THIS IS CRAZY

I BELIEVE!

This Is Crazy

Tony Visconti

Have you ever played with kinetic sand? It is both pleasing from a tactile standpoint and infuriating all at the same time. The sand somehow loosely sticks together and quickly captures your attention, but if you try to build anything with it, it instantly falls apart.

I wonder if the Prophet Isaiah had something in mind when he wrote: “This lover of emptiness, of nothing, is so out of touch with reality, so far gone, that he can’t even look at what he’s doing, can’t even look at the no-god stick of wood in his hand and say, ‘This is crazy.’” (Isaiah 44:30, The Message)

I first read this passage from Isaiah as a sophomore in college exploring the Bible. Instantly, these words gave me a piercing glimpse into my heart. I knew undeniably that I was a lover of emptiness and that so many of the problems in life had arisen from my inability to see the idols I was worshiping, an inability to say “What I am doing? This is crazy.”

There are times when you read something and know your life will never be the same. This was one of them, and I wondered if life could be different going forward, had I suddenly come back to reality?

I grew up not far from Wheaton in the northern suburbs. Whenever my mom was in a silly mood, she would just call for us by number—I was number 5 of 7. Being a middle child, I rarely encounter a problem

I don’t feel at least a little bit responsible for resolving or at a minimum dissecting. From an early age, I can remember developing an identity as a problem solver. One problem I desperately wanted to resolve as a child was the brokenness I saw in my parents’ relationship. I knew my parents loved me and each other, but I couldn’t understand why they fought so often. This confusion revealed a longing in my heart to find someone who I could experience wholeness and peace with, someone I could please.

Throughout high school and college, I was driven by an ever-growing sense of emptiness. However much the rush of life could distract me, my depression was growing. On the outside I appeared content and relied on my strengths and abilities in sports (volleyball), academics (honor classes) and friendships (I was that goofy friend). But on the inside, I longed for something more.

The more I tried to fill this emptiness, the more disappointed I became. I often thought if I could just find the right girl, things would all work themselves out. Sadly, the relationships I invested so much time in only created new problems. After disappointments in longterm relationships and a growing sense of emptiness throughout college, I was ready to reconsider Christ.

I had started reading the Bible on my own more regularly my sophomore year of college and was reconsidering who God was. I had been taught throughout my Catholic upbringing a “Jesus plus” mentality. Jesus is key to the Catholic and his or her faith, but culturally speaking, the problem is that there are so many other keys, foremost of which is doing good.

In God’s generosity and his pursuit, he placed not one but many people in my life who would help me discover the truth about his Word and his way to live and his eternal hope.

Here are just a few people in a long list of the grace and love God poured out over me. One was my Grandma Jack who bought me The Message, the Bible in contemporary language. This gift and my limited reading of it prepared the soil for others to plant more seeds. One of these consistent planters was my life-long friend Nik. Nik was the Christian closest to me, and he repeatedly presented an alternative to the things I placed so much hope in. He invited me to read the Bible with him and kept being my friend even when I declined the invitation.

In college I discovered a closeness to God whenever I volunteered. Later, when I returned home, I was eager to find a local organization where I could serve. In my search, I stumbled upon a church called The Chapel where I met Rebekah. Rebekah was curious about my faith walk and helped pull together a small group of people just to help me read the Bible more.

It was inside the context of this small group that I began to read God’s Word more thoroughly and began to see up close and personal what friendships with a group of Christians could be like. The more I gave myself over to who God and my church family were calling me to be, the more at peace I was. A year after college, I decided to get baptized and shared my new excitement for Christ with my family and friends.

Today I still feel that same excitement to share the good news about the only One who can fill the deep hole in our hearts. Although there are many days when thankfulness fills me up with joy, there are others when I grieve the shame and sadness that hounded me throughout my adolescence. I find peace knowing I don’t have to run any more. It’s an eternal peace knowing Jesus is by my side.

I set my sights on him, and I have found the One that I can please. God is pleased with me as I put on Christ and all that he has done for sinners like me at the cross. I can’t fix all the problems the world presents, especially those that originate in another’s soul, but I can serve God out of thankfulness for the grace he has extended to me.

Christ is my centering point. When I am dragged under because of the trails of life or my own sin, he lifts me up, and reminds me that: “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)