Sunday, March 23, 2014
Who would keep fighting a battle when they've already conquered hell?
Who would make bail and yet choose to remain in their cell?
Who would keep searching for the cure when they've already been made well?
And who would desperately try to cover stains that have long been washed farewell?
I just want to make Him proud. I'm determined to make the Lord pleased with me.
I'll try harder. I'll do better next time. Then he'll really love me...right?
"Love me!" my heart craves, cries, begs.
"I do!" His Word promises again and again.
What heights, what depths (Eph. 3:18); He loved us first (1 John 4:19); a love that surpasses knowledge (Eph. 3:19); I have loved you (John 15:9); the Father loves you (John 16:27); He gave himself for you (Eph. 5:2); and on and on.
But that slimy serpents slithers through the grooves of my cerebellum whispering the age old lie, "Did God really say...?"
So, I doubt.
And I allow the Enemy to convince me that I'm surely but one misstep away from God leaving me this way - forever.
You know the saying, "If it's too good to be true then it probably isn't true"? Well, HIM loving ME is too good to be true.
I'm not wanted enough, disciplined enough, worthy enough, likable enough, together enough, redeemable enough, (fill in the blank) enough.
Enough, enough already!
You'd think I'd know better by now. You'd think, I'd have enough "whatever" to overcome this doubt. You'd think I'd be stronger, wiser, more victorious...by now.
What is wrong with me?
Me, me, me.
There I go again. Looking at me when I should be looking at Him.
Should be, ought to.
Always comparing, measuring, always falling short.
Still believing the lie that I have at least some ability to save myself.
How long, Lord, will You let me be haunted by my inadequacies? How long will you allow me to chase after Your love? Where is this "rest" You talk about? Where is the "easy yoke"? Where is all the "free, free indeed"?
I was certain that, by now, you would have healed me.
But here I am, once again: same doubts, same shame, same prayer, same plea, same demons, same struggle...
You've been good, you are good, you will be good.
Whether you choose to give me deliverance from my doubt,
or grace for the moment, I will praise you.
If a broken and contrite heart you will never despise, then I'm in luck, because broken and contrite is all I have, it's all I am...
but it's all yours.
I have no choice but to trust Him, to wait on Him, to hold on, for dear life, to the glimpses, to the promises, to the marvelous mystery of a God who, while we were still sinners, rejecting him, mocking him, even crucifying him, would willingly sacrifice himself to earn us, earn ME, a seat at His table.
If he did that for us - for me - then surely he isn't
disappointed when I pull out a chair, and actually