Coming from a place of brokenness and sheer disbelief, I realize this 'state of being' is not all that foreign to my life, but rather the 'state of perspective' given by the Holy Spirit is changing my understanding of "me." It's giving me a new, more precise, focus within my journey. It's a vision of how my own vices have trembled my core being. It shows that my identity in Christ which I supposedly clung to daily has been the very one I forsake. It's a vision of how worldliness has blocked the ultimate view. It's a vision of shackles and pain to which my pride clings for the fear my facade may be revealed. I'm seeing in a different light and while the view is still unclear, the blinders have been pushed aside. Now I must choose... pull those blinders back up to protect the shame, the guilt, the pride or tear them down and move in a direction which requires complete trust in the true Comforter and Healer. Sounds simple enough, but anyone who has been here knows the turmoil, the warfare. Protecting what is habitual comes so naturally. Persevering for that which can be so abstract, it goes against our nature... the nature I desperately long to shed.
My heart is heavy. It hurts. What am I doing for the glorification of Christ? How am I serving in an effort to show His love? What do I sacrificially give in an effort to be more like Christ? Why timidity? Where is my faith? "Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever." (Romans 13:8) This I KNOW to be true but do I LIVE it to be true? When my answer comes out as... "it depends on the day," I am not dying to self. I have not shed the old nature. My heart is heavy. It hurts.
I recently was blessed tremendously by a song from Addison Road called "What Do I Know of Holy." It speaks so clearly into my thoughts, my emotions. I weep to know my idea of "Holy" has been crammed into a finite definition that I can grasp. I weep to know my reliance on a God so gracious and merciful has been limited by my short patience. And I weep to know my perseverance and pursuit of Christ equates to mere moments in a day (and embarrassingly enough - I might even be able to say weeks during the rough times). How gut wrenching to realize the very One I say I adore, I push away to keep from facing the very things I despise. What is it about guilt and shame? The choke chain of human effort. I cannot do this alone, I know. So very humiliating one might say, including the carnal me, but I would rather be able to say... so very humbling.
"I think I made you too small. I never feared you at all, no. If you touched my face, would I know you? Looked into my eyes, could I behold you?"
These lyrics stir the sense of my own betrayal, my own shortsightedness. Judas, anyone? When have I released myself, my life, to the control of God? When have I believed that I am who HE says I am? Yes, my "God box" is entirely too small. Compartmentalized in any degree is too small. This would also indicate my lack of fear of the Lord. I do not think God is all fire and fury, but I do believe Him to be just. And then to think of the very hands that took the nails on the cross for my sins... those very hands touching my face? To envision Christ on the cross and me kneeling before Him as he made that exchange... His spotlessness for my dripping stains... this, dear friends, is an image that breaks my willfulness. And to go even further and think of His piercing eyes looking into mine. To catch a glimpse of such a beautiful soul, one so selfless and obedient to God. What treasure can the world provide... what eternal treasure, I should say... that even compares? Absolutely nothing. I long to feel His touch upon my face and gaze upon His splendor. Why does my life not reflect these desires? I have no valid excuse... absolutely nothing.
"What do I know of you who spoke me into motion? Where have I even stood but the shore along your ocean? Are you fire or are you fury? Are you sacred? Are you beautiful? What I know... what do I know of holy?"
My pursuit, my desires - one in the same they ought to be. First... humility.
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