Continuing from the last post:

And that’s what makes this hard. It is sin. Just more acceptable because it can be dressed up, hidden or paraded about as righteousness. I am a sinner, the same as the person who has such obvious hatred in their hearts that they openly show it for all the world to see. I am the same as that person. I only look better because I do those things that the Lord has taught. I obey the law, attend church, spend time with God, tithe. I do all those things that make me holy, but they are as filthy rags. Because in my heart, if I am honest, I think God owes me a decent life because of my righteousness. As it is written: There is no one righteous, not even one. Romans 3:10.

Dang it!

It’s not that I think I’m better than anyone else, on a conscious level. I don’t. I’m a sinner saved by grace. That’s what makes this sin so deceptive. I don’t know what I don’t know. I truly love God. I desire to follow after His ways and seek to do His will. But in my heart, I am a sinner. In the deep recesses of my soul, there lies the things that I have neglected, but I didn’t know I wasn’t paying attention. There lies those “acceptable” sins because no one knows about them. Not even me, until recently.

This isn’t to heap additional guilt on you who probably already carry more than you were intended to carry. This isn’t to make me feel better about myself by exposing your hidden sins. This is to say; “Yeah, me too”. I have sin that I didn’t know was there. I look way more righteous than I am. Not because I set out to deceive you. I am deceived myself.

I have looked inside my heart because of the circumstances of my life and have found pride, resentment and a sense of entitlement that I had no idea was there. Thank you, Faces of Christ retreat and Charles Martin, author of What If It’s True? I could have gone on living just the way I was, thank you very much. Letting people think that I am holy, as He is holy because He abides in me, and I in Him.

I have looked at the ugliness that lives in my heart. I have even told others about this discovery. The first time was truly painful, but I have found that it gets easier each time I feel the need to share.

I’m tired of me and the junk in my life that keeps me stuck. I want to be free from the pettiness, and the shame of sin that so easily finds a place to dwell. And I think God for His love and grace because He wants that for me too. I think He wants it for you as well.

He wants us free to be who He created us to be:

Vessels of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus walking the earth today.

Conduits for His gifts.

Forgiveness for our sins. Those blatant, in your face kind of sins, and the ones we need never share.

Especially the ones we need never share.

“What if we believed it was true? Every single word that Jesus ever spoke. Every word that is written and recorded in the Bible for our example, edification and encouragement. What if we believed that those words were written to withstand the test of time, and they are just as applicable to us who live today, as much as they were to those who lived in the times in which they were written?

What if we believed them that way?

I have just finished listening to What If It’s True? a book by Charles Martin, for the second time. I have actually read parts of it as well, especially the prayers he wrote and placed at the end of each chapter. During this time of reading (listening) to this book, I attended a Faces of Christ retreat. Not what I expected, but in a good way. Well, let me qualify that statement…in a good way if you really want to look at the junk that has been tucked away in your heart for many years, that you have conveniently forgotten about because, well, it’s ugly, and if the truth be told, not as justifiable as you would like it to be.

Don’t get me wrong…I haven’t committed murder, adultery or broken any of the Ten Commandments. Wait, that’s not true. I am sinner, a human in desperate need of the saving grace of Jesus Christ. Me, the keeper of the Ten Commandments…well, the “big” ones, anyway.

Here’s the thing though, that has kept me from the truth buried in my heart, I have tried to live my life in such a way that will bring glory and honor to my Father whom I love and desire to serve with every fiber of my being. I spend time with Him, yielding my life and heart to what He says in His word, as to how I am to live and conduct my life.

Therein lies the problem. Because I have done those things that He taught, I have developed (and buried deep within) an entitlement mentality. I didn’t intend to do that. I didn’t even know it was there but, if truth be told, I think God owes me a good life, a decent one at the very least. I didn’t even that was folded deep inside my inner being.

But it’s true and it’s ugly.

It’s not something I want you or anyone else to know about me. Heck, I just realized this about myself and was quite shocked, but it’s there, nonetheless.

Why am I telling you these things? Why would I want you to know such prideful painful parts of who I am? I don’t really. I would rather you think that I am a holy servant of the Most High God. And I am and will continue to pursue Him as long as there is life in me. But I figure that if I have encountered these ugly, painful truths about myself, then I’m probably not the only one. Perhaps you, well, not you exactly, but maybe the person sitting beside you who is reading this post too, has had an inkling that maybe they harbor similar (acceptable) sins as well.”

I wrote the above post a few weeks ago but wasn’t sure how I was going to use it. I decided here was the perfect place. It’s a little longer than my usual posts so I will post the remainder of the article tomorrow, so come back and see how I wrap it up! 😉

This article first appeared in The Southeast Outlook: Faith to do it anyway.

Sometimes I think I try to fit Jesus into my world instead of fitting into His. It’s sort of like me letting Him be a part of my everyday life. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but what if He wants me to be in His world instead? I think that’s where reading the gospels comes into play.

I was recently mediating on the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 in the book of Mark, chapter six. We’ve all heard the story many times before but this time I decided to imagine I was there watching. What would it have been like to have been an eyewitness, one among the crowd that day, listening to Jesus teach and watching Him perform this miracle?

As I imagined the scene, I couldn’t help but notice that the disciples were looking a little haggard. The day was growing long; the sun steadily moving across the sky toward the west. The disciples knew the people must be getting hungry. They had listened for hours as Jesus taught with authority. The disciples had watched Him walk among the crowd, touching their heads affectionately as He passed by. It had been quite a day, but the disciples felt like it was time to wrap it up.

The crowd seemed restless. Parents wanting to tend to their families, to make sure the children were properly fed before making the trek home. But the pull to stay was strong. They didn’t want to miss a word of what was being said by this man who spoke with such gentleness and love. So, they lingered just a little longer.

Finally, by silent consent, the disciples gathered around Jesus to tell Him of their concerns for the people. Jesus was moved. He smiled at the disciples and His eyes lit up while He listened. He liked what He was hearing. He liked that this chosen group of loyal friends had compassion on the people who had thronged to hear Him speak.

What happened next took the disciples by surprise. Jesus told them to feed this mass of people. They looked at each other bewildered. Feed 5,000 people? Did Jesus just say what they thought He said? Jesus wanted them to feed all these people with a mere five loaves of bread and two fishes?

It’s not that they thought Jesus couldn’t do this thing He proposed. After all, they had been around long enough to know that He could heal the sick and raise the dead. But feeding a hungry throng of people? They had expected Jesus to dismiss the crowd instead, telling them it was time to go home and tend to their families. They expected Jesus to bid them farewell and call it a day.
But He didn’t. So, these men who had chosen to leave their former lives and follow Jesus, began the task at hand, to feed the people in attendance. Because that’s what they had signed up for, to follow Him wherever He went and to do whatever He said. Jesus knew they surely had doubts and questions, but they did what He asked of them anyway.

How great a faith, to do it anyway.

Jesus knew all of these things. He understood that they had doubts. He knew they had questions. But I got the feeling that this was about more than just feeding the hungry mob of people. This was about the disciples and their faint in Him. Isn’t it always about more than just one thing? Jesus is a multi-tasker when it comes to loving us well.
I imagined Jesus’ heart filling with love for the disciples as He watched them act in simple obedience. He knew they needed to do the things that seemed outlandish to them. He knew it was in the doing that would cause their faith in Him to grow. He knew they needed to have doubts and questions but do it anyway.

Then, as I continued to imagine being there that day among the people, watching the disciples do what Jesus had instructed them to do, I felt Jesus inviting me to do the same. It was more than an invitation though. He was encouraging me to do what the disciples were doing, even in the midst of my doubts and questions, to trust Him. To go ahead and do it anyway.

He has met me many times just for being willing to do what He asked of me. Just for being willing. It wasn’t because I had such great faith in Him to show up in my life and make it all better. It was because I had doubts and questions but did what He asked me to do anyway.

He meets us where we are, in the messiness of life, with all our doubts and questions in His ability to make all things new.

But He does it anyway.

Around four years ago I wrote a post titled Don’t Tell Me I’m Strong. Just last week someone left a remark. It’s amazing the power of words, and the amplification by the Internet. Add the Jesus factor and the possibilities are endless.

This is how that post started: “Don’t tell me I’m strong”, I heard myself say as I sat and talked with a group of people. “I’m not sure why, but it really pisses me off”. This became a new topic of discussion as we delved a little deeper, because others were identifying and agreeing that they weren’t that thrilled with hearing those words either.

You can read the entire post by clicking here.

Here is the comment that was left last week: Thank you. My child was stillborn nine weeks ago and I’m so f’ing tired of people telling me that “I’m strong.” “You’re so strong” it makes me want to punch them in the face. I mean, it’s definitely better than them not saying anything, I appreciate that they’re trying to be encouraging… but it makes me really angry. I actually had to look and see if anyone else felt the same.

I was struck with the fact that this woman had those same feelings but had never heard anyone else express them, so she did what anyone living in the twenty-first century would do…she Googled it. And she found my post. There is such a comfort in knowing that someone “gets us”, understands exactly how we feel, even if this person is halfway across the country or even the world.

The power of “Yeah, me too” is so impactful. It brings connection. What greater purpose is there in telling your story?

I was also struck with another thing…no man is an island. There is nothing new under the sun. We all think we’re so different (not in a good way), that no one else has ever felt the way we’ve felt, or experienced the things we have. To some extent this is true. Every story is different. Every life is unique. Human nature, however, is pretty universal.

The feelings of connection and belonging are huge. Don’t be afraid to tell your story. You never know who’s life it might touch in a way that no one else, or any other story could.

We have commonalities. If you have had a thought or feeling that seems different, chances are someone else has thought and felt the same as you.

People want, maybe even need to hear; “Yeah, me too”.

Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable with a person who has earned the right to hear your story. Vulnerability can dispel loneliness and bring a feeling of belonging and worth.

Let them be where they are. Don’t try to change or fix.

Instead, listen with the heart of the Father.

And pray.