- The limitations we face when we hope but cannot find a way to achieve, are painful. I have severe anxiety, and can’t help asking myself how am ever gonna be a good man. How can I love if I can’t allow others to love me. How can I ever raise a son in the ways of Christ if I can’t even get through a family gathering without breaking down. How can I protect my wife if all I think about is taking my life. It’s never meant to be easy, life, but I don’t think it’s meant to be this hard either. I have my sins and I’ve fought. It’s never meant to be easy, but it’s also not supposed to be this hard. But I’m trying to find the grace that gets me through it. It’s never going away, this fear, but I just hope God can give me the grace not send myself to hell.
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You’re not going to hell. Whatever god is, isnt, or might be, he’s not quite as petty as we need him to be. We’ve defined him and assigned him to so many boxes. . . we who can’t agree on much of anything, yet we’ve figured out The Big Guy Upstairs. Our crowning glory. Our silly dream. You, I, we can all punish ourselves enough daily, including but not limited to eternal vacations to “the lake of flames.” And yet, somehow, I envision an intelligence somewhere raising an eyebrow at the imaginings of our odd little species. Hell. No, god won’t send you there. He’s probably much more aware that you’re trying, that you WANT to try, that you’re struggling to find answers than he is intent on punishing you for not living up to standards we impose upon him. You’re not going to hell. I don’t know why. Maybe you are. But you’re not.