Saturday, May 16, 2015

March 13, 2013 Who is this?

Who do you say Jesus is? Paul said "You are the Christ." Who do I say he is? So often I say yes, you are the Christ. But do I believe that? Really? Then why does it hurt so much when things do not go our way? Those idols make a liar out of me. Why did it hurt so badly when I could not gain acceptance into a Christian homeschool group - why am I so unacceptable, simply because my husband is not a believer? Why did it squeeze my heart so much when I found that wet clay has mold in it so I cannot have a pottery studio anymore? Why did I cry when I found that my cool spiky hairdo will have to go - that the chemicals in hairspray are just a bit too much? Why do I act so surprised when I try to garden and I get ill for a week? Why do I lose patience with living like a refugee? Why do I wish the weather would change so we can begin building our new home? Why do I rail against this stuff? I mean really. I've given up so much at this point, SURELY giving up a bit more should not hurt. So why do I complain? I know why. Because there is more of me that I must die to. There is more that I have not given up. It is humiliating at times to realize that if I really thought that God knows best in all circumstances, if I really truly believe that Jesus is the Christ, then I would accept these things and move on. People have said to me, "No, you have plenty of reason to complain! Don't feel bad about it!" But they are wrong. I have no right to complain. None whatsoever. I am not my own.

But I am human. I am one of the reasons why Christ had to die on the cross. And He knows I am not perfect. Sanctification is a process, not an endpoint. So I will accept the fact that I will have hard times. I will look for more idols and work my way through what God shows me. I will find a new hairstyle, live my life without those support groups, find a different hobby, be more careful with exertion, remember that my body is broken and frail right now. I will forgive myself for my faults and go make dinner. I will cry, but I will wipe those tears away and sweep the floor. I will go walk the dogs and be happy that I can. I will defrost some chicken and be thankful that I have a stove to cook on. I will sit in the sun and heal. I will keep reading my Bible, keep looking at that Savior who is beautiful enough to replace anything else that I might think that I want.

And tomorrow, I will do it all again.

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