Believing or Behaving?

"Am I really believing or am I just behaving?"

I've become my own worst enemy the last few months (what's new?).  Putting it into words is difficult, but I have felt like I am grinding myself to pieces, trying to crank out "the good life."  Good this, good that, "Be good, Tara.  Make it good..."  God has been teaching me a lot (crazy beautiful stuff) about the word "good" in the Bible.  But for some reason, along the way I find myself drowning in the weight of "the good life."  I'm trying to balance everything I think it means to be good.  Though I probably wouldn't ever say it like this to someone else, in my own mind the track repeats:

"I'm supposed to do this... I'm not supposed to do that..."

Supposed to, supposed to... I'd venture to say those words probably aren't even in the Bible, because I'm not sure they are even remotely biblical.  "Supposed to" indicates requirement or obligation; but the Christ-life is anything but obligatory.  It is surrender.  It is all-or-nothing, free-will, "because I wanted to," giving.  Yet so many times I find myself behaving in a certain way because I am "supposed to."  

God challenged me with a moment of awakening this week when I wondered, "Am I really believing or am I just behaving?"  

A friend of mine quoted this verse tonight from Matthew 9: "Become what you believe."  Become what you BELIEVE... not how you behave, but what you believe.  My behavior follows my belief.  Without my belief in tact, my "good behavior" will always be that of a forced effort.  My behavior the past few weeks has been that of an unbeliever, and if there is anything that really, really infuriated Jesus, it was unbelief.  Yet I find myself doubting Him, quietly and unintentionally, acting out in ways that unveil my unbelief.  I wonder what my life would look like today, if regardless of my emotions or disappointments, I acted like I believe.  What would happen if, instead of acting like I believe, I chose to actually believe?

Believing is not always a natural impulse.  I have students come to me all day long with stories that I must either believe or disbelieve.  I'm looking at them and listening, all the while secretly "reading" them, mentally interpreting their body language, tone of voice, nervous twitches, length and detail of story - all the elements that hint to whether I should believe them or not.  There are times when all the facts and figures come together clearly, and the story is easy to believe.  There are other moments, though, when I have no solid information on hand, but I simply choose to say, "I'm gonna go with you on this one."  In other words, I choose to believe.

I find this with Jesus.  He comes to me with this story that I must either believe or disbelieve.  I'm looking Him over constantly, trying to "read Him," trying to get a full understanding of what He's up to, if anything at all.  Prone to doubt, I'm hunting for hints that I can believe Him...but then I look at HIS body language.  I see a bloody man on a cross - a man that I'm reminded is the epitome of trustworthy.  There's this point where something shifts.  I don't have all of the information, the facts or the figures.  I'm just as clueless as I was a moment ago, but I look at Jesus and decide, "I'm gonna go with You on this one."  

I choose to believe.

Tonight I'm convicted in all the right places.  The goodness and kindness of God has led me to repentance, and I will gladly suffer it.  No, I haven't been out living "la vida loca," so if you're freaking out that I'm calling myself on misbehavior, just calm yourself right down.  But as my dad would say, I've been living like a "practical atheist," forgetting who I'm dealing with as I walk hand-in-hand with an omnipotent, yet fiercely compassionate God.  So today I remember Jesus, and I choose to believe.  

So let my behavior follow my belief.  Let my confident choice in Him as Savior lead me through the valley of the shadow of death into the spacious light of His enduring life.  Thank God I've found a friend in Jesus, who never grows weary of this little girl's prayer: "Lord, I believe. Heal my unbelief."