Sunday Morning Thinkings

Posted on | January 31, 2010 | 2 Comments

Here’s the truth: Sometimes, I have doubts. I question. Sometimes it seems so miraculously impossible.

I want to love Him so totally, but often I fail. What if I get to heaven and He says that I never knew Him?

But then I think: does the fact that I wonder about these things—that I question whether or not I am living fully for him—mean that I AM. If I didn’t wonder, if I never doubted, if I never prayed for Him to help me believe, if I rested totally in myself, well. Maybe that would show that I think that I don’t need a Savior.

But I need one. I need Him. Desperately.

Having been like the lost son in the parable of the prodigal son, I never stopped to think that maybe I just moved from being one lost son to the other. I always took comfort in that parable; that when I came home—even after squandering all that he had given me —He RAN to me. He wrapped me in His robe and killed the fatted calf and celebrated my return. And for me that is where that parable ended. It was a story of God’s extravagant grace; his celebration over sinful, spoiled children who return to him, expecting punishment but getting grace.

But in his book The Prodigal God, Tim Keller unpacks that parable and points out—though it should’ve been obvious–that it’s a story of TWO lost sons. And that it ends unfinished, as Jesus’ intended audience were the pharisees, the religious ones, who were represented by the elder son. The son who resented his father’s lavish welcome on the younger son. Who said, “I have never left you. I followed all of your rules. Where is MY party? Where is MY fatted calf?” And the lingering question is —does the elder son love his father for his father or does he love his father for his STUFF?

And what if now I’ve simply become the elder brother—taking comfort in my religion and “goodness” as enough to procure me a place in heaven? Am I loving God for HIM or am I loving him for his stuff?

One of the greatest tragedies of modern religion, I believe, is that it has somehow turned into a “How Good Can I Be?” competition. Well, I don’t know about you, but I am not good at ALL. Let there be no mistake —and in case I fooled you let me set the record straight—I know my heart, and it is wicked. I struggle with anger, depression, envy and gossip. (To name a few.) You don’t have to be on the Internet long to know that its wheels are greased by whispers and schadenfreude. And oh, how often it tempts me.

The Bible says that when we place our faith in Christ that the Holy Spirit comes to live inside us. That God takes up residence in our mortal flesh. Paul writes in Romans that it is a constant battle between that spirit and the flesh. He writes — why do I NOT do what I want to do and do what I do not want to do?

For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. Romans 7:14-20

I want to be a faithful, kind wife. I want to relinquish my futile hold on my life. I want to suffer well. But more often than not I am that quarrelsome, complaining wife that Proverbs warns against. More often that not I try to take control of where my life is headed. More often than I would like, I wonder, “why me?”

I read an AP article this morning about Pastor Matt Chandler and he said he wished he could say that he never questioned “why me?” but that there was a moment where he saw a Christmas card with a picture of husband who is a chronic adulterer and thought “why not that guy?”

One of my favorite local bloggers (who is way more famous than my description of “local” gives her credit) is Jennifer McKinney, who writes My Charming Kids. A few weeks ago, in the space of a day, she announced that she is traveling to Kenya with Compassion Bloggers and that they are expecting their fifth child. Well, I wish I could tell you that my initial reaction was “How awesome for her!” But my initial reaction was envy, something I confessed both to her and to my husband. Why not me? I wondered. Why should God bless one of his children so lavishly and withhold blessing from another?

Why do we do what we don’t want to do and not do what it is that we want to do?

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. Romans 7: 24-25

So my only hope, my only chance, is to give it all to a savior. I need Him. And I hope that is enough. I pray that is enough. I pray that someday when I see Him that I will be able to fall into His arms; that He won’t turn His face from me and say that though I cried “Lord, Lord,” that I never knew Him (Matthew 7:21-23).

I thought a lot about what I wanted to post here before I went to the hospital for surgery. What I would want to be the last thing I said to you, if it were to the be the Last Thing I ever said; ever wrote; ever shared.

And that was it. And that is all. Jesus Jesus Jesus. Rescue me. Heal me. Help me with my disbelief. Give me a mind and your spirit to do what it is that I want to do; not do what I hate.

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