Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Like A Child

I don’t like being humbled.  I don’t like not being able to do things on my own.  I don’t like stumbling and falling like a child.  But that’s what I have been forced to do with a couple of areas of my life in which I habitually sin.   God is helping me learn to walk in freedom from them, and like a little child, I stumble and fall.  I skin my knees and I get gravel embedded into my hands.  It hurts and it sucks.  I don’t want to learn to walk, I want to run already.  And like a child, I don’t want to accept His hand, I want to push it away.  I choose to grab onto other things to steady myself, rather than walk the hard road of dependence on Him.   But I will never find real balance grabbing on to those other things.  I will never learn to walk in Him as long as I am grabbing anything other than His hand. 

It’s funny how you can have a “quiet time” without actually having a quiet time.  How you can sit at the table and open your Bible or your devotional and just be glazing right over having actual time with God.  You’re reading but not really receiving.  You’re yawning and fighting the temptation to do other things. 

It’s also funny how often this sort of “quiet time” correlates to you allowing sin into your life.  Pride. Not admitting that you are a child and you need His help.  Not grabbing onto His hand that fights for you, pleads for you, created you.  Allowing yourself to grab other things and justifying or ignoring the fact that they are sins.  Sins that you were, at one point, aware of and trying to crucify.  Sins you were willing to go through the difficult process to remove, humbling yourself like a child to be healed.  But suddenly, or maybe gradually, your heart shifted.  You weren’t willing to stumble and fall and trust God throughout the process.   You didn’t give yourself the grace to learn, nor did you admit the dependence on God you needed.  And so, you have slipped back into yourself rather than Him.  Sin crept in.  And quiet times just don’t seem to have the same significance...

The brutal truth:  What is the point of the cross if not to give Him our EVERYTHING?  Our whole hearts and minds and strengths and souls and SINS at the foot of the cross, where Jesus bled out and died.  Where He was CRUCIFIED to give us the hand that heals us.  It is almost not worth it to have a quiet time unless we are willing to surrender it all.  Everything.  Because if our sin is more valuable to us than His awful death, we may as well just hang on to it instead.

But I say “almost” not worth it because I know He fights for us even when we hold on to our sins, that He waits for us to turn to Him with unlimited patience.  Such a gentleman is our God.  Slow to anger, quick to forgive, always compassionate...always loving us despite us.  And there is value in going to Him exactly where we are, even if we’re not willing to surrender, even when we raise our stiff necks to Him.  When we clench our fists in anger, when we fight Him tooth and nail, and when we slip into the passively mundane.  Rebellion, defiance, complacence.  Because He brings us to the TRUTH eventually.  And eventually, hopefully, we are willing to hear it.

Oh, how good it feels when we finally let go of sin.  What new life is breathed into our time with Him. Such a sweet surrender when we trust Him at His WORD.  A little scary…a leap off of a mountain.  But as the air flows in our faces, we feel His freedom.  We feel ALIVE again, like a stream of water has touched the desert place of our hearts, where we may not have even realized how parched we were.  That living water is a humble place of repentance that only He can bring so directly, but also so lovingly.

I will become like a child.  I will humble myself like a child.  I will give myself the grace He wants to give me when I fall, but I will also be willing to stumble and fall and make sure that I do this the right way.  Not be prideful enough to think that I have my own methods to “cure” my sin.  Not be avoiding the road He has planned for me.  My father in heaven is the only one that can guide me down this road, pick me up and dust off my knees when I fall, and lead me to streams of living water.

1 comment:

  1. I needed this reminder, dear Krissy! Thank you my sweet daughter! xo mom