Fast Food Devotional Books and Puritans

Help me to honor thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith.

I've never been much of a "devotions book" girl, but I do remember one time, back in Jr. High, when I gave one of Rebecca St. James' devotional books my best shot. Unfortunately, as a 7th grader, my "devotion" time was probably more about hero-worship than God-worship. (Confession time: I totally wanted to be Rebecca St. James then, and devoutly practiced my singing of "It's God! Truly Go-hod!" every day after school. Sigh.)

Since then, I suppose I've not been too keen on Christian devotional books that start out as a devotional book. What I mean is, a book that was meant to sell itself to people looking for that perfect devotional book. If the writer puts together a work with their eye on its publication, I venture to say it's more often geared toward someone like me with hero-worship tendencies. For example, Christianbook.com's best-seller list includes:

1 - A book by "America's best preacher," Max Lucado, an iconic figure in today's Christian book club.
2 - A book featured on Kirk Cameron's movie, Fireproof. 40 days of learning the true nature of love based on a catchy game of truth or dare.
3 - A leadership expert's meditations on success and teamwork.
4 - An inspiring teen devotional meant to encourage youth "embarking on a new path in life."

Don't get me wrong, I don't think best-sellers are bad. And I don't think there is anything wrong with a book that appeals to a certain generation, or even a book that sells because of the reputation of the author. But among the books I mention above, one common selling-point seems to be: uplifting, inspiring and brimming with hope. Of course. Because it's no mystery that we all crave positive reinforcement. Me especially.

I like searching for fast-food answers to my greatest failures. When I've genuinely screwed up, I want instant reprieve, a quick fix: how do I cover this one up? What do I do to make people realize this just isn't as it seems? I admit to feeling a little boost of confidence when someone tells me, "Oh, you're just wonderful. Don't be too hard on yourself. You didn't mean it." The high lasts for a minute, and then fades, strangely. Fortunately, I've been blessed with some very true friends who help me admit my failures. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy." (Proverbs 27:6). I hope you have friends like these in your life. If you don't, call me and I'll set you up.

I suppose the real reason for my search for easy answers is that I don't know where my true encouragement comes from. There's the self-gratifying illusion of encouragement: "You're not as bad as you seem. Buck up!; It could be worse. Besides, Jesus wants you to be happy." And then there's the self-deprivating, lazy form of encouragement: "You're God's puppet; give it up, check out -- let go and let God." I'm not sure which is worse. But I fluctuate between both when my security is not in Christ alone.

All that to say (finally), I'm currently a fan of The Valley of Vision, a compilation of Puritan Prayers. The prayers are full of depth -- themes of depravity, God's grace, redemption, sanctification. I find them powerful to pray, because I am speaking of all these things simultaneously, not thematically. As I am uncovering some of my sin, I'm also discovering God's infinite mercy and sovereignty.


As an example, one of the prayers I read recently was entitled, "The Divine Will." The quote at the beginning of this post is from this prayer. This sentence struck me because I was reminded of how readily I test the truth and validity of God's promises for me based on how I feel about them... and I do this before I believe them.

I received an email from a fellow believer who recently decided to go back out on the mission field. In the email, he repented of this same tendency. He said, "Being the control freak that I am, I wanted to see how God would work out all the physical details. In prayer, God showed me that I wouldn't accept similar behavior from one of my own children. I would want my kids to trust me, obey, and patiently wait to see how I've arranged things."

When I read that, I was reminded of my own faithlessness... and how I try (and fail) to diminish God's glory by glorifying my own feelings. I thought about that one sentence I had read: Help me to honor thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith. .

In short (because this post is getting awfully long): I crave positive feelings. But great is my sin if I turn to my own feelings before trusting and relying on Him.

A great lesson learned from a dead Puritan guy's words.