In Christ Alone

Its been so long since I've written. I didn't even want to write because I have no idea where to begin. And then it hit me that this is his. This blog belongs to Christ. its not mine. If anyone is moved by anything I ever post, thats Jesus. Its jesus that moved them and who he is, not what I have to say about him. I wonder how many posts I've written wanting the reader to think I am a good writer, or smart, or be moved by what I have to say. Actually all of them, I'm quite sure. And yet he's been able to use this little expression...despite me. You are not what you do. Thats a lie that the world has been telling you your whole life. There is no comfort in the notion that we are alright and that there is nothing wrong. Maybe there is comfort in the daytime, maybe in our busy lives filled with people and interactions and accomplishments we can pretend, but at some point, on each of darkest nights and most barren moments, we know that we don't really want to worship ourselves and "I'll take care of myself" is a terrible lie and that we are fighting so hard to act like everything is alright and we are good and lovable and capable of loving. I went on a trip for spring break and I tried to depend on myself and there is no doubt that we did a lot of amazing things but depending on myself was destructive. It was evident in the darkness of my thoughts as the week continued, the jealousy I began to feel, the need for my worth to be affirmed by people I was serving, constantly finding things wrong with people and clinging to those things for dear life. I just need jesus. There is no way to get around that.

In psalm one it says were like trees by the water and the water is God. And sometimes I get this idea that I need to bring people to the water but I leave. I leave the water thinking, I dont have time to sit and drink, because I am needed to bring people  here. But as soon as i leave the water, I get really thirsty. Instead of going to the water, I turn to all these other sources but if its not water, I just get thirstier. And I could try to tell people about the water, but they probably wouldn't trust me because I look so dehydrated. And soon I want everyone else to be thirsty too because I am. And at the same  time, I'm demanding water from other thirsty people. But if I drink and drink and drink then I won't even have to tell anyone about the water because they will look at me and they will say where did you get that water, because I am so thirsty, but I can see that you are not dying. Rather, you are full of life. And I will love them, and I will not demand anything of them because I'm not thirsty. And we will go and drink together and it will beautiful and miraculous.

The more time I spend with Jesus the more aware of my brokenness I become. But somehow, I am left feeling more beloved than any other time of the day. I feel alive. And I can let go of my need to be important and useful and necessary and life becomes this

run as hard and as fast as you can to the cross and stay there as long as possible. 

I get to let go of my need to do something this summer the world approves of. I get to let go of wanting to be everyone's savior. I get to let go of the sense that the number of good things I do in a day dictate my value. I get to be broken and transparent and the greatest mystery is that Jesus is moving in my little life, with and without my knowledge or permission and doing far more than I could ask or imagine.

Our king has won the battle and we are not enslaved any longer and he is coming back and he will be with us forever and ever. Thats the gospel. Jesus, let me let go of everything else but the cross and the truth that you have come and you have won and the battle is over. Letting go of social justice and good causes and comfort and loved ones and myself. Let me love people hard enough and deep enough and wide enough that I will die everyday so that you can reveal the gospel to them and to be convinced that there really is life in just one thing and that is you.