The "EM3" Christian: Finding God in the Mess

 

The "EM3" Christian: Finding God in the Mess

I feel messy. There is no other word for it. My physical life, my spiritual life, the space behind my eyes, it’s all a tangle of loose ends and "what-ifs."

At 34, I find myself looking at a life I never expected to have. Not because I’ve succeeded, but because since Secondary 2, I didn't think I’d survive long enough to see my thirties. Now that I’m here, I feel like I’m wandering through a fog. I work as a Product Manager, but when people ask what I do, I stall. The title sounds "correct," but the reality feels listless and void of purpose. 

I hate how I look. I hate how I am struggling with my identity and sexuality. I hate everything about myself. Most importantly, I hate me so much, so so much. Moreover, the messiest part isn't my career or my appearance. It’s my soul. 

The Comparison Trap

In Church, the air feels different. In the morning, everyone seems to have someone to sit with and dine with during breakfast. I sit alone, awkward and feel like a misfit in Church. I look at the people in my cell group; the others in church and I see "Express stream" Christians. I see the high-flyers with their steady jobs, their fiancés, and their seemingly perfect trajectories. They seem to have a "steadfastness" that I can’t grasp. 

Then there’s me. I feel like the "EM3" student in the back of the spiritual classroom. The one that is falling behind, the one that seems like a loser in Spiritual School.

I’m struggling just to pass the day without hating myself. I’m struggling with my sexuality, with the loss of my mother, and with the terrifying thought that I "sent her into hell after knowing the truth."  It's like I killed her and how much I hate myself. While others are "bearing fruit," I am just trying to keep my head above water. I feel like a Gentile in my own church, where everyone else is a Jew. I thought maybe if I didn't had all these issues and struggles, I would probably be like them too, an Express student.

I judge my internal reality against everyone else’s external highlight reel.

Don't get me wrong. I love my Church, I love my cell people, everyone is nice towards me. I just seem to be the odd one out where I seem to be questioning, failing, without purpose and meaning in life. Like as if I don't know how to put my trust in God and walk a true Christian life.

It’s easy to assume that those who are "steady" simply don't have these wars within. They don't seem to know the weight of "killing a more heavier sin" every single day, or the crushing fear that God might simply pass me by because I can't keep up.

I read 1 Corinthians 3:13 and I tremble. I see the "fire" and I’m convinced my work will be revealed as hay and stubble. I feel like the servant who took his one talent and buried it in the dirt because he was afraid, and he was cursed by his Master.

My Christian walk has become a legalistic checklist:

• Did I pray enough?

• Am I bearing fruit?

• Am I drawing close, or am I slipping?

I am terrified of the words, "Depart from me, I never knew you." (Matthew 7:21-23)

"Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling" (Philippians 2:12)

I’ve turned my relationship with God into a work-based performance review, and because I feel like a "useless sinner," I’m convinced like I’m failing the audit. I want to surrender, but I don’t even know what the posture of surrender looks like when I'm paralyzed by fear. 

The Fear of Surrender

I told God I want to surrender, but the truth is: I don’t know how. I live in a constant state of spiritual vertigo. I’m terrified that every misstep will cause me to lose my foothold; that the God of the Old Testament is waiting to punish me because of my failures. I carry the heavy burden of my father’s salvation, wondering if I’ll be judged for my silence and my fractured relationship with him.

Everyday I wake up, fear and dread overcomes me. Is Christ my Treasure? Yes of course! But I worry I will lose Him. I pray to God and the first few words are "I'm sorry God." Everyday, I just worry, worry I done something wrong. Worry I never got on His good side. Even though I have Lord Jesus Christ, I just worry.

I know that nothing can separate us from the Love of God (Romans 8:38-39) but I worry I quench the Holy Spirit. (1 Thessolonians 5:19) 

I want the Old Testament God to stay in the past. Its scary to read Leviticus and Numbers of so many rituals and laws, that I could not keep up. I want to know the love and joy I hear people talk about in Lord Jesus Christ, but I live in a state of spiritual vertigo, afraid that one misstep will cost me my foothold in God's presence.

I don't want the praises of men. I just want to know I’m not abandoned. I want to know that being a "worthless sinner" isn't the end of my story, but the beginning of His grace.

Then there is the weight of my family. I feel a crushing "KPI" to share the Gospel with my dad and stepmom, but our relationship is fractured. I live in fear that their blood will be on my hands, a burden "Express" Christians with Christian parents will never understand.

I am an ambassador for a Kingdom I’m still trying to find my way around.

My heart is a tangle of spiritual vertigo. I struggle with habitual sin - pornography, my sexuality, a deep-seated hatred for the way I look. My spiritual life doesn't look like a "success story." It looks like a construction site that’s been abandoned for years.

And yet, I feel the weight to share the Gospel with my parents, my loved ones, and people around me. But most days, the news feels stuck in my throat, and the "goodness" is buried under a mountain of fear.

I look at my dad and my stepmom, and my heart breaks. I want them to be saved. I want them to see what I see, that there is a Jesus who stands between us and the brokenness of our own sin. But I don't know how to tell them.

The Fear of the Bridge Burning

I am paralyzed by the "what-ifs.

"What if they think I’ve fallen into a blind faith?"

What if they hate me more than they already do?" 

"What if my words only drive them further away?"

I feel like a "useless vessel." I see others in church who seem to have "boldness" naturally, who can speak to strangers with ease. And here I am, a Product Manager, who is supposed to be "good at communicating," yet I can’t even find the words to talk to my own family.

Every time I think about inviting my parents to church, I can already hear the answer.

"No."

It’s a "no" rooted in decades of Taoist tradition. It’s a "no" that says, "This is our way, and that is your way." It’s a "no" that makes me feel like I am standing on one side of a Great Divide, watching the people I love most stay on the other.

It’s a threat to their identity. When I ask them to come to service, its like they hear me asking them to leave their ancestors, their culture, and their comfort.

The Fear of the "Silent Savior"

I worry that their "no" is my fault. If I were more "bold," more "Express-stream," or more "holy," my invitation would carry more weight. I feel like a "useless vessel" because I can’t seem to crack the shell of their belief system. I want them to see the unrighteousness and the need for a Savior, but all they see is a son who has joined a "Western" religion.

I weep because I feel like I’m failing God’s "KPI" for my life. I told God that I would give up years of my own life if it meant they could be saved. I am willing to pay the price, but I don’t know how to start the conversation.

It feels like I am carrying a burden of "blood on my hands" if I failed to lead them to Christ.

I worry that when I die, God will judge me for my silence. I worry that while other "Express" Christians have parents who are already saved, I am the one stuck in the "EM3" struggle of a fractured, unbelieving home

I am asking God for the words, but maybe for now, He is looking at my tears. Maybe He sees that my relationship with my parents "sucks," and He knows that a bridge can't be built in a day. But I want them to be saved. 

I can only hope they will see a change in me that makes them wonder Why? And maybe that "Why" is where the bridge begins. 

The Divided Heart: The Exhaustion of Loving What I Fear

I am a walking contradiction. What a hypocrite I am.

I spend my days paralyzed by the fear of God. I worry that every misstep is a strike against me, that my life I am living is displeasure towards Him and that I am an "EM3" failure in the eyes of Heaven. I fear the judgment. I fear the fire.

And yet, I love my sin.

The War Within the Pleasure

I love the escape of pornography. I love the release of masturbation. I love the intimacy of gay sex. There is a part of me that craves these things because they are the only places where I feel "seen" or "soothed" in a world that feels cold and demanding. I hate myself and I used all these to comfort myself, to make my needs and wants met.

Then the cycle begins: the pleasure is followed by a crushing wave of "hypocrite." I tell myself I’m using Jesus’ grace as a "license" to stay in the mud. I worry that I’ve turned the Gospel into a cheap excuse to keep doing what I want.

I am tired. I am so, so tired of the back-and-forth. The lies of me saying I want to repent, but my heart doesn't seem like it wants to. 

The Problem with "Proper" Fear

I don't know how to "fear God" properly. When I try to show reverence, it feels like legalism, a desperate attempt to stay on His good side so He won't punish me. When I try to "repent," it feels like a lie, because I know that in my weakness, I’ll probably want that escape again tomorrow.

How can I show "awe" to a God I’m terrified of? How can I "surrender" a life that I’m still trying to protect? 

The "License" vs. The "Lifeline"

Maybe my mistake is thinking that grace is a "license" I’ve stolen. Maybe grace isn't a license at all, maybe it’s a lifeline for the person who is currently drowning.

If I could stop sinning on my own, I wouldn't need a Savior. If I could "hear God’s voice" perfectly and "walk right" every day, I’d be the hero of my own story. But I’m not the hero.

I don’t know how to repent "properly." I don’t know how to feel "true joy." Right now, all I have is this honesty: Lord, I love these sins, and I hate that I love them. I fear You, and I’m afraid I don’t fear You enough. I am a hypocrite, and I am exhausted.

Searching for the Anchor

Right now, my life is a search. I’m searching for a way to love a self I’ve detested for so long. I’m searching for the courage to speak when I feel like a hypocrite.

I am afraid, yes. I am distant, yes. But I’m still here. Maybe being an "EM3 student" in the kingdom of God isn't about getting the highest marks. But I don't want to be a loser in the Spiritual Kingdom. I know my identity is in Christ, that I am child of God. But I can't help to shake that feeling of being a EM3 student because others seem to be soaring better than me. During judgement day, there will be a final judgment of a believer's work. (1 Corinthians 3:12-15)

The Silent Sunday: The Loneliness of "I’m Good"

Every week, the question comes. Sometimes it’s in the bright hallway after service; sometimes it’s in the intimate circle of a cell group.

"How are you?"

"How was your week?"

And every week, I feel the same tightening in my chest. I have two choices: I can tell the truth and risk being seen as the "perpetual failure," or I can lie to keep the peace.

I would usually prefer to choose to lie. "Everything’s good," I say.

But lying is a sin also. I'm conflicted. 

The Fear of Being the "Project"

The truth is too messy for a 5-minute catch-up. How do I tell my pastor or my cell group that I am still wrestling with the same sins I was struggling with ten years ago? How do I explain that while they are celebrating testimonies and wedding dates, I am just trying to survive the crushing weight of self-hatred and a sexuality I can't "pray away"?

I’m terrified that if I’m honest, I will become a "project." I don't want to be the person people look at with pity, the one they pray for with that specific tone of voice that says, “He’s still not over that yet?” "How is it He is still stuck in this and not putting his Faith and Trust in God?" I feel like a "repeat student" in a school where everyone else has already graduated.

The Sin of Silence

I want to stay quiet because I’m afraid that speaking my mess aloud is a sin in itself, that it shows a lack of gratitude or a lack of "victory" in Christ. We have been taught that we should "testify" to what God is doing. But what if it feels like God isn't "doing" anything yet but watching me struggle? Or what if He has and I failed to see it? 

So I shut my mouth. I stay a "gentile" in a room full of saints. I play the part who has his life together, while inside, I am screaming for someone to tell me that it’s okay to be "constantly struggling."

I suspect I’m not the only one lying. I suspect there are other "EM3" Christians in the room, in the Church, hiding their own scars and their own "one talent" fears behind a smile.

The Static in the Silence: When I Can’t "Hear" God

In my church circles, people talk about "hearing from God" like they’re checking a WhatsApp message.

"The Lord gave me a word..." 

"I felt a clear confirmation..." 

"God spoke to me through a stranger..."

I listen to these testimonies with a mix of envy and a growing sense of panic. I look at my own life, my messy thoughts, my repetitive struggles, the listless hours at my desk, and all I hear is static and that silence.

The Fear of the "Broken Sheep"

The Bible says, "My sheep know my voice," and that verse haunts me. If I can’t hear Him, does that mean I’m not His? Or am I just a "failure" of a Christian who can't tune into the right frequency?

I worry that I’m wasting my life. I’m terrified that I’ll reach the end only to realize God was shouting directions while I was staring at the map upside down. That He has been speaking throughout yet I was deaf. I worry that I’m so "clueless" and "listless" that I’ve missed my calling entirely.

The "Faking" Trap

Sometimes, I try to force it. I desperately want a sign, so I try to "manufacture" a voice in my head. Is that God? Or is that just me telling myself what I want to hear so I don't feel like a loser? It’s exhausting to perform spirituality. It’s even more exhausting to feel like I'm the only one in the room who didn't get the memo.

I don’t have a "word from the Lord" today. Maybe I did, It might have been that I must have been too "harden" in hoping to hear the "right" tone of voice from Him? I just hope that He is still in the room with me, even if I’m the only one who can’t hear the music.

The Only Thing Left

At the end of the day, past the acne scars, the career doldrums, and the sexuality I’ve wrestled with since my teens, there is only one cry left:

I just want to know I am not abandoned.

I want to cry. Not because I’m sad, but because I am exhausted.

If I am an EM3 student, does the Teacher still love me? If I am a slave with only one talent, and that talent is just "staying alive," is that enough? I don't know how to "do" faith properly anymore. I only know how to be messy. And I’m desperately hoping that God meets me in this mess, rather than waiting for me to clean it up.

I just want God. And I’m starting to hope that, despite the mess, He still wants me too.

I am tired of the "performance review" in my head. I’m tired of waking up and wondering if today is the day I finally "walk right" with God, only to fall into the same habitual sins of pornography, masturbation, and the same internal wrestling with my sexuality.

I believe in Jesus. I really do. But there is a terrifying gap between what I believe and how I feel.

The Exhaustion of "Not Enough"

I spend my days worried that I’m not doing enough for Him. I look at my life, the lack of "spiritual fruit," the struggle to share the Gospel with my parents, the "messy" thoughts in my head and I picture that God is looking at His watch, waiting for me to get my act together before He blaze in fierce anger.

I worry that He will depart from me because I am "habitual." I feel like a broken product on a production line that keeps failing the quality control test and that he wants to use others and discard me away. Like how the Israelites kept failing their obedience and faith and God wanted to raise Moses as great nation instead. (Exodus 32:10 , Numbers 14:12)

Performance vs. Presence

I’ve realized that I’ve turned my faith into a job, a job I’m failing. I treat God like a boss who is looking for reasons to fire me, rather than a Father who knows exactly how "messy" I am.

The Bible says we are saved by grace, but I live as if I am saved by my own "steadfastness." I look at the "Express stream" Christians and think their lack of struggle is what makes them holy. But maybe holiness isn't the absence of a struggle; maybe it’s the honesty within the struggle.

The Prayer of the Exasperated

Right now, I don't have the energy to "surrender" in the way the books describe it. I don't have the courage to be a "high flyer" or know what to do now.

So my prayer is simply this: Lord, I am tired. I am messy. I am still falling. But I am here. If I am a slave with only one talent, and that talent is just the honesty of my own brokenness, please take it. Please forgive me if I am such a failure, that I don't know how to live life properly, that I am scared. Please tell me I am not abandoned. Please let me breathe.

I don’t know how to walk "properly" yet. I only know how to limp. And I have to believe that Lord Jesus walks at the pace of the person who limps, not just the one who runs. That Lord Jesus still is patient with me and that I can rest in Him, properly.