A friend once described work as, “just another opportunity to love.” I thought that was cute. And kind of forgot about it. At the time, I was in a job I hated, partially because I was almost always all by myself. I love working with people and detest being by myself. So the whole “just another opportunity to love” didn’t really fit so much. It was more like “just another opportunity to not start belting out the soundtrack to The Little Mermaid to keep myself from boredom.” It required a great deal of self-control on a daily basis. Or maybe it was “just another opportunity to be thankful.” Hmm…it was one of those.
Well, all that to say, tonight I got to experience both of those (well maybe not Little Mermaid.)-- “just another opportunity to love ” and “just another opportunity to be thankful.” Long story short: it was a crazy, highly stressful night. Even though I’m “just a hostess” I busted my butt to help the highly stressed servers. I bussed tables, ran food, watered, set, polished silverware, seated people, apologized to angry guests that the food was taking so long…(none of which is actually in my job description, by the way). We had a huge group of people who ran a tab of about $1000, so I knew that the server I worked with would get an automatic gratuity of close to $200, plus there were other people in the restaurant. So it’s only logical for me to expect that she would give me a decent tip for helping her out.
Seven dollars.
That’s it. Didn’t even break the double digits. Now, I’m not trying to be greedy here, but I’d be lying to say I wasn’t rather put off. Did she really value my help that little? I should’ve just let her deal with the pissed off people by herself for that appreciation. I left work trying very hard to have a good attitude about the whole thing.
As I brooded while driving home, I very quietly heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “Who do you work for?”
“But did you see how she treated me?” I responded, avoiding the question. “Not to mention, she has this terrible habit of patronizing me so that I feel like I’m a seven year old and it’s making me crazy!” Silence. I knew He was waiting for my response, although I was still determined to get His sympathy for this malfeance. “I can’t believe she treated me like that. How selfish. I would be so much more generous. Maybe we should switch places. What do You say to that? I know I just got hired but I could get a promotion.”
Once more a tender, gentle voice, “Who do you work for?”
He wasn’t going to let this one go.
Finally, I begrudgingly answered, “You. I work for You.”
“In that case, who makes certain you get adequate recompense for your work? Who provides for you?”
“But you don’t -- ”
“Who provides for you?”
Sigh. “You do.”
At that moment I remembered Moshe’s quote, “work is just another opportunity to love.” I knew that God was asking me to love, even though that was the last thing I felt like doing. And I knew that He was asking me to let go and trust Him that I would get justly rewarded for my hard work.
I thought of that pathetic, measly seven dollars, a bitter reminder of the apparently low value placed on my labor. However, slowly my perception of those seven dollars changed. I suddenly realized that they weren’t meant to make me bitter, but to teach me, to train me, and quite frankly, build some desperately needed character in me. After all, work is just another opportunity to love.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
"Jesus loves me this I know." Or do I?
I hate cliche phrases. Let me just say that, right now. The phrase, "Jesus loves me" is super cliche. I hate to say that as it sounds highly sacrilegious (and, let's not be trite, is). That's because that phrase has been totally worn out, overused, and spouted off without a hint of passion. We say it because we're supposed to. We "believe" it for the same reason. We're supposed to.
My entire faith is founded on this belief. This is elementary doctrine, for crying out loud! Little kids sing it in Sunday school. Evangelists preach it from the streets. We sing about it in every hymn and worship song out there. But how many of us actually, truly, with our hearts, believe it?
I don't.
I mean, I do.
And I don't.
I want to believe it. I'm desperate to believe it. I talk about it and say that it's true. I convince others that it is. But something inside of me resists the belief that a God as big and powerful and amazing as the Almighty would possibly love someone like me. It is almost unfathomable for my puny little mind to grasp that He could genuinely love me. Why would He want to?
But, the more I search the Scriptures, the more evidence I find for His love.
Take 1 John 3:1 "How great the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God. And this is what we are."
Whoa. Lavish is a big word. It implies extravagance. Excessiveness. It's how you'd describe the guy who has a party that is over-the-top ridiculous, but absolutely mind-blowing and the talk of the whole town. It's not the term you use to describe the powerful but DISTANT god that I've come to believe in. Especially when the thing being lavished is love. Towards me. Puh-lease. I stopped believing in fairy tales a LONG time ago.
Another one of these crazy and absurd verses is Ephesians 1:3 "For He chose us in Him, before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight."
What on earth was this guy thinking? God chose me? Really...you expect me to buy that?
Nonetheless, as I've genuinely pondered these Scriptures (as ridiculous as they may seem), something very strange and wonderful is becoming apparent. While it may seem logical to me that a God as awesome as He claims to be couldn't possibly love me, I'm starting to realize that there's a fallacy in my logic. You see, to claim that He doesn't or couldn't love me is to lessen who He is. It's making Him out to be way small and insignificant.
A god whose powerful? Mighty? Egotistical? I can buy that. But a God whose personal and intimate and caring? A God who "humbles himself" and shows up on earth as a man? A God who submits himself unto death, even death on a cross? That's crazy! It defies logic. And yet, it's wonderful, glorious, and in it's defiance, satisfies logic in a way that my futile religion cannot.
It is because He's personal, because He's intimate, because He comes down to our level...that is what makes this God so incredible. That is what sets the gospel of Jesus Christ apart from every other account of god--even mine. It is only God, whose ways are far beyond me, that could love--and chooses to love--even someone as insignificant as me.
"How great is the love that the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God. And this is what we are." (1 John 3:1)
In essence, "Jesus loves me.
This I know."
My entire faith is founded on this belief. This is elementary doctrine, for crying out loud! Little kids sing it in Sunday school. Evangelists preach it from the streets. We sing about it in every hymn and worship song out there. But how many of us actually, truly, with our hearts, believe it?
I don't.
I mean, I do.
And I don't.
I want to believe it. I'm desperate to believe it. I talk about it and say that it's true. I convince others that it is. But something inside of me resists the belief that a God as big and powerful and amazing as the Almighty would possibly love someone like me. It is almost unfathomable for my puny little mind to grasp that He could genuinely love me. Why would He want to?
But, the more I search the Scriptures, the more evidence I find for His love.
Take 1 John 3:1 "How great the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called children of God. And this is what we are."
Whoa. Lavish is a big word. It implies extravagance. Excessiveness. It's how you'd describe the guy who has a party that is over-the-top ridiculous, but absolutely mind-blowing and the talk of the whole town. It's not the term you use to describe the powerful but DISTANT god that I've come to believe in. Especially when the thing being lavished is love. Towards me. Puh-lease. I stopped believing in fairy tales a LONG time ago.
Another one of these crazy and absurd verses is Ephesians 1:3 "For He chose us in Him, before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight."
What on earth was this guy thinking? God chose me? Really...you expect me to buy that?
Nonetheless, as I've genuinely pondered these Scriptures (as ridiculous as they may seem), something very strange and wonderful is becoming apparent. While it may seem logical to me that a God as awesome as He claims to be couldn't possibly love me, I'm starting to realize that there's a fallacy in my logic. You see, to claim that He doesn't or couldn't love me is to lessen who He is. It's making Him out to be way small and insignificant.
A god whose powerful? Mighty? Egotistical? I can buy that. But a God whose personal and intimate and caring? A God who "humbles himself" and shows up on earth as a man? A God who submits himself unto death, even death on a cross? That's crazy! It defies logic. And yet, it's wonderful, glorious, and in it's defiance, satisfies logic in a way that my futile religion cannot.
It is because He's personal, because He's intimate, because He comes down to our level...that is what makes this God so incredible. That is what sets the gospel of Jesus Christ apart from every other account of god--even mine. It is only God, whose ways are far beyond me, that could love--and chooses to love--even someone as insignificant as me.
"How great is the love that the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God. And this is what we are." (1 John 3:1)
In essence, "Jesus loves me.
This I know."
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The Beckoning
I entered the temple and there it was. Right there, in front of me--large, lonely, and covered in bronze. It was waiting for me. Beckoning, even. I stood staring at the somewhat intimidating piece of furniture (if you could call it that). Everything within me desired to turn and run, but something kept me there. I had come for a reason. A strange mixture of fear, curiosity, and purpose filled my senses as I ventured closer to the altar. I pictured hundreds and hundreds of bulls and goats being sacrificed there, year after year, time after time. I imagined the the priests in their priestly garments, slaughtering the animals, leaving the altar a bloody mess. It was supposed to be an atonement for sin. But bulls and goats would never be enough. I knew that. However, that wasn't why I had come, my sins had already been paid for. No, I was here for another reason. I had been summoned.
The same voice that had called me there, spoke again. Soft, yet audible. "What gets on that altar doesn't come back off."
I started to nod, imagining the bulls and goats whose lives would end here. Then a shudder went down my spine as His words sank in and I realized what He meant. He meant me. He meant that I wouldn't get off. That was why I was here. I had followed Him all this time, believing His promises, obeying His voice, and I had come to die. To climb onto that altar and be sacrificed.
I'd said I'd go. I'd said I'd do whatever it took. I'd said I was prepared for anything. But this? Death? This wasn't what I signed up for. And yet, it was. His own words were, "If anyone desires to find his life, he must lose it." They'd seemed so poetic and beautiful at the time, stirring up images of war heroes sacrificing themselves for the betterment of the people. But with the altar staring brazenly in my face, I was no longer so certain. How could this possibly be the betterment of anything?
And suddenly, it was as if a light went off in my heart. He wasn't commanding me to die. He was inviting me. His words weren't a threat, they were a promise. What gets on that altar will not come back off. That means me. That means my flesh. That means this constant battle, this constant war inside of me can cease--I would die so that He could live. He was offering to kill the very things that I had begged Him to destroy so many times before. My heart began to pound in excitement as I began to comprehend the reality of the offer that lay before me.
Still, it was my choice. I could climb onto that altar and be sacrificed or turn and run out the same way I'd entered. If I left, I would still be alive, unscathed. If I stayed...well, there was no guarantee. Excitement and fear collided inside of me, as I weighed the decision, My flesh screamed in agony while my spirit leaped in anticipation. I could almost hear the hordes of hell warring with the angels in heaven over my choice. If I climbed onto that altar, there was no turning back. What got on wasn't coming back off. I turned to leave, unable to bear the thought of my bloodied flesh on that altar, but something stopped me.
I had come this far already. I couldn't turn back now. Inhaling deeply and mustering every ounce of courage inside me, I turned around and stared brazenly at the bronze display before me.
The altar, it would be.
The same voice that had called me there, spoke again. Soft, yet audible. "What gets on that altar doesn't come back off."
I started to nod, imagining the bulls and goats whose lives would end here. Then a shudder went down my spine as His words sank in and I realized what He meant. He meant me. He meant that I wouldn't get off. That was why I was here. I had followed Him all this time, believing His promises, obeying His voice, and I had come to die. To climb onto that altar and be sacrificed.
I'd said I'd go. I'd said I'd do whatever it took. I'd said I was prepared for anything. But this? Death? This wasn't what I signed up for. And yet, it was. His own words were, "If anyone desires to find his life, he must lose it." They'd seemed so poetic and beautiful at the time, stirring up images of war heroes sacrificing themselves for the betterment of the people. But with the altar staring brazenly in my face, I was no longer so certain. How could this possibly be the betterment of anything?
And suddenly, it was as if a light went off in my heart. He wasn't commanding me to die. He was inviting me. His words weren't a threat, they were a promise. What gets on that altar will not come back off. That means me. That means my flesh. That means this constant battle, this constant war inside of me can cease--I would die so that He could live. He was offering to kill the very things that I had begged Him to destroy so many times before. My heart began to pound in excitement as I began to comprehend the reality of the offer that lay before me.
Still, it was my choice. I could climb onto that altar and be sacrificed or turn and run out the same way I'd entered. If I left, I would still be alive, unscathed. If I stayed...well, there was no guarantee. Excitement and fear collided inside of me, as I weighed the decision, My flesh screamed in agony while my spirit leaped in anticipation. I could almost hear the hordes of hell warring with the angels in heaven over my choice. If I climbed onto that altar, there was no turning back. What got on wasn't coming back off. I turned to leave, unable to bear the thought of my bloodied flesh on that altar, but something stopped me.
I had come this far already. I couldn't turn back now. Inhaling deeply and mustering every ounce of courage inside me, I turned around and stared brazenly at the bronze display before me.
The altar, it would be.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Contentment
Contentment is a hard thing for me. Partially, because I'm so used to the feeling of discontent that when I am content I almost don't know what to do with myself. But lately, I've been learning more about what contentment is and what contentment isn't. Let's start with what it isn't. Contentment isn't:
a) having life go exactly as you'd like it
b) the state of feeling happy and excited all the time
c) a feeling at all
d) eternal optimism
Contentment is:
a) a choice that I make or don't make on a daily basis
b) something that comes from pursuing the Lord more than pursuing my own needs
I guess I tend to get caught up in this ridiculous cycle: if I were in another country, traveling the world, I would be content or if I was going to college in another place I would be content. Or if I just weren't still here! If I had a job, if I quit my job, if I had a better job, if I could spend my time painting or writing, if I was in a relationship, if I just didn't have to deal with boys period, if I was busier, if I wasn't so busy...do you see where this is going? No matter where I am, there will always be something about my life that isn't perfect or even satisfactory. I can spend my time whining about these things, or look beyond them and choose to have a good attitude.
Paul said that he had learned the secret of being content in any and every situation. And I think the difference between Paul and me is that I focus on the temporal and Paul focused on the eternal. His focus was heavenward, whereas I keep looking at my circumstance. Hmm...maybe it's time that I took a little hint from this apostle. Because honestly, I really don't want to spend my entire life whining about what's wrong with it. That sounds like fun. I'd rather focus on the things that are good. And the one thing that never changes: the Lord. No matter where I am, He will always be the same. He will always be good. Keeping my eyes on Him will radically change my perspective and remind me that this world is only for awhile. The best is yet to come.
So, here's to looking beyond my circumstances. And choosing contentment.
a) having life go exactly as you'd like it
b) the state of feeling happy and excited all the time
c) a feeling at all
d) eternal optimism
Contentment is:
a) a choice that I make or don't make on a daily basis
b) something that comes from pursuing the Lord more than pursuing my own needs
I guess I tend to get caught up in this ridiculous cycle: if I were in another country, traveling the world, I would be content or if I was going to college in another place I would be content. Or if I just weren't still here! If I had a job, if I quit my job, if I had a better job, if I could spend my time painting or writing, if I was in a relationship, if I just didn't have to deal with boys period, if I was busier, if I wasn't so busy...do you see where this is going? No matter where I am, there will always be something about my life that isn't perfect or even satisfactory. I can spend my time whining about these things, or look beyond them and choose to have a good attitude.
Paul said that he had learned the secret of being content in any and every situation. And I think the difference between Paul and me is that I focus on the temporal and Paul focused on the eternal. His focus was heavenward, whereas I keep looking at my circumstance. Hmm...maybe it's time that I took a little hint from this apostle. Because honestly, I really don't want to spend my entire life whining about what's wrong with it. That sounds like fun. I'd rather focus on the things that are good. And the one thing that never changes: the Lord. No matter where I am, He will always be the same. He will always be good. Keeping my eyes on Him will radically change my perspective and remind me that this world is only for awhile. The best is yet to come.
So, here's to looking beyond my circumstances. And choosing contentment.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The Intercessor's Heart
The call of an intercessor is not exactly glamorous. Seriously, there is no self-glory whatsoever involved. I mean, being a missionary to the long lost tribes of Indonesia isn't exactly glamorous either, but it definitely has its glory appeal. Whhat Christian doesn't like a story of the heroic missionary who goes in against all odds and leads and entire people group to Jesus? But, intercession? Nada.
You see, as an intercessor, you spend all this time, energy, and emotion praying for people or nations who have absolutely no idea--and never will have an idea--that you did. You may even come to care deeply for people who may never even know you exist. That's the crazy thing about intercession. Sometimes you spend all this time in prayer for people you don't even know and who definitely don't know you. What's even crazier is when the Holy Spirit reveals things to you about these people that you couldn't possibly know or give you a picture of His heart for them and a glimpse of their calling. And your job is to pray. And you may never ever see the effects of your prayers. Yet, still, you pray.
Awhile ago, God asked me if I was willing ot take up the mantle of intercessor. "It's hard." He said, "There's no glory and no glamour involved. It will hurt. Your heart will break and those for whom it breaks will never know. You will learn things about people that no one else knows and you'll cry for those you've never met. If you accept, you will know my heart for people and come to love them as I love them. You may never see how your prayers effected them. But they will. Are you willing?"
For a long time, I was silent, pondering. I pondered the prospect of pain. I don't like pain. I pondered how no one would see. I like being noticed. I pondered how I would get nothing in return. I want compensation. As I pondered, I thought about how foolish it was for God to ask me to do something like that. "Really? He thought I'd say, "yes"?" The words I heard running through my brain were not exactly laced with surrender, "Why, sure, God! That sounds like my idea of a good time! Heart breaking for people I don't know. Swell."
I kept pondering. And then my ponderings led me down another path. I pondered the people who no one ever prayed for. The people no one saw or cared about. In my heart, I heard the words of Ezekiel the prophet.
"I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none." Ezekiel 22:30
And suddenly, I knew. I couldn't say, "no." These people may never know that I prayed, but that didn't matter. What matters is that I prayed. All of a sudden, I felt this earnestress rise up inside of me, this passion for those whom no one else would pray for.
"Yes." I said, scarcely believing the words coming out of my mouth, "I'll take it. I'll take the mantle of intercessor."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
You see, as an intercessor, you spend all this time, energy, and emotion praying for people or nations who have absolutely no idea--and never will have an idea--that you did. You may even come to care deeply for people who may never even know you exist. That's the crazy thing about intercession. Sometimes you spend all this time in prayer for people you don't even know and who definitely don't know you. What's even crazier is when the Holy Spirit reveals things to you about these people that you couldn't possibly know or give you a picture of His heart for them and a glimpse of their calling. And your job is to pray. And you may never ever see the effects of your prayers. Yet, still, you pray.
Awhile ago, God asked me if I was willing ot take up the mantle of intercessor. "It's hard." He said, "There's no glory and no glamour involved. It will hurt. Your heart will break and those for whom it breaks will never know. You will learn things about people that no one else knows and you'll cry for those you've never met. If you accept, you will know my heart for people and come to love them as I love them. You may never see how your prayers effected them. But they will. Are you willing?"
For a long time, I was silent, pondering. I pondered the prospect of pain. I don't like pain. I pondered how no one would see. I like being noticed. I pondered how I would get nothing in return. I want compensation. As I pondered, I thought about how foolish it was for God to ask me to do something like that. "Really? He thought I'd say, "yes"?" The words I heard running through my brain were not exactly laced with surrender, "Why, sure, God! That sounds like my idea of a good time! Heart breaking for people I don't know. Swell."
I kept pondering. And then my ponderings led me down another path. I pondered the people who no one ever prayed for. The people no one saw or cared about. In my heart, I heard the words of Ezekiel the prophet.
"I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none." Ezekiel 22:30
And suddenly, I knew. I couldn't say, "no." These people may never know that I prayed, but that didn't matter. What matters is that I prayed. All of a sudden, I felt this earnestress rise up inside of me, this passion for those whom no one else would pray for.
"Yes." I said, scarcely believing the words coming out of my mouth, "I'll take it. I'll take the mantle of intercessor."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
An Unexpected Visitor
Some things in life simply show up in places you don’t expect them to. Like, the ten dollars you lost two years ago showing up in the pocket of your sister’s ski jacket; or the picture of your five year old self streaking in the grass suddenly appearing on the front of the refrigerator; or (my favorite) the lengthy journal entry you wrote about your brother's dreamy friend making it into your brother's hands. Mmhmm...about that...
Likewise, when some of my heart junk was suddenly pasted to the refrigerator and exposed for what it actually was, I was little surprised. The appearance of pride in my life was something that I thought had been gone for awhile. When I think of pride, I think of arrogance, hotheadedness, egotism, and other such belligerent attitudes. However, that's not always the case. Often--possibly more often than not--pride is subtle. At least, it is in my case.
When I first read this verse, I didn’t immediately think PRIDE, until I read it again slowly and the Holy Spirit illumined some things to me.
James 1:21-22 "Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you. Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says."
Humbly accept the word. This is key. To humbly accept the word of God (meaning the Bible and the whatever He personally asks you to do) means that you don’t try to change the word. You don’t try to fit the word to your box of acceptable things that you want to hear. You don’t try to get around the word or find some way to not obey it. You accept it with humility, recognizing that the word of the Lord is fitting. It’s fitting for what you need to hear that day, in that moment. We must humble ourselves and accept whatever it is God is saying to us. And then, we must obey. Hearing the word isn’t enough. It’s important—it’s impossible to obey, if we don’t first hear—but it doesn’t stop there. We must act on what we’ve heard.
You see, when we choose to not obey the word of God, we’re deceiving ourselves. We’re basically saying to God, “ya know what? Thanks for the advice, but I got this. It sounds like a great idea, but maybe not so much for me right now.” Now, we may not be thinking this in our minds, when we choose to ignore the word of God, but this is what’s going on. Our actions are basically saying to God that we think we know better. That’s what the Bible calls PRIDE.
God hates pride. Proverbs 8:13 “To fear the LORD is to hate evil; I hate pride and arrogance, evil behavior and perverse speech.” Proverbs 16:18 “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” Proverbs 16:5 “The LORD detests all the proud of heart. Be sure of this: They will not go unpunished.” Need I say more?
I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want pride in my life. Choosing to ignore the word of God and not be obedient is, honestly, what I was doing. There’s a saying “ignorance is bliss” that’s because “with knowledge comes responsibility.” Once we know what we must know, we’re fooling ourselves to think that we can get away without doing it and not be held responsible. James 4: 17 says “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins.” Once we’ve heard, we must obey. I was deceiving myself into believe that I was in a better place than I was…I would be obedient later. The problem with later is that it never actually comes. Today is the day to stop making excuses. Lay down our pride. And obey.
Lord, give me the grace to be obedient to You, to walk with You, to follow You, to serve You. I choose to give my heart to You, to be obedient to You. Keep me accountable to that choice…give me the grace to walk it out. Keep me from willing sin, Lord. Purify my heart. Make me new.
Likewise, when some of my heart junk was suddenly pasted to the refrigerator and exposed for what it actually was, I was little surprised. The appearance of pride in my life was something that I thought had been gone for awhile. When I think of pride, I think of arrogance, hotheadedness, egotism, and other such belligerent attitudes. However, that's not always the case. Often--possibly more often than not--pride is subtle. At least, it is in my case.
When I first read this verse, I didn’t immediately think PRIDE, until I read it again slowly and the Holy Spirit illumined some things to me.
James 1:21-22 "Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you. Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says."
Humbly accept the word. This is key. To humbly accept the word of God (meaning the Bible and the whatever He personally asks you to do) means that you don’t try to change the word. You don’t try to fit the word to your box of acceptable things that you want to hear. You don’t try to get around the word or find some way to not obey it. You accept it with humility, recognizing that the word of the Lord is fitting. It’s fitting for what you need to hear that day, in that moment. We must humble ourselves and accept whatever it is God is saying to us. And then, we must obey. Hearing the word isn’t enough. It’s important—it’s impossible to obey, if we don’t first hear—but it doesn’t stop there. We must act on what we’ve heard.
You see, when we choose to not obey the word of God, we’re deceiving ourselves. We’re basically saying to God, “ya know what? Thanks for the advice, but I got this. It sounds like a great idea, but maybe not so much for me right now.” Now, we may not be thinking this in our minds, when we choose to ignore the word of God, but this is what’s going on. Our actions are basically saying to God that we think we know better. That’s what the Bible calls PRIDE.
God hates pride. Proverbs 8:13 “To fear the LORD is to hate evil; I hate pride and arrogance, evil behavior and perverse speech.” Proverbs 16:18 “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” Proverbs 16:5 “The LORD detests all the proud of heart. Be sure of this: They will not go unpunished.” Need I say more?
I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want pride in my life. Choosing to ignore the word of God and not be obedient is, honestly, what I was doing. There’s a saying “ignorance is bliss” that’s because “with knowledge comes responsibility.” Once we know what we must know, we’re fooling ourselves to think that we can get away without doing it and not be held responsible. James 4: 17 says “Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins.” Once we’ve heard, we must obey. I was deceiving myself into believe that I was in a better place than I was…I would be obedient later. The problem with later is that it never actually comes. Today is the day to stop making excuses. Lay down our pride. And obey.
Lord, give me the grace to be obedient to You, to walk with You, to follow You, to serve You. I choose to give my heart to You, to be obedient to You. Keep me accountable to that choice…give me the grace to walk it out. Keep me from willing sin, Lord. Purify my heart. Make me new.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)