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Sunday, January 10, 2010

2 Thessalonians 3:13

I'm thinking about important things.

I'm not sure what questions I ought to be asking. I'm not sure what changes I ought to be making. But I think it's time for moving.

I used to have a small collection of personal resolutions, rules for myself, almost mini-challenges. After some practice, implementing my mottos became effortless, and things like "always sit front and center" became habitual for me. So I stopped remembering. And in turn. I've stopped smiling at strangers when I go out. I've stopped talking to newcomers at church and classes. I've stopped engaging people, and in the process I mindlessly forgot love God, love people. A self-obsessed soul turned evermore inwards.

I think we wait sometimes, for a lightning bolt or an earth-shattering moment. We wait to get our brains scrambled by something amazing, after which event we will see everything clearly. And why shouldn't it work that way? But maybe, we forget the converse: why should it work that way? And by "we" I mean "me" . . .

I have been distant and I have been removed and I have neglected to be disciplined because I was muddled and confused and waiting. In waiting for absolution I forgot that my sins are erased. In waiting for clarity I forgot I knew the answer. I have grown tired, so weary of being faithful to the only thing that could give me joy. A love for people that is energizing and never exhausted.

My mom was remembering with me an old friend of our family, and problems that had befallen their family because of a mindset they had adopted. And I asked her, "If God is sovereign, why doesn't He just intervene and show them how wrong they were? God saved us from ourselves when He opened our eyes to salvation, why doesn't He save them from themselves now?" And she explained the truth in a way I had never considered before. How obedience is the root of sanctification, how it's not about lightning bolts and magic wands, but how God softens our hearts by showing us our black hearts and giving a life that has already been lived perfectly. How only our stubbornness and self-absorption make us tired and confused.

So now I'm remembering. That I'm whole. That I'm guiltless. That in Christ I have the power and ability to stop being lazy and not become weary of doing right. I'm remembering that it's not about me.

So may peace rain down from Heaven like little pieces of the sky, little keepers of the promise, falling on these souls this drought has dried.

3 comments:

Michael said...

Thanks for sharing this, Hayley. That's all.

Lala said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lala said...

Hayley...i feel the same exact way.