Here’s a random fact: It’s been two years, two months, and ten days since I last published an actual post on a personal blog (apart from the “I have a new website” posts that I did).

Obviously–given the two year gap–it’s been hard to get back into the groove of blogging. Having been dormant for so long, I’ve pretty much lost any sort of rhythm that I had. Thus my writing habits have devolved into random spurts that splatter themselves all over Google Drive. It’s terribly messy.

Part of the problem is that my actual job involves a lot of writing. And by “a lot,” I mean, it’s nearly all writing and sitting at a computer. Therefore, writing and sitting at a computer is usually the last thing I want to do for a hobby (unless it means mindlessly scrolling Facebook or surfing Youtube).

All that to say: the creative juices haven’t exactly been flowing.

Nevertheless, here I am. Writing. And that’s what counts, I guess.

Speaking of counting…

I should divulge something right away: I’m a little bit of a nerd. I built a fictional world when I was twelve years old, complete with maps, fragmented languages, histories, and a 70,000+ word novel; I watch YouTube videos about string theory for fun, I’ve read The Silmarillion three times (and other abstract Middle-Earth lore), and I notice quaint little things like when the clock reads 11:11.

In fact, a couple of years ago, I started noticing the time 11:11, or the number 1 anywhere in repeated consecutive order, so much that I began taking it as God’s way of reminding me that he loves me.

“Oh look, it’s 1:11pm. God loves me” or ‘Your destination is in 11.1 miles…’ “Aha! God loves me,” weird little stuff that only a nerd would find interesting. Could be coincidence, if you want to spoil all the fun.

This whole number thing is significant to me because over the past few years I’ve struggled to feel like I have any sort of meaningful connection with God. But I’m beginning to doubt my feelings more and more.

A few months ago while praying with a group of friends, I had a moment where all of a sudden God reminded me that he wants a personal relationship with me.

I say “reminded” because it’s not that I quit believing God wanted a personal relationship with me. I’ve believed it nearly all my life. Growing up in a pastor’s family, the idea of a personal God was ingrained deeply into my psyche. But I didn’t completely understand what it really meant for me. Much less experienced it on a regular basis.

I’ve done what I thought I needed to do to pursue a relationship with God. I grew up making a fairly regular habit of “daily devotions”–even reading through the Bible multiple times before I was 15. I’ve prayed to Jesus and fasted and given time and money to building the kingdom of God.

Yet, over the years, I’ve become a little cynical about “personal relationships with God.” I’m not saying God has failed in anyway. It’s just that I hear stories and see friends going deep with God, experiencing things I’ve only dreamed of and I long for that kind of connection, yet it always seems to elude me.

And here’s the rub.

I could say “Well, I need to try harder.” Except, I have tried harder. I’ve done the “read, pray, and journal for hours each day” thing. I’ve been there. It hasn’t made me the super-hero Christian like others seem to be. Nor have I spoken in tongues or healed anyone (that I know of) or lead very many people to the Lord. Besides, “trying harder” goes against the core of the Gospel. Drawing close to God isn’t about trying harder. Is it?

So maybe that’s just it. Maybe I’ve been trying to manipulate God. Maybe I’ve been too self-willed and I need to stop trying so hard. Except I’ve tried that as well and it hasn’t seemed to get me much closer either.

You see what’s happening here?

It’s like no matter what I do, whether I try hard or relax: victory, freedom, Piper-esque joy-in-Christ seems to elude me. I’ve talked with countless pastors, counselors, professors, wise-people, and still it feels like I just trudge on.

I guess what I’m saying is: I’m not a star Christian. But you probably knew that already. In fact, you probably say it, too. We all say it. It’s common to be imperfect these days. And it’s cool and spiritual to “get real”–especially on a blog or social media. It almost feels as if “being transparent” on a platform like this has become a parody of itself because nowadays transparency itself can be a way to build a facade or spiritual aura around ourselves. Believe me, I know because I’ve done it.

Yet it’s nevertheless still true: I am imperfect. I don’t have my life together–far from it. Some days, it’s all I can do to hang on, spiritually. I’m not kidding. I’ve sat in rooms by myself–days before leading out in some spiritual activity–and wondered if I truly, truly believe in God.

And so it takes me by surprise when I suddenly remember in my friend’s living room during a prayer service that God actually still wants a personal relationship with me.

Personal: Just me and him, no matter if other people love me or hate me, he still wants to know me and me to know Him.

Relationship: commitment, love, activity, joy. God is committed to me. He loves me. He wants to do stuff with me. He wants me to experience joy.

He wants me to experience joy. Wow! God does want me to experience ultimate satisfaction and joy.

I had forgotten that God actually wants a relationship with me. I’m not trying to say it’s an exclusive little clique between me and Jesus. That’s not His attitude at all. I’m just amazed at how personal he is. He wants a living, vibrant, active relationship.

It’s hard to explain what I experienced.

That moment in the living room I all of a sudden remembered–not just in my mind, but down deep in my heart–that if I prayed, he would hear my prayer and move. Like–actually move. As if he’s alive and real and my relationship with Him is real. And when I ask him for something, he responds like a real live Person would.

I’ve always known that in my head, but I always forget it in my heart. That’s why I need reminders. Reminders that he is alive and His love is everlasting.

My old blog, Fraction, used to be one of the primary tools by which I processed life. I’ve wrestled with death, disappointment, fear, confession, and praise on there. I’ve shared some of my darkest secrets on that blog. It was there that I processed what it was like to experience devastating pain.

But now I’ve decided to close it down and close that chapter.

The other day as I was looking over all the published and drafted posts throughout the years, I noticed the total number. It was like a word from God. As clear as if it were audible–if you can believe it.

One hundred eleven.

The total number I had drafted was 111.

Maybe God does speak to me after all.

C.D.

P.S. Over the next several months, sprinkled in with a few posts like this one, I’m going to be “revisiting” a handful of pieces that were pivotal to my journey. Mostly, it’s for myself. I think it’s been healthy and interesting to reprocess what I was processing back then. But, if you’re interested, it’ll give you a peek into who I am. I can’t promise that it’s any great literature or even great theology, but you may find it interesting. Or you might not, that’s okay, too. So if you see any posts titled “[Blank]” Revisited, that’s what it is. Just so you know.