Thursday, December 10, 2009
Katdish, one of my new blog friends, guest-posted over on Peter Pollock's blog today, and I started to leave a comment that grew into a book, so I thought I'd post my thoughts on her post here, instead of filling their writing space with all my hot air.
I told my sister yesterday that one of the most incredible things I have gained in this last year of waiting for God is a deep understanding of my own need for a Savior. Every day.
When I began seeking Him, I wanted to do it "right," to understand and surrender to Him daily, constantly engaging and remembering the magnitude of what He'd done for me. But it got old. Really old.
You see, the Gospel has no value to you until you yourself have need of good news. It's not about doing right. It's about hope. It's about a Savior who came to clothe us in His own God-holy so that we are not destroyed.
You know how it goes, though. The more I tried to grow and change to be like Him, the less I saw of Him, the harder I fought against what I believed to be His will for me.
It wasn't until He brought an end to my own efforts to please Him - and still loved me! - that I saw what I had been doing. I realized I wasn't just lukewarm - I wasn't even ever burning for Him! My "passion" for Him was wrapped up in my own idea of right and righteous and holy - and from my own perspective, I was better than you all!
I tumbled off my own god-stool and hit the ground, HARD.
Once I realized I could not shape or drive my own passion, could not justify myself, could not sanctify myself, I found myself looking up at God, going, "now what?"
"Wait on the Lord," He said. "I will complete the work I have begun in you." There was a whole lotta "I love you" in there too. The kind of "I love you" that said, "I have shown you my love in this, that I sent My beloved Son into your flesh and let Him die your death."
It no longer works for me to write or think or approach anyone with the perspective that I am anything. I can't get around the incredible heart-aching daily understanding that I have absolutely nothing to offer God or anybody else if Jesus didn't live and die and arise. I have SUCH need. Sometimes it seems that all I am is need.
It is not remembering the cost that has changed me. It is the recognition of my own desperate need for redemption - and His loving desperation to redeem me. This everyday remembrance of grace both humbles and ignites.
I wrote once that real love means entering into the life of another, looking through his eyes, feeling with his heart, walking in his shoes, dying his death. This, Jesus did for me. This, I am only beginning to learn to do for Him.
At this point in my life, it's not the "cost of the purse" that makes the difference to me. It's how much I need the thing. That, and the fact that the need has been met.
I can't believe His incredible grace.
(Image © Informal Moments Photography)