I am afraid that I will never really love God and experience him as intended. That I will never learn how to live by grace through faith. That my motives will always be selfish and impure. That my life will never matter. The eternal struggle with impossibly simple answers. The constant tension of the life of a believer. Tension that currently has no resolve.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
what's in my pocket
Paul was one tormented guy. Always doing what he didn't want to do and not doing the things he wanted to do. The things he didn't want to do bringing harm, and the things he did want to do bringing true satisfaction. If it weren't for Paul, I would habitually think myself a manic depressive. Three cheers for the chief of sinners.
My life looks drastically different than it did three years ago. Where I once was a Bible study leading, foreign missions doing, scripture reading do-gooder, now I am a once a week church goer and backslidden, sorry excuse for a believer. It's been a miserable road, and I have picked up a rabid pack of pet sins along the way. Currently, the words of Paul are ringing louder than ever in my deafened ears, and it is messy and uncomfortable and awkward. I am in a Bible study with several women from church - a much needed ointment for a parched soul. Really looking at the Word for the first time in three years has been making me squirm. An effort to wriggle free of the inevitable hold it has on my heart. Those little sins that I like to keep in my pocket are being exposed and they are not as snuggly or as small as I imagined. They're rather monstrous and disgusting, actually. Somehow I still want to hang onto them. I enjoy them. But to go before the Lord in confession without the intention of rooting the sins from my life is not true repentance. It is detestable. I am not entirely sure how to muster sincerity.