Practical Love

A few Saturdays ago our Sunday School had a Yard Sale as a fundraiser for our church’s upcoming Mission Trip to the Dominican Republic. We were determined to minister in the midst of it and WOW did God do some awesome things! This led us to the next adventure with the Lord the following week. We were given the “homework assignment” to purposely show practical love and sacrifice in our life some way during the week and then report the following Sunday.

God did some amazing things in my life personally that week:

• He reminded me how He wants me to obey the best things He has purposed me to do and not just random noble things I could do for Him.


• He showed me that I don’t have to have it all figured out before I obey, I just have to take the step of obedience and He will provide the rest!


• The Lord is prepared to multiply what I sacrifice until the need I am sacrificing toward is met! Fishes and loaves anybody?
  

So we came together Sunday and shared in groups the ways we had sacrificed to express the love of Jesus that past week. The sound of people moving in harmony with God’s love was music to my soul. People shared the joys, fears, expectations they had experienced as they sought to share the practical love of Jesus.
But as each person tried to recount Holy Spirit inspired actions through mere human words, the Lord reminded me that He had already written the words through which each sacrifice could be explained: The gifts of the Spirit.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” Galatians 5:22

I often think about these fruits as things I desire for the Holy Spirit to give and raise up in me. They are virtues that the Lord desires for me to allow the Holy Spirit to sculpt into my character as a Believer. But I have allowed my self-centeredness stop me right there, when there is so much more!
It is not a gift simply to be given to me so that I can proudly display it on the shelf of my pretty Christian life. I am the tree that God wants to cultivate to produce His fruit. He wants me to bear this fruit so that it can nourish the lives of others for the glory of His kingdom to be realized here on this earth!

Too many times, I am wrapped up in being a fruit eater and not a fruit producer.
Too many times I am wrapped up in what the Holy Spirit can give me, not what I can give through Him.

So when was the last time you nourished someone with the fruit of love that the Lord has produced in your life?

• When was the last time someone tasted the sweetness of joy because of Christ in you?


• Have you not just experienced peace but actually given it today?


• Have you shown patience to one who needs it, deserved or not?


• Have you offered the simplicity of kindness?


• When did you last allow God’s goodness to be tangibly expressed through you?


• Have you been the hands and feet of God’s faithfulness, rather than just the mouthpiece?


• Have you embraced others with His gentleness?


• Have you harnessed your energy for God and directed it toward doing His will?

“Against such things there is no law.”
That means there is FREEDOM in it.
The world will tell you that this type of giving is too high risk! But it is the selfishness and self-centered attitudes that will incarcerate you.
The walls of the prison are built with the blocks of apathy, piety, religious hypocrisy, complacency, comfort, and self preservation.
Drawing close to the Lord is the only way our lives can produce this life giving fruit. Remaining in that place of true intimacy is the only way we will ever have His heartbeat to give, to reach out, to love, to nourish with what He has so generously, so graciously given to us.

“Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop-on a light stand-shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16

Practice. Love. Simple as that.

My Deliverer

Today I went to THE doctor.
You know, the one when you tell people that you went they they go "Ohhhh".
Yes I went to the doctor that also happens to be the one who delivered my children. My kids wondered when I picked them up from school why I was dressed up and it was not even a Sunday.
Sad, I know.

Questioned once again about my outfit choice for the day- as if they were shocked I actually DID something while they were at school-I figured I would spur conversation with my answer...so I told them that I saw the doctor that delivered them-the doctor that helped bring them into the world.
Not sure what reaction I was expecting-maybe the opportunity to tell them their birth story or something. But then came reality...
They were completely unimpressed.
Although I did get a polite, "Oh really?" from Jonathan which turned into short lived interest as he then began reciting the word "deliver" in different ways, as only an 8 year old comedian can do.

Realizing the conversation had been lost, I traveled into my own thoughts, taking with me the word "deliver", where-as often happens in this crazy brain of mine-a song was triggered: "My Deliverer" by Chris Tomlin.

As the song played on a round in my head, I began to think about what that word "deliver" really meant.

When I was talking to the kids about the doctor as their deliverer, the one who delivered them, I thought about how he brought them into the world. The focus was not on what he delivered them from, but what he delivered them into: fullness of life.

But then I realized that when I think about the Lord as my Deliverer, I have the opposite tendency. I tend to think about what He delivered me from, never fully focusing on what He has delivered me into.

I think as Believers, we often get stuck in thinking about what we have been delivered from and forget to actually live in the place that He has delivered us to.

This isn't a new problem.

Remember the grumblings of the Israelites after being delivered out of slavery in Egypt? I am sure at first they simply talked about how horrible it had been in the place God had brought them out of, but after dwelling on it too long, they were actually wishing they could go back! And no, the conditions of where they were may not have been wonderful, but come on! They were living under the favor and covering of the One True God! They were delayed from moving into a greater place of communion with and provision from the Lord, not because God hadn't made it available, but because they only had eyes to see what the Lord had delivered them from and not the place of new life and growth that He had moved them into.

"But it was because the Lord loved you...that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery...know therefore that the Lord your God is God; He is the faithful God , keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments."Deuteronomy 7:8-9

Praise God! He has delivered us from death! But that is only the beginning! What He has delivered us INTO is a fullness of life, an abundance of grace, an unfailing love, an unequalled power that can only come from the One True Deliverer.

What would happen if our lives were the fragrance of what Jesus Christ has delivered us into, rather than the stench of what He delivered us from?
What if we stopped considering ourselves first and foremost as former slaves, and actually saw ourselves as redeemed children of God, with full access to the priceless inheritance made available to us through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ?

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ! In His great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade..."(1 Peter 1:3-4)

We need to live and grow as sons and daughters of God rather than babies who wish they could go back to a place where, although predictable and familiar and seemingly safe, was a place where the touch of the Father could never be felt!
When a baby is delivered, it isn't born knowing how to function fully and completely in this place it has been delivered into, and neither are we as Believers.
We have to learn how to glean nourishment from God's Word, how to drink in His presence, how to walk in His ways, how to speak His wisdom.
But every step and stumble of the way is worth it all! What was left behind in delivery could never compare to what we have been so graciously delivered into.

"...the blood of Christ cleans up our whole lives inside and out. Through the Spirit, Christ offered himself as an unblemished sacrifice, freeing us from all those dead end efforts to make ourselves respectable, so that we can live all out for God!"(Hebrews 9:13-14 The Message)

Don't reduce your Deliverer to One who only brought you out of death...glorify Him as the One who has also delivered you into teh abundance of life in Him!
"...I have come that may have life and have it to the full." (John 10:10)

God's Left Hook

I can finally chew my Trident gum again...

Short of dental work, orthodontics, or some weird diet, I realize that statement may sound rather strange. So let me back up a week and a half, to a couple of days after I had bought a value pack of Trident and to the last time I had gum in my mouth, and I will fill you in on the story- since it HAS been so long since I have written, Kim.

Anyway, it was a normal Thursday night at home with the hubby still gone doing ministry work when I got a call to help out the church’s women’s softball team. They didn’t have enough players and were going to have to forfeit. I love to play, but as of late, my schedule had not allowed me to, so, at the last minute, I decided I would go. My kids were thrilled and as soon as we got there they headed off on their own adventures while I headed for the field…first base.
Softball is nothing new to me by any means. I have played since I was little and was in effect my daddy’s little boy. This is not to say I am outstanding at the game, but I do have solid fundamentals and a driving intensity. As for playing first, I am tall, limber, unafraid of a hard or crazily thrown ball and a pretty accurate catch, so it’s a good place for me to be. My second inning in the field seemed as though it would be like any other. I was checking the outs, the runners on base, aware of my own and other players positioning, as our pitcher threw the pitch that changed my night.
It wasn’t a line drive, it wasn’t even a fair ball. It was a high hit foul, easily catchable, by my calculations and past experience, by any first baseman. So I headed off in a dead sprint to make the easy out…

..…doing good, eye on ball, glove in air, other hand prepared to help trap ball…but then I had a thought….
”Where is the fence that I know is in this direction that I remember is broken and had a pole sticking out and oh my goodness! I remember when Jarrett didn’t pay attention to where the fence was and he ended up getting stitches right between the eyes, so I better glance, as I am in this sprint toward the ever looming fence, to see where it is so I don’t…BAM!(I slammed my fingers on the keyboard really hard when I typed that!)

Yes, BAM! TY-YOW! POP! POW! Any of that onomatopoeia would suffice to explain the split second it took for that not-so-softball to miss my glove and plummet into my chin/jaw.


It rather stunned me, I have to say. I remember thinking, “What just happened? DID that really just happen?” I had never moved my head from the direction of the ball, with my face and chin remaining up in the air to see the ball and make the catch. I had, however, slightly and quickly glanced to my left, and that was all it took for the ball to find a landing pad on my face rather than in my glove.

After impact, I took my glove off and thanks to Jesus, sat down calmly on the ground. I couldn’t really feel my jaw at the time so I reached up to try to see if my teeth were still there, and assess the damage. ALL my teeth were in place, praise the Lord!
But I was bleeding from a gash inside my mouth and had to spit out the blood over and over. This plus gum in the mouth is NOT a pleasant combo. So as everyone was huddled around, I spit out my small white piece of Trident gum. This elicited a rather overwhelming guttural response from onlookers who thought I had just spit out a tooth! Even through the pain, that was funny- and no- NOT intentional! (Thanks, Ashley, for being willing to pick it up had it actually been my tooth!)

And that my friends, was the last time I had gum in mouth until today.
Chew, chew, chew.

Oh since that night there have been many other “milestones”: not having to sleep with ice on my face, not drooling when I drink something, not having to sleep with cotton wedged in my gums, not having people stare at me like Jarrett took a swing, not having someone tell me I have something on my face, not having to cut all my food in little bitty pieces…and all these things came into my life because I had a split second thought that took my eye off of the ball.

I have thought about that moment so much over the past week and a half. What I did, what I should have done, what I could have done differently. You know, the sad thing is, the ball wasn’t even in play. It was a foul ball. I could have let it go, but I didn’t because I wanted to make the easy out. I chose to go after it, then I got distracted by what may or may not have been close enough by to cause a problem.

I all too often play out this same “game” scenario in my spiritual life. I go after good things, but not the best things, determined to make the easy play, then I get distracted. I take my eye off the ball. And the next thing you know…BAM! At least if I had been looking at the ball and missed it, I could have shielded myself from the impact. But I was looking at the distraction.

Matthew 7:13-14(The Message) says, “Don’t look for shortcuts to God…the way to life-to God!-is vigorous and requires total attention.”

I had taken a smidgen of my attention and placed it in the wrong place and the result was a painful wake up call.

There are so many distractions in my life, some of which are my welled intended pursuits and well thought out precautionary measures. Despite having a good basis in the fundamentals, I go after the wrong things, play it too safe, and or just don’t pay attention at all! The problem is simply this: I take my eye off of Jesus and His purposes for my life. The plays he asks me to be a part of are “vigorous”. The things of the Spirit I am to run after “require total attention”.

He reminds me in Isaiah 66:2 , “But there is something I’m looking for: a person simple and plain, reverently responsive to what I say.”

He simply wants my focus and my obedience.
Nothing good comes from entertaining deadly distractions.
LIFE comes from setting your heart and mind on Jesus.

Believe me, my chin and my gum deprived mouth know all about it.

“These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundational words to build a life on.”
Matthew 7:24

Father, give me the courage and strength to make YOU the center of my attention in a world that throws distractions at my face at every turn! Empower me to do what you require in Matthew 7:21- “serious obedience-doing the will of my Father.” I don’t want to be guilty of adding you to my life like some impressive decoration. I want to be obsessed with You and the things of Your Spirit so that the glory is Yours and Yours alone. Help me keep my eyes, my heart, my spirit, my life, my words, my everything focused on You! Amen.

“For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things.
To Him be the glory forever! Amen.”
Romans 11:36

Mother's Day with my black and blue chin!

Looked more like Father's day with my 5 o'clock shadow!

One Foot In Front of the Other

So...many of you may or may not know that as of about a month ago I began a journey. It all began as trip with a planned destination, filled with fanciful mental images of what it will be like when I one day arrive at said destination. But then I realized that this "glowing journey" is more like a grunt of a road trip down the back dirt roads in a convertible.

Yes, such would describe the "journey" I began in order to break through my weight loss plateau- ok who am I kidding- gain, and sculpt my body into something that it is bound and determined not to be after 3 pregnancies and years of lethargy.

Over the years, I have Tae-Boed, Power 90ed, Karated, Slim in Sixed, Booty Camped, Turbo-Jammed my body and yet I still have thighs that one of which is the size of most teenage girls' waists and a stomach that defines the phrase "this is how I roll." And yes, I can still hear my underarm flab slap up against my sides when I make sudden movements. Eww. Yes, I know.

That was when I didn't know Jack.

No seriously...Jack is the name of my trainer, now. And my fat is his sworn enemy...and I am so not kidding. Oddly enough, I am thankful for that- even though his inventions of torture have brought me to my knees before the porcelin god(once, ok once!)

Quitting is not an option with Jack. Pausing momentarliy, maybe, quitting- no. He quietly, yet firmly and confidently tells me where to start, where to finish each round, each set and tells me I can even when all of me is screaming "NO! FAT GIRL CANNOT!" And he even pretends not to be scared as I walk about with hair distrewn, red-faced, sweat pouring, mascara smeared from one ear to the other. He tolerates my hollering through that last set, quoting verses through that last round on the bag, and all the other crazy stuff I do. He just says, "Awesome!" And I believe him. Why? Because I know he has the knowledge I need. He's got the map. He is the GPS for my road trip to my body destination of heatth and fitness. He doesn't want me to quit the trip because he knows that the destination exists and I will be better and stronger for traveling there.

From where I stand right now, it really does seem improbable, yes, even impossible that what I see in the mirror could ever be even remotely close to arriving at that fanciful destination in my head. There are days when I have felt like I know I made the right turn, I know that I am traveling down the right road, but things just don't look the way I thought they would and I am confused and tired and frustrated. The road is rough, the car is sputtering, blubbering on its way.

I even stop and ponder turning around and heading home.

But then I remember I want to see this place I have never been before-I mean there have been times I thought I was there, but really, I had not taken a valid journey, I had not experienced the road trip. I tried short cuts that were quicker but that left me weak, weary and scarred...I had arrived at a mirage in the desert. I was not smarter, I was not stronger, I was not trained.

Smarter. Stronger. Experienced. Envigorated. Empowered. TRAINED.

Spiritual sculpting, spiritual growth is a lot like that.

The journey isn't separate from the arrival, the journey is the beginning of the arrival!(wow- I just re-read that...You go Holy Spirit!)

I have had many ideas about how to try to get where I know I need to go in my relationship with God, but I don't have the map. I have Beth Moored, Stormie O'Martianed, Women of Faithed, Through the Bible in a Yeared, Church Programmed, Church Attended, my spirit and yet, still had a flabby core. I didn't go to the One first who knew the exact road map that would bring about a fresh growth in my spirit, the GPS that would draw me closer to the Father.
He quietly and confidently tells me where to start and finish each day...tells me I can even when my spirit cries out, "No! No! No! I cannot!"
He tolerates my distrewn life, my red faced frustration, my sweat and tears pouring, the mess of my life smeared from one place to another.
He just says, "Awesome! Bring it all."
And I believe Him.
Why?
Matthew 11:30 (The Message)
28-30"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

No more short cuts. I want to EXPERIENCE the journey with my Lord. I want to be trained, no matter what I look like right now...all that matters is I choose to begin the journey...because that's the first step toward arrival.

SO...I guess I have begun to arrive at a skinnier, more sculpted, but most importantly healthier self. At least the vague definition in my biceps and shoulders are telling me so...along with the soreness in my hamstrings.

As for my spirit, definitely could use a weight gain there- always- and praying that the fat chubby flesh is starved a little more every day.
"He must increase, I must decrease." John 3:30.
Good motto for body and spirit, I say.

I know for sure the Holy Spirit's got my back...and now...as for the physical part...
...well, now I know Jack.

The Most

Having a parent that travels a good bit can be disheartening for a kid, but, as some of you may know from first hand experience, it can also have its perks. For instance, when my dad went to the Southern Baptist convention in Texas when I was 8, I ended up getting my ears pierced 5 years earlier than my sister because I was so "distraught" over his leaving(insert evil, manipulative laugh here....sorry Shay.) Though no where near as fantastic as my earring victory, yet still excitedly received, "surprises" from parental travel are one of those things kids just love, and I suppose, to some degree, help them get through that time of physical separation. As a parent myself, I now realize what a true delight it is to choose and give these prizes to my little ones.

While Jarrett and I were recently at a Youth Minister's conference, I called on a lunch break to check on the kids and also to get a hint of what type of prize they might would like. I happened to call as my mom was getting the kids out of school early, so they were in the school office going through dismissal procedures. My oldest, Alex(now 10!), was handed the phone first and I asked him if he would like for me to bring him a surprise. The reply was of course, yes, but, realizing that he was in the office with others' ears available to hear, he was aloof and rather unengaged in the rest of the conversation. I asked him what specifically he would like, such as a stuffed animal? a football? He responded only with a "Yes, yes, uh-huh, ok" and a few unspoken "whatever, Mama" 's. Needless to say, he was none too slow in handing the phone off to Jonathan.
After our hellos, I asked Jonathan the same question, "Do you want Mama to bring you a surprise?" His response was a genuine gasp and ,"Really? Yes!" I proceeded to ask him what exactly did he think he might want, but only got, "Ummmm..." after asking several times. I probed a final time for an answer waiting anxiously to hear in the noisy mall standing near Chic-Fil-A, cell phone to one ear, with the other ear plugged, "Jonathan, what do you think you might like for Mama to bring you?"

"Well", he stretched out, "You, the most."

My heart flipped, danced and jumped in my throat all at once as I stuttered through welling tears to make sure I had heard correctly, "Wha-what did you say buddy?"
"You, the most, Mama." he replied.

I am crying even now as I write this, yes because of the precious gift of a "Mama Moment" that Jonathan gave me, but more than that, because I caught a glimpse into my Father's heart.
The Holy Spirit whispered instantly into my spirit that day and said, "That's it. THAT is what I want to hear my children say more than anything else: I want You the MOST, Daddy. I love to give you gifts, pour out my blessings- I made you to want those things, I am the Creator of desire. So go ahead and have hopes and dreams and wants...but just want ME the MOST."

A statement by a 7 year old little boy had not only taken me to my knees as a Mama, but also to my knees as a child of God.

I realize that there is so much more to the Giver than any gift, any provision I could ever want from Him. So I just want to live my life wanting Him first, wanting Him most- no matter who is listening, no matter who is watching- I am going to tell Him as loud as I can with my voice, with my life, as many times as He wants to hear it, "Daddy, I want YOU the MOST!"

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And this is what we are!"

1 John 3:1

The Ultimate Boo-Boo Kisser

Today I am physically hurting and emotionally drained from thinking about the fact that I am in pain, want it to be gone, and that it is keeping me from doing all that needs to be done. The physical pain paves the way for the guilt to drive right in for the emotional blow.

ugh.
ok... deep breath.

I have ulcerative colitis, which put me in the hospital almost exactly a year ago, but I have been fairly "flare up" free since then. Over the past few days however I have been dealing with the pain again. Fun.

As my mama reminded me this morning, it's true I have a tendency to pull away when I am experienceing any type of pain. I kind of go inside myself. I mean, it is MY pain, so I think I should be the one to have to deal with it- not everybody else. And it is easier for me to deal with it without everybody watching, you know?

I just don't like that kind of attention- the pity, I suppose. I guess part of me want others to simply acknowledge that they understand I am in pain, but I then have a hard time allowing anyone to help me through it.


For example....

When I was a little girl I would often keep my boo-boos to myself. I would go hide, or go to my mom in secret about whatever had happened.


As Mama reminded me today, "When you hurt, you hide."


And sometimes I hide right out in the open.


This one time in particular, when I was in the second grade(7 years old), I hurt my finger(I can't remember exactly what I did, but it was definitely finger related).

My mama did the mama thing and expressed her sympathy for my boo-boo, and knowing how I felt about her overreacting to my pain, went about things as if nothing had happened.

But this time, apparently, I needed more.

Thinking back to the situation, Mama said, "That time you finally decided you'd had enough of the pain, but you didn't know how to tell me."


I wanted to come out of hiding but wasn't sure how to do it.


So, I wrote her a letter.
She kept the letter...

Outside of the envelope(yes, I put it in an envelope):
To mama
From Julie.
Don't let anyone else see this.


The note:
Dear Mama,
My finger has been hurting all day. I wish you would take me to the doctor.
It hurts badly.
Sometimes you know I'm kidding, but this time I'm not.
I mean it. When I touch it, it hurts.
Please!!!!!!!!!!(big fat colored in exclamation points)
Love, Julie P.
(good thing I put the "P", right? or she might've gotten me confused with that other Julie hangin' around! Knowing my mama, anything is possible, though...)
P.S.
Don't say anything to me about this unless you take me.



I remember writing that letter.
I remember distinctly my heart beating fast when I left it for Mama to find it.
I remember thinking that I wasn't sure what to say the next time I saw her, knowing she had read it...

...but I don't ever remember wondering if she would act on my behalf.

I knew she would do what was best for me- doctor or no doctor-whatever needed to be done to comfort me in my pain, to bring healing to the hurt, I knew she would do that...even if I didn't know exactly what that would look like or mean for me.
I just trusted.

That is who she was.
That is who she is.
That is who my Jesus is.


But I had to go to her. She knew my pain, she knew I was hurting.
But I had to ALLOW her to help me.
I had to willingly receive what she had to give...
...even if it meant me being a little uncomfortable.
...even if I did not understand the process.


I remember the relief when she came to me and said, "Julie, let's take a look at your finger. I don't think I saw it closely enough earlier..."
She never brought shame to the situation for my hiding, she never laughed at my fear of admitting I couldn't do it on my own.

She simply spoke to my need.

And that is what Jesus wants to do...speak to my need...to your need.
But we have to stop hiding right out in the open.

Trusting Him is not being weak, it is knowing where to find the purest strength.
"Therefore, do not lose heart.
Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day."
2 Corinthians 4:16

Your Heavenly Father can bring victory over the source of your pain, even in the middle of the hurt...if we stop hiding.
It's time to cry out "PLEASE!!!!!"- big fat exclamation marks and all!
Instead of drawing into myself, I need to draw near to Him...
...the Ultimate Boo-boo Kisser.

"But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord.

I wait for God my Savior;

My God will hear me."

Micah 7:7

P.S.
Don't say anything to me about this..........................................................just kidding!
Really. I'm over that......ok, ok........well mostly, anyway. ;)

Calling All Perfectionist Control Freaks

At the risk of sounding like Captain Obvious…it’s been a long time since I have blogged.
Not because I haven’t written, mind you, but simply because I have not posted the many things I have written. You see, I have a format in the nice, neat little world of my mind that I like to follow when writing my devotions or blogs and I put a lot of pressure on myself to adhere to that standard. There are times I lie in bed and write in my mind…I even go back and make corrections on the rough draft in my head until it’s just like I want it.
But I have come to realize that sometimes, God just wants me to write my insides out.
He doesn’t care how pretty it does or doesn’t look or whether it looks like the last thing He asked me to write or not….He simply desires for me to say YES to what He is asking me to do. To genuinely pour out what He pours in.
For all you other control freaks out there…you know what I am talking about.
We want to have everything labeled, sorted, grouped, filed away before we get before God or take an issue to Him. We even like to take in a typed, double spaced report of our well meaning attempts to rectify the situation at hand. We work ourselves to the bone to “handle” it all so that we don’t have to bother God with it in the first place.
The problem is that this desire for perfection ends up weeding God out of it all because we are so busy trying to achieve that perfection BEFORE we willingly and wholly place ourselves in His presence.
Here’s the irony: achieving anything even close to perfection outside of His presence and power is IMPOSSIBLE…so the reality is, we’re just setting ourselves up for further failure- the very thing we are killing ourselves to try to avoid!
Romans 5:8 says, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners Christ died for us.”
Still sinners…STILL SINNERS. He loved me BEFORE I even knew how to love Him. He loved me BEFORE I even knew I needed to love Him. He loved me BEFORE. Before I was cleaned up at all…He loved me in my mess in order to make a way for me to receive- not achieve- His perfection, His righteousness, His holiness.
“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.”(Romans 5:6)
His free grace is yours and mine in spite of who we are. He sees us and knows us fully…imperfections and all. He isn’t afraid to look at your junk. He saw it in its fullness and STILL sent His Son to die on the cross in spite of it!
Focusing on how to fix what is wrong, rather than on the only ONE who can make it right, is paralyzing. Trying to do it in our own power is doing it with no TRUE power at all…and that is certainly destined for failure. We "were powerless", not "are powerless" according to verse six. We can have the perfecting power of the Holy Spirit right NOW...completely available to us when we make ourselves completley available.
Go ahead, face your junk…surrender.
Control’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Perfection is an elusive ideal.
And Jesus…well, He even loves and sees hope for the weirdo that writes herself to sleep and uses the backspace key over and over again in her head.