"Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper,
but the one who confesses and renounces them
finds mercy."
Proverbs 28:13
I'm intrigued by God's mercy, and I have it if I really want it. He's faithful to forgive through faith in the blood of Jesus, and His mercies are new every single day I awake (1 John 1:9, Lamentations 3:22-23). He is this wellspring of new life, new chances, new attitudes. God never runs out of this mercy upon which my existence depends (Ephesians 2:4-5). In fact, He so desires to continuously pour His goodness into me, but I don't always feel this spiritual flow of richness. Instead, I often feel devoid of any real love, unworthy, almost hopeless.
Why this desert living with the promise of such bounty? Because I easily block what God wants to give me.
Hide. It's hard for me to camp at a KOA campground. There, I've said it. I'd rather go to a state park where trees abound and there is plenty of space between campsites. It makes me uncomfortable to be so close to people I don't even know, to hear their conversations and wonder whether they may be listening to mine. I'd rather have the cover of distance and greenery to at least give me the illusion of privacy.
Whereas privacy while camping is not such a bad thing, taking on this same kind of attitude with God and those I love is destructive to my spiritual health. It breeds an ever-greater sense of mistrust as time goes on, and fear and doubt tend to grow in such an atmosphere. When I construct a barrier of defense to keep people and even God away, fearing their reaction when they see my struggles, weaknesses and faults, I'm also blocking the good things God wants to give me. I'm meant to live in community with God and others (Hebrews 10:24-25). When I resist such openness to His light, I am also resisting His desire to give me all of Him. When I am willing to receive, I can count on the fact that He is willing to give.
It's time for me to stop hiding behind the barriers I've constructed and start living as a child of light (1 Thessalonians 5:5, 1 John 1:7).
Facade. She is exhausted. She spends her days busily keeping up pretensions, carefully choosing her words so they sound pleasing to the ear, preparing for the activities she thinks are what God wants her to do, dressing and acting as she believes is proper for her position in God's kingdom. From the outside, it seems her faith is strong and her walk with Jesus is secure. Many look up to her as an inspiration to their own faith. Yet inside, she feels like she doesn't belong, as if she isn't good enough, and she us utterly tired of keeping up the facade she has so carefully constructed.
This is not the abundant life Jesus died to deliver to those who believe (John 10:10b). This sounds more like a nightmare out of a horror novel. Who can keep up this kind of pretense where the impression one leaves is what counts most? No one can, yet many of us try. When I create such a fake life, I'm failing to understand the freedom to live authentically that is mine in Christ (John 8:36). When He died to free me from sin, He meant all sin, even the pride that keeps me worrying about my reputation or thinking that to be loved I must be perfect, or that I can somehow earn my place as His child. No, Jesus loves me warts and all and it is by grace that I am saved. As He invites me into relationship with Him right where I am, so He is also the one who is in charge of the transformation process (Romans 12:2, Ephesians 4:23-24). I can't fake godliness, and trying to do so only serves as a barrier between Him and me, bringing to a halt the true renovation project He wants to continue in my heart (Philippians 1:6).
It's time for me to stop trying to be someone I'm not and begin discovering the woman God created me to be.
Pretend. "How are you doing after the death of your father?"
Without skipping a beat, the woman answered, "Fine, great! Things are going really well, ya, thanks for asking!" With that, she put on a brave face, smiling largely and began to try to convince everyone in the circle that all was well. Still, I wondered, was there not some grief or hurting in her heart? Surely everything can't be so rosy? I thought.
Sometimes it seems safer and easier to put on a brave front, pretending everything is okay rather than risking the emotional display that may come from honestly revealing my feelings for others to see. When I do so, I find my suffering to be quite a burden to carry on my own. I'm plagued by my feelings as they taunt me throughout the day, stealing my joy and keeping peace at bay. Instead of receiving the healing and comfort that God often brings to me through those that He's placed around me, I resist such benefits, preferring instead to go it alone (2 Corinthians 1:3-5). When I do, I suffer the consequences as I block His mercy from entering in and binding up my wounds, setting me free from the pain. It's almost like I'd rather be hurting than to let anyone else see what's going on inside. When I do take the risk, however, I open up the flow of mercy that brings about restoration that can only come through Jesus (Luke 4:18-20).
It's time for me to stop pretending everything is okay when I'm hurting so that I can find the wholeness that comes through Christ.
God is rich in mercy and He is eager to give me all that I need. Yet I often resist His generous nature, preferring instead to hide being barriers of defense I've constructed, or creating a facade based on who I think I should be, or pretending everything is okay when it's not. When I practice such foolishness, I fail to taste the goodness of God. If I really want to tap into God's mercy, I can let down the barriers, stop the charade and drop the pretentiousness and begin living as a wholly loved child of God through faith in Jesus Christ. What bounty I will then discover!
As I begin this day it is my prayer that I can trust God enough to live authentically before Him and others.
When am I afraid to let others in?
How do I live as I think I should instead of letting God change me into who He wants me to be?
No comments:
Post a Comment