For the longest time, I thought that if I was a Christian – bad things wouldn’t happen. If I prayed more, followed the rules closer and did everything in my power to “live” as a Christian – things would go well for me. My understanding was that if your life was going good – you must obviously be pleasing God. It seemed to be a simple economy: I do good things – God allows me to live a good life.

I thought I saw further confirmation of this “law of Christian karma” when I attended church.  Enamored with the examples of the financially “blessed” churchgoers I saw Sunday after Sunday, led me to conclude that “good” Christians were rewarded with the good life. On the flipside, this meant that Christians with problems must have somehow royally ticked God off.

But going through tough times have deepened my understanding of how God really works. In fact, it’s in the tough times that I am able to discern his will more clearly. And even though I do believe God’s people are blessed when they choose to follow God’s ways – that does not create a protective forcefield from the broken world we live in. Contrary to what the prosperity gospel might promise – following God does not always guarantee the good life right here and right now.

It’s extremely hard to accept the fact that being a Christian doesn’t mean you will live in a perpetual state of blissful content. In fact sometimes, the more you allow God access into those innermost regions of your heart – the more discontent you find yourself. Discontent that you can’t get it right, that you consistently fail in a particular area over and over and that this is not where you belong.

Reading Romans recently, I came across this passage that I had never really paid attention to before:   

“Circumcision has value if you observe the law, but if you break the law, you have become as though you had not been circumcised. If those who are not circumcised keep the law's requirements, will they not be regarded as though they were circumcised? The one who is not circumcised physically and yet obeys the law will condemn you who, even though you have the written code and circumcision, are a lawbreaker. A man is not a Jew if he is only one outwardly, nor is circumcision merely outward and physical. No, a man is a Jew if he is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code. Such a man's praise is not from men, but from God.” (Romans 2:25-29)

My initial understanding always led me to focus more on circumcision as a sign of obedience – of being known as a child of God. A spiritual circumcision proved that I was chosen by God to be an example of Christ. I never really went any further than that assumption. But in reading it again, I started to pay attention to the end part of this passage: “And circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit.”

Although I do believe that circumcision as a sign is a one time act made by the Spirit on a believer’s heart – I began to wonder if it couldn’t also mean something even more… It’s no surprise that the act of circumcision involves pain. Something has to be cut away and permanently removed in the process. Following in this line of thinking, why wouldn’t a spiritual circumcision also cause pain? Then I read this verse in Deuteronomy 30:6: “The Lord your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart and with all your soul, and live.”

I really believe that as a child of God, he may choose to bless me in ways that the world would deem to be a success. And these blessings may or may not be contingent on my good works. I also now realize that being a Christian requires me to accept that when my heart is not devoted to God – the Spirit may need to do some cutting. God wants me to love him more than anyone or anything – and to keep him first in my heart may demand a removal of something.

I believe that the act of a spiritual circumcision is more than just a one-time sign that I belong to God.

I think it can also be a constant reminder that life with God may hurt sometimes because the Spirit is not finished cutting away the damaged layers of my heart. And ultimately…this means that God loves me.

Melissa Hedden is a special education middle school teacher and almost-confirmed Anglican. She lives with her husband, Shawn, in Hanford, CA. They are expecting their first child, Ryan, in January.