I am the most messed up person I know. Dysfunctional is too mechanical a word. I manage to function with veneer’s and good moods and cognitive insights. I like to pretend that I know what it means to be serve the Lord, to abandon myself to His spirit, to know my God and understand the beat of His heart. But it’s mostly just pretending.
I am so tenaciously defensive that I’m incapable of loving; so chock full of fear that I never try; and so wrapped in my self-made identity that the mere mention of a skirt gives me a complex. So confused in my identity that moods toss me any direction the wind happens to blow.
So frail that I barely crawl to God in prayer; so warped that I read the Bible thinking of analytical applications to the general christian life instead of the fortress within. So distorted that every expectation or encouragement for success is kicked in the shin like an unwelcomed burglar. How dare a standard be erected? How dare a light to illumine my weakness exist? Destroy in the name of self-preservation. I hide in the closet giggling as if it’s funny when God searches unrelentlessly to know me.
Who is this King of Glory? In my desperateness to know, I find that my biggest enemy is the thing I love and hate the most: myself.
I am so tenaciously defensive that I’m incapable of loving; so chock full of fear that I never try; and so wrapped in my self-made identity that the mere mention of a skirt gives me a complex. So confused in my identity that moods toss me any direction the wind happens to blow.
So frail that I barely crawl to God in prayer; so warped that I read the Bible thinking of analytical applications to the general christian life instead of the fortress within. So distorted that every expectation or encouragement for success is kicked in the shin like an unwelcomed burglar. How dare a standard be erected? How dare a light to illumine my weakness exist? Destroy in the name of self-preservation. I hide in the closet giggling as if it’s funny when God searches unrelentlessly to know me.
Who is this King of Glory? In my desperateness to know, I find that my biggest enemy is the thing I love and hate the most: myself.
1 comment:
So true, but so sad, "I have met the enemy, and he is us," as immortalized by the great philosopher Pogo. Or, Lit sang, "It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy."
How wonderful it is, as Paul said, "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." And in Philippians, "I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ."
Christ knows we are broken, and he loves us anyway. He is the one who has undertaken to fix us, and he has already done the hardest part. He has begun fixing us, and he is fixing to fix us.
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