This holiday season, I have really been feeling like there is so much of life that should look different because of the gospel. I spent Christmas at my parents', and while there, I am always confronted by who I was as a youngster. Mom has certainly changed things since I was a teenager at the house, but the house is not a big one, and there are memories in every room. This is where I was when I chased my little sisters out, while feeling surly. This is where I used to stare at my reflection for hours on end, thinking about how different I was as an Indian. This is where I spent so much time on the phone talking with my best friend, glad I had someone to talk to. This room is where I learned to dance.
The thing that is surprising is realizing how much I've changed since my childhood. I'm not the girl I was. I'm not even the young lady or the young mom I was. But how different am I? Has the gospel made that much of an impact when I was adopted into the kingdom of God at 27? Do I live life confidently, knowing I have a great High priest who has passed through the heavens? This Christmas, I felt the old pull of the childhood home, where I lived life quietly, sedately, not much talking, not much activity other than listening to NPR and watching TV. "Relax" was the constant refrain of my father, who believes in a intellectual, quiet life. I do like watching a good movie and have done quite a bit of that this vacation. So what is the difference in the life that my parents see?
While in Montgomery, I finally succumbed to watching the Walking Dead. Went through Season 1 in one day, and then started on season 2. M and I have been watching it since we've gotten home. It's ridiculously addicting if you can get past the gore and violence. Which doesn't, and shouldn't, mean that you become immune and callous to it at all, but the gore is a plot device to a bigger story. The story is about a small town sheriff who awakes from a coma and realizes the world has descended into madness with zombies having overrun much of it. There is lawlessness, no economy other than trying to find the most guns, and questions of why we should live. For the humans left, their character is tested while they fight for their lives and for their future, whatever it is. A Lord of the Flies story, if you will.
Questions of faith are certainly brought up. At least, to me, they are questions that point to your faith. What would be your will to live if there were zombies all around, waiting to eat you? Would you want to kill another human to be able to survive? With no "law", should man make law based on gut and feeling? Would you want to have a baby in a world like that? Is man ultimately evil?
If you believe like I do, in the total depravity of man, which really means that sin affected us completely and totally after the fall and we are unable to reach any sort of goodness without the power of the Holy Spirit, then you know you're going to have a mess in this type of environment. Seeing the characters descend into their sin, or even be redeemed by love, makes for fascinating stories. But here's an even deeper question: weren't we all walking dead before being saved by grace? Are we, as humanity, anything more than zombies until God's Holy Spirit moves us, saves us, regenerates us? And after that happens, how shall we then live? This last question is the one that is a constant with me. And it's what I reflected on in Montgomery this past Christmas. What makes us, as believers, different? What I know is the Holy Spirit does the work to change us, to make us into something new. And for that, in this new year, I am grateful.
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