians, from Paul the apostle to Blaise Pascal all the way to Chuck Colson. Most of the stories are written by the people themselves. It's such an incredible perspective to me. I come from a Pentecostal background, and our main focus is "salvation". I think we probably purposefully avoid the word "conversion" in our churches. Granted all churches have some sort of class for new believers, something to initiate them into the Christian life. But to me, conversion is so much more than that. For one thing, conversion is difficult to pin down. For some it is immediate, for others it involves a lifelong process. It seems to me that conversion is more than a new pattern of behaviour and a new vocabulary. It involves a complete transformation of the mind and heart. It's like a planet completely changing it's orbit. The star that I once orbited, the star of self, cannot hold me any longer. I'm pulled by the gravity of God's grace, until his light is all that I see, and all that I need to see. This is the beauty of conversion. And yet, herein lies the problem. I am no more able to convert myself than a planet is able to abrubtly change its orbit. It is entirely a work of the spirit. I can seek God, but He does the work.
This is where i'm encouraged by the stories of conversion that I have read. Particularily John Wesley's. I feel much affinity to him. He grew up in the church, and even went into ministry, without really understanding God's grace. He strove for holiness, and was know for his intense discipline. But somehow he was missing the point. I feel that way. I am very much sincere in my pursuit of God, but I think I'm just totally off the mark. Like I'm striving for outer transformation, rather than conversion. It's a movement of grace. And that's probably the one thing I have the most difficulty with. That's why I love Wesley's story. How he heard Luther's introduction to the book of Romans. And his heart was "strangely warmed." It seems like from that point on, he got it. He didn't need to strive anymore, he only needed to serve.

I suppose all of that was mostly written to say that I'm frustrated about where I'm at. But it's bigger than your average Christian frustration. I mean that I literally don't get it. I'm missing the point. I know that I'm a Christian, I'm not worried that I've wasted the last 18 years or anything. I just think that somewhere along the way I totally lost the meaning of my faith. Like I'm living on the surface. It's exceedingly difficult to explain. I'm just working way too hard for way too little. I need more than just salvation. I need conversion.