chagrin

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

"I am heartily ashamed of myself, Lizzy. But don't despair; it'll pass, and no doubt more quickly than it should."

- Mr. Bennett, Pride and Prejudice, produced by A&E, 1995

And there are days when I am not so spiritual as I want to be. When I am not so high above the rest of humanity as I should like. When humbling myself to ask mercy is annoying and towering rage is preferable to a tender heart. And it is "oh no, why are we here again?" because I had so much going for me to impress the rest of the world. Such wisdom. Such a deep spiritual message. Such appeal.

And God always knows. He even lets me try out my pedestal for a little while. I like the view from there. It gets lonely, actually. And sometimes judgmental.

His rebuke isn't harsh. It doesn't have to be. He reminds me that I am dust. I like to add water sometimes, try to sculpt me the way I'd like to be. I think His work might be better, but the waiting...

It's not a hopeless fall, this tumble downhill into His arms. But I don't want to be touched. Accept His love? Now? After that? I avoid His gaze. I wanted to do better. To be better than I am. I didn't see. Why didn't I see?

Was I looking at Him?

Or making me?

Thus my heart was grieved, and I was vexed in my mind. I was so foolish and ignorant; I was like a beast before You. (Ps. 73:21-22)

So much truth I know. I want the pretty, the uplifting, the poetic, the impressive. But I am the weak and the fool, all rolled into dust that He remembers, and I tell my sins to you and sigh and roll my eyes wishing I was more and He reminds,

Nevertheless I am continually with You; You hold me by my right hand. You will guide me with Your counsel, and afterward receive me to glory. (Ps. 73:23-24)

Glory not my own.

So I find quiet again, waiting in His love, watching this dust slip through my ten fingers into wise and ageless hands.

Maybe I won't forget this time. Maybe I will.

I know He remembers.
O LORD, You have searched me and known me. You know my sitting down and my rising up; You understand my thought afar off. You comprehend my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word on my tongue, but behold, O LORD, You know it altogether. You have hedged me behind and before, and laid Your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain it.


- Psalm 139:1-6
(image from sxc)

10 comments:

Catherine said...

Yes...He always knows, exactly what we need...Him!
Blessings,
Catherine :)

shepherdsgrace said...

the struggle we will all face to we see Him face to face...

what sweet mercy He loves us with...

it is unfathomable...

Searching for God in the everyday said...

This is beautiful and convicting. What an amazing visual. Thank you for sharing your heart and thoughts.

beautyinallthings said...

So beautiful. You touched me. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't let me get up on my pedestal so often.
Cherry Blossom

Denise said...

Very powerful.

Maria said...

I enjoyed your writing... it expresses, in a conversation, what many feel. I smiled when you quoted from Pride and Prejudice.
This is a familiar attitude for me also:
"He just reminds me that I am dust. I like to add water sometimes, try to sculpt me the way I'd like to be."
Grateful for having stopped by,
Maria

Deidra said...

"He even lets me try out my pedestal for a little while." So true. He doesn't force His own way on us. Instead He allows us to come to the end of ourselves and find His way on our own.

This was lovely. Thanks for the blessing.

Sarah Dawn said...

Delighted to meet you. Your pictures, Your words, His heart splashed me today. I'm going to come back and read a bit more.

Keep writing, the world is reading.

Blessings from Costa Rica,
Sarah Dawn

Jo@Mylestones said...

"It's not a hopeless fall, this tumble downhill into His arms. But I don't want to be touched. Accept His love? Now? After that?"
Even in my visceral failing, I still cling to a bit of pride. I don't want to be touched--to accept grace and admit I'm just as rotten as the rest, and likely more.
Thanks for this honest piece. I was encouraged as I identified with your beautifully written words.

Ann Voskamp @Holy Experience said...

"Was I looking at Him?

Or making me?"

My... you write it.

Now... for me to live it.

Thank you....

All's grace,
Ann

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