No substitute.

We love substitutes.

Diet Coke instead of regular. Texting instead of calling. A side salad instead of french fries, which is always a good choice if you're trying to eat right. But then comes another substitution. Instead of actually exercising and doing sit-ups, we prefer to invent new ways to get fit, such as strapping an electric belt that painfully shocks us with high voltage pulses--all so we can look like this: Ab Belt. What a cute couple. I prefer the Wii.

I certainly do it. I try to find shortcuts, time-savers, and ways to get the same end result--without actually going through some of the pain in the process. Ask my roommates. Video games, naps, and cramming were often substituted for studying responsibly. But I promise, I don't procrastinate anymore. :)

But there are certain things that can't be substituted for. For example, HyVee generic brand "Honey O's" don't satisfy my craving for Honey Nut Cheerios...not even for the two dollar difference. But seriously, a parent can't substitute a toy for spending quality time with their kids. A stuffed animal doesn't replace the feeling of missing home after a family moves to a new state. Not even a kind word substitutes for a loss of a family member.

How many people would say, "Oh, Mike and I are practically best friends. We hang out when there's a group gathering, I talk about him a lot to my friends that know Mike, I write about Mike on my blog...heck, I even sing songs about Mike! Mike and I don't ever talk alone or one-on-one...I kind of feel weird approaching Mike by myself. I never know what to say, and sometimes I don't know if Mike's actually listening to me. But yeah, Mike and I are best friends." I would hope that doesn't describe your best friends' relationship with you.

Then why do we do that with Jesus?

Replace Mike with Jesus in the passage. I don't know if that hits home for you, but I know that for the longest time, that was my attitude. I figured I could go to church, go to Bible study, talk about Him with others, and sing songs about him without ever actually consistently talking with Jesus. And I wonder why my faith suffers after going a week without having one-on-one time with God...

Try as I might, I can't quite seem to find an effective substitute, a quick-fix of sorts, for it. If there is one thing that I have been learning the past several months, it is this: there is no substitute for spending regular, personal time with God. Not just time with God during church, not just time w/God listening to Chris Tomlin or David Crowder Band, not just time w/God reading Guideposts or watching episodes of Touched By An Angel, and not even just spending time with God as you marvel at His creation...on the golf course with three of your friends.

Just like any other relationship, if it's one that you really want to improve...you spend time with God daily. The time doesn't have to be majestic or prepared, nor do you have to "have things together" or know the right prayers to spend time with Him. Just come as you are. Is every interaction between husband and wife, between two friends, or between a child and their parent majestic, prepared, or perfectly worded? Of course not.

So stop trying to do the same with God. If it helps, this image (though goofy/ridiculous/corny) helped me to think about how I can approach God:

It's Black Friday and the mall, containing seemingly millions of people, is bustling. There are people everywhere, and claustrophobia begins to set in. But then I see the seat. A single seat, in the middle of the food court, at a table separated from the craziness of life. There's a man sitting across the table, though, and as I stare harder, I realize it's Jesus. I'm unsure of what to talk about, what he'll say when I sit down, or even if he'll let me have the seat. I haven't talked to him in awhile. The desire for a respite in this packed mall drives me to the chair. I quietly ask my friend if I can sit down, to which he smiles and nods. I kind of stutter and stammer for words as I stare at the floor, awkwardly asking what he would like to talk about it. I finally catch his gaze, and I see that he's smiling, looking right back at me. "I don't care," he says. "I'm just glad that you're here."

I hope that you read this, then decide that maybe it would be nice to spend some quiet time with Jesus. I pray that you start to really see God as your best friend. And my desire is that you begin to see our God the way He should be seen--ready to talk.

Let's Get Real, Part Deux

I saw this commercial the other day...it went like this:

(Man walks up his wife, who is holding a display case of coins)

Man-- Honey, what do you have there?

Woman-- (Smiling) Well, dear, I just bought this from Goldcoin.com! This, my little Pumpkincake, is a coin collection that looks exactly like one that would be retrieved from Blackbeard's ship at the bottom of the ocean...except this one is completely fake! It's worth absolutely nothing!

Man-- Wow, sweetie! That's great! It looks just like a valuable, precious set of gold coins...cripes, I can practically smell the sea-salt from these fake coins that weren't found in the ocean at all! Who would've thunk it's a piece of crap!?

Woman-- (Still smiling) I know! It's not authentic at all! Why would you want the real thing? It's so much better to just pretend... and the best part about it? It cost the same exorbitant price as if it was authentic! (Couple hug, kiss, then place the worthless case of junk up on their mantle).

Okay, so maybe I dreamed that commercial...

Which do you prefer: An authentic gold coin, or an inauthentic gold coin made of copper? An authentic autographed basketball signed by Michael Jordan, or an inauthentic autographed basketball signed by Michael Jorge, the pizza delivery guy? An authentic friendship with someone who you can share your true feelings, or an inauthentic friendship with someone who you can share what you think they want to hear?

Most of you would probably prefer an authentic gold coin, autograph, or friendship, right? For those of you who prefer inauthentic items, I have some inauthentic pens to sell, used by John Hancock to sign the Declaration of Independence, for a small price of a couple hundred buckaroos.

As I think more and more about authenticity, my ponderings focus on my relationship with the One who already knows the authentic Brendan. I don't quite get why I'm afraid to utter the thoughts I think to God. I mean, I understand authenticity being difficult between myself and others--most people have secrets that they hide from others...I get it. It takes awhile to open up and share struggles, fears, etc. with other human beings who have the ability to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But God?

I act like He's the biggest gossiper around. What if God has connections with TMZ or National Enquirer and spreads around what I told him? Or worse, what if He tells my friends?! Or worser...what if He tells my parents!?

When I was younger, some of my friends and I, being bored youngsters, would approach an electrical fence surrounding the cattle lot. "I triple-dog dare you to touch the fence," one would say. And of course, refusal to touch it would be the worst act one could do. So you do, hoping that the power isn't on.

Getting real with God feels like getting dared to touch an electrical fence, just to see if it's on. If it is, you get hurt, burnt, and probably laughed at. So as I reach my hand towards that fence, I prep for the shock that will surely come: the shock of feeling like if I pray out my frustrations, fears, or sadness towards God, it will only annoy Him, make Him roll His big, cosmic eyes at me, or cause Him to send a lightning bolt and make things harder for me, just to show me that I need to stop complaining.

But that fence is never on with God.

King David, probably my favorite person in the Bible, figured out that praying (or singing Psalms) to God candidly did not result in a huge spanking from our Father above. Our friend Dave had more emotions than Crayola had colors. One day he was feeling Joyous Jazzberry Jam, the next day he was feeling more like Ticked-Off Teal.

Day 1: You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them. I am confined and cannot escape; my eyes are dim with grief. (Psalm 88: 8-9)

then, Day 2: Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; (Psalm 98:4)

aaaaand Day 3: So my spirit grows faint within me; my heart within me is dismayed. (Psalm 143: 4)

But the crazy thing about David's mood swings is what he says amidst his anguished days, whether he was hiding in caves from Saul or anticipating defeat from enemies:

Day 3: I spread out my hands to you; I thirst for you like a parched land. (Psalm 143:6)

Wait, Davie...I thought you were just dismayed? And yet, your response is seeking God?

David's two-step process: honesty, then faith. Authenticity, then expecting God to show up.

My two-step process is a bit different: a 5 second help me prayer, then freak-out. A glance to the sky, then Googling advice for my probems.

Because even though I know that going to God is the right response, I somehow feel like I'd be bothering Him. Yeah, His yoke is easy and His burden is light...but what if He gets sick and tired of me always bringing the worst of me? Isn't there a limit to how many comments I put in God's comment box?

Yes, we need to go to God with good things and bad things, and no, we shouldn't only complain to God like a whiny 3 year old. But... if we can't come to God with honesty and authenticity, what is it worth? Just as I wouldn't want an inauthentic autograph from Michael Jordan, God doesn't want an inauthentic faith from Brendan George. God doesn't want me to pretend like everything's okay. God wants me to have faith that He's big enough, that He cares enough, that He loves me enough to handle the real me. I feel like God says "go ahead and complain, but have faith that I can deal with it...I'm a pretty good multi-tasker."

And that's my hope. As I seek authenticity, the process is slow. But it starts with one honest conversation. With God, it starts with one "I have no clue what you're doing God...I'm kind of pissed off. But I trust what you're doing" prayer. As scary as it can be, it starts with reaching for that fence.