Lord, Help Me Believe!

Now for some honesty. I am in the application process for entering The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary - and it's not an easy season for me. When I attended Hardin-Simmons for my undergrad, I had such high hopes for growing in theological education in general. Now if you didn't know, my opinion (shared by a larger community) is that HSU's Logsdon School of Theology is a very "freely academic" institution. The other word I would use less carefully is "liberal." In my time at HSU I had to battle Pelagianism, Humanism, Open-Theism, Relativism and Universalism (to name a few) submitted by Theology professors as acceptable belief and practice. It was frustrating, wasteful, woeful, and heartbreaking just about every day. By the way, to those who might come across this blog and beg to differ about those viewpoints with me, let me save you the energy of debate with a simple word on my perspective: No. To my shame, I honestly let it get to me. The first semester in wasn't so bad, but with each successive semester I became increasingly disgruntled and shortsighted. I argued with professors on previously universally accepted tenets of orthodoxy and biblical merit (like the foreknowledge of God) often. Classes were devoid of joy and edification, unless it was a negative reaction from the garbage that was being thrown out. To be fair, there were gems in that hard landscape - some things that I got out of that all that made it tolerable - but on the whole it was a very difficult place to want to grow in ministry. To compound this, I started having rather pervasive health issues - migraines, severe allergies, and all the associated complications. Throw in a absurdly trying relationship -that the Lord orchestrated - and you have a mixture for calamity when it comes to one's "Academic Performance." My grades dropped, I was exhausted constantly, and I was held over the precipice for what seemed like ages. It was the darkest, hardest, loneliest, most eroding best thing in my life. It was horrible, but it I can't honestly I could trade it for an easier path. came to adore scripture, rest in God's grace and ultimate control - and I learned to plead for Him. You know (or maybe not) those late nights where you just pound your fist against the floor and can't even fashion words more than "mercy... Oh please have mercy." There were a lot of nights like that. There's a line in the song "Table for Two" that says "... And You know the plans that you have for me; And You can't plan the ends and not plan the means." Another theological way of saying it is, "The heavy door swings on small hinges." For Job, it means "Naked I came from my mother's womb, And naked I shall return there. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away. Blessed be the name of the LORD." For a psalmist it meant "Not to us, O LORD, not to us, But to Your name give glory Because of Your lovingkindness, because of Your truth. Why should the nations say, 'Where, now, is their God?' But our God is in the heavens; He does whatever He pleases. " On and on it goes. For me it goes like this too. Sometimes brutal, sometimes gossamer; sometimes with dancing, sometimes with sobbing; always beautiful. Here's the honest part. I am once again confronted with the reality of present circumstances. Here I am, with a decidedly spotty academic record, waiting to be accepted into what can only be characterized as my dream school. It feels so right, so rich and promising. There is much that seems on the line, my relationship of 2 years, my heart, my further education, my career possibilities, many of my close friendships - the list is intimidating. It's hard to trust, make no mistake... It's very hard to believe when you've got a brain like mine that loves little details and is not given over easily to floating optimism. This quirk normally keeps me grounded, humble - but of late it's kept me kind of anxious. If I don't get in to Southern, it's fundamentally back to square one with much of my life. Relationship, future, place, friends, congregation, and home - a pretty "all in" bet if you're playing Texas Hold'Em. When my head pleads with my heart, "You know you live in the Father's House, trust!" and my heart shudders with wanderings like, "What if?" and "What about?" I have to go back to pleading, "I don't deserve it, I can't earn it, I can't control it, please... please do Your will and help me Love it." I am not often scared, but I think it's safe to say I am now. The other part of that is that my Theology would cover it, wouldn't it? Some of the more antagonistic would certainly use that as a weapon to attack. What can I say, understanding and practice are not often equally yoked. So in all of this, my confession of late has been pretty simple. I need grace to either believe He's have me at Southern, or I need the grace to trust Him in the event that 90% of my life's familiarities change right in front of me. Either way grace is what I desperately need, and either way I find myself in the same position as the father in Mark 9:22, who said to Jesus about his tormented son; "But if You can do anything, take pity on us and help us!" The response is great. "And Jesus said to him, " 'If You can?' All things are possible to him who believes." Immediately the boy's father cried out and said, "I do believe; help my unbelief." I do believe Lord, Help my unbelief. That's pretty much it.