A Dead Season

I interned at a Christian college for the summer. Most of the people I worked with and those on my student staff had amazing hearts for God. They openly shared their walk with Christ; who has influenced them, where they think He is taking them, and struggles they are currently battling. I was also able to engage in conversation about how I came to know Christ, how I try to see the world through Christ's eyes, and even mentored someone close to me about grace and its limitless boundaries. But still, this summer has been a dead season.

I've not read my bible in a couple months. Not legitimately. Sure it's been cracked open while at church, where I sat with a closed heart.

I pray, but it's been the usual stale prayers that have been recited for years..."Thank you God for this food you've provided me..." "Please watch over so-and-so while they do such-and-such..." "God, please give me patience as I wait for the woman you're preparing me for..." No heart in these prayers. No desperation. No desire. No longing. Is there any belief in them?

My Internet struggles continue. I care less, and less, and less. Every battle won equals ten thousand lost. When will it end?

Do not be deceived, Wormwood, I still believe. Oh, yes, I believe. There is a God. His Son died for my sins. And the Holy Spirit exists in me. Where is it, though? Has Satan tempered me through apathy and routine, thus blocking it out? Have I been feeding the Holy Spirit too much lip-service and not enough genuine, heartfelt need.

I feel dead in my faith. Am I not to just die to myself? Die to my longings? My greed? More music, more DVDs, more books, more clothes, more, more, more, more... Die to my lust? Filthy, staining lust...

I want to pick up my cross daily, but it weighs two tons. Or is it two pounds? Am I that weak? Or is it that I've misplaced my cross? Have I left it under the bed? Out of sight, out of mind.

When will this become real again? When will God wipe my tears and tell me everything is okay? Is everything okay?